While you sleep
Lady dressed in white
And melt your cold heart made of ice
High into the sky
And fall as raindrops from God’s eyes
Where now you will grow
With me - in the bloom of a rose
Author: Elaine George
* Note: This poem is a Personification as well as a triple Fibonacci
Brian Strand's 'Image Contest': First Place
John Heck's '12-in-one' Contest: First Place
I am the spirit of satin stardust
and the antiquities of golden memories alive
I call to you from the rising warmth of the sun
and greet you in the misty morning light
I am the steady and rolling drum beat
echoing from the jagged heights above
I am the mysterious curves of the raging waters'
and the freedom birds of love
I rise above the white summer clouds
in lilting songs of grace
and roam with the western tail-winds
to take you home again
I am a Spirit of our gracious Lord God Almighty
of love hope and faith
I have come to tell
Dedicated To P.D.
I'm a ship alive with voice
Adrift on the oceans of time
Sailing through a storm of choice
On waves of verse that need no rhyme.
Never far from harbor or shore
Driven by passionate gales
I have only words for oars
And, only faith for sails.
My manifest is etched on scrolls
My cargo sealed by blood rites
I'm searching the seas for lost souls
Shipwrecked from storms in the night.
I bring relief to those in need
And precious hope to the dying
I search for starving souls to feed
Bringing life and joy undying.
I cure the sick and brokenhearted
While saving lives for King and crown
I'm the greatest ship ever recorded
I am the holy word of God,
Timothy I. Brumley
One moist patch, like dewy grass,
surrounded by a field of weeds,
emerges first and breathes at last,
through openings, the air it needs.
Cut off from, and cut off of;
counting on, and counting in;
from down below, to up above -
A smack on tender, crimson skin.
There is a pulse.
One spring bud, like seedling stems,
surrounded by a garden wall,
is standing out from all of them,
despite the fact, they're just as tall.
And though the bud has not yet grown,
the soil and the water see
more than just the seed they've sewn.
They see the flower it will be.
There is a pulse.
One tall stem, like climbing vines,
surrounded by its petals' plumes,
shares its elegant designs,
and stretches as it blooms.
And when the wind begins to call,
the flower spreads it's pollen 'round.
It falls in love, and loves in fall,
and falling love renews the ground.
There is a pulse.
Come out, I whisper, come out
peek softly from your veil of clouds,
grace the velveteen sky with your glow
Speak to me your tales of woe,
of lovesick souls in search of hearts,
lost in the labyrinth of desire...
then show me there is Hope
...Enchanted midnight moon
...of which the Moon whispers back...
Step out from the shadows, step out
bravely bask in my borrowed light,
fill the night air with your hope
Sweetly sing to me your wishes of love,
of ill-fated hearts to find their soulmates,
alive from the abyss of despair...
and I'll tell you all is not lost
...Courageous, faithful soul
** 2009. this was originally written separately, but decided to try out combining them in
Have you ever seen a catterfairy?
Many found her to be quite scary,
She came out of her cocoon others said to soon
And only part of her had seemed to bloom.
Her green body dragged on the cold wet ground
Yet her face was like an angel and her wings were profound.
She had passed many animals, insects and fish
Though she was rejected by them all...she still held on to one special wish.
That someday she would gracefully fly
Far past all their critical eyes.
Show the world who she was inside
Never again feel the need to isolate and hide.
One day a mouse with two pointy green tails
Scuttled by her sobbing with a horrendous wail.
The catterfairy filled with compassion asked him what was wrong
The mouse pointed to his two tails and said “I’m not special or strong”
No one paid him any mind too
For his difference made others constantly ridicule.
The catterfairy said, "My dream is to fly"
"I am different too and can’t understand why"
At that moment they became the best of friends,
Their uniqueness became a treasure that helped them make amends
With whom they really were
Instantly feelings of loneliness became a blur.
The mouse one day had a marvelous idea
It would help his dear friend overcome a deep fear.
If he held up the catterfairys body while she attempted to fly
It would make her light enough so she could soar through the sky
Then, they both would graciously shine
Linked together till the end of time.
At once the mouse lifted the beautiful catterfairy's body high,
Holding on intensely, she got her wish and they both kissed the cold ground goodbye.
The catterfairy has human emotions and shows us how hard it can be when your different in our society. people judge others so often by how they look or if they have a disability. we all need love and friends and we have too look deeper than the outside. Someone will always come and lift that person up who feels rejected or different. Thank God we are all different. how boring this earth would be if we were all the same. Never try to be like anyone else for there is only one YOU and you are needed.
By: Sabina Nicole
Indignant am I,
My Life on the Line.
Through self inflections of my
Dope sick addictions.
Raping my soul.
Unable to recover.
Failure as a mother.
Spinning out of control,
No place to go,
No one to hold.
As an abuser,
I have no hope for the future.
Needing a hand
But I have not a friend.
My hateful demise has pushed them aside.
Ashamed of my choices,
I'm riddled with guilt.
My children at risk,
Hurt and broken,
Loving me still.
Oh, what I'd give to be free from of all my Ill's
For the Love of God to find his way
Back to this dope sick mother
In desperation of his blessings
To be forgiving
For I am his child, and I need him to come into my life.
For I am not ready to die
Just to recover!
I chose not to live in a world of guilt,
I chose to know openly a world of chance.
A world of opportunity and values,
Where the world I know understands all,
Believes all and only fears what it can not accomplish.
My world accepts challenge with its inner strength fearing - never a thing.
My world is free to believe since now my mind is so truly open.
A truly open mind, one not to judge so quickly
One that accepts instead of expects
Eyes that see a story, instead of paint their fairytale picture
Eyes that would never re-arrange a story to cover a lie
Or make them self look like a hero in any way.
The peace I know may not be what you think
It is not a word to cover lies, but a way to discover truth
Peace is not a word of war, but a way of living
The peace I know is not a word; it is an understanding of ones true self.
The peace I know understands ones true self through non judgmental belief and strong inner being.
Peace may only be a word to some; maybe this is why they cannot see the true beauty that life offers them each day in a world with so much freedom.
As I clutch the hand of the little girl
who walks in my shadow..
I dare to dream
As I gather my self-will, prepare to hold my
ground against even the slightest hint of danger..
I dare to dream
As I distance myself to look for progress,
the distance soon becomes a measure of my emptiness..
I dare to dream
As I look in the mirror, I see her now with
widespread wings and know that real change
is about to take place...
I dare to dream
He remembers when his many bolts
weren't ringed in rust,
and his seams weren't blackened
with years of grime and dust.
The post upon which he sat
was gray and weathered now,
and had become just slightly
west of plumb somehow.
The screw that held his little flag
had long ago come loose,
chipped and faded, no longer red,
it was of little use.
The driveway that he guarded
was dirt and deeply sloped,
and halfway down it gently curved
around a massive oak.
Now some might think that he'd be bored,
stuck there night and day,
but he found entertainment
in the things that came his way.
He pondered long and hard on things
before making up his mind,
there was no hurry, he reasoned,
when all you have is time.
He carefully watched a nest of ants
both day and night for weeks,
before he reached the conclusion
that ants must never sleep.
He marveled at the seasons
and loved both sun and snow,
but sometimes he felt beaten down
when the wind-whipped rain would blow.
He loved the feel of bird feet
when they used him as a perch,
and when a truck would rumble by
he'd feel his spirit lurch.
He delighted in the field mice,
and wept with the mourning doves,
was suspicious of the furry raccoons,
with their masks and leather gloves.
Though days and months and years went by,
and he was oft ignored,
his life of perfect stillness
was itself a rich reward.
So as we hurtle past him,
with our tires spitting rocks,
perhaps we could learn something
from our stoic old mailbox.