2day once more was fun day, because the sun was there:
Of course! Like all the sundays, as usually they were...
if only you were there 4 me, and not 4 all together!
The sun has gone, and in the mood, it's moon day that begins
and all around the ticking sounds that I hear all around me,
there's suddenly my Blackberry: a ringtone's sent to me.
As yesterday was 'gain your birthday, told the ringtone sent to me,
As usual, I'm sending you 4 tunes to comfort me;
because I know that once again, as for many a birthday
you surely still are thinking of the things that run the same way:
There is The Sun, there is The Belle and Moon day !s their frenemy's day;
and I am used to sail away for it's too hard to see
that your stubborness clings to him and it won't let us be...
Goodbye, my love; I hope next year you'll come4tunes to comfort me.
The Sussex lad, to title and land born,
An alumni, now he stands proudly tall.
In Oxford students pass at future’s dawn,
For some the inspiration was his call.
Provocative, a mighty pen his sword,
Expelled for godless view from hallowed hall.
The Baronet poet, friend to a Lord,
The Gothic king’s voice did incite them all.
His Mary worshipped at her husband‘s feet,
She held his heart tight from death’s final flame.
Did they engage in black acts, pagan mete?
A dark and often troubled soul laid claim.
Into the storm set sail to the end foretold,
He died before his talent could unfold.
He stood bravely before me
with a medal of honor in his right hand
and a bandage of agony around his left knee
It seemed like he had struggled to stand,
his crutches lay useless on the ground
I found it hard to understand why,
a soldier in pain didn't even frown
With a voice firm but dry
his words shook me like thunder
"You're now the man of this house"
he uttered like a worn-out hunter
quivering up my legs like a terrified mouse
Drowning my mind through cold ears
he passed his sincere respect and sunken tears
Count thy Blessings
Count thy blessings, name them one by one
Compose thyself as pythons do on their preys
Ignite thy spirit to the rising sun
Rejoice with thy hands for points of thy being.
Compose thy songs with a theme of pure praise
Shout a Holy name thee deemed worthwhile
Wine and dine in the hollow of thy soul-
A resourceful asset for impulses,
For pints of freedom worth warm worthy toast
And radiant of clustered wings like birds.
If by chance thee spot ways to noble course
Count it to thy pride by abstracting lines.
Behold how cute to have survived the game
Count thy blessings aloud one by one.
(A Tale of Fifty years)
It was a dreary cold teenage wedding
all the old folk gave us absolute hell,
organ player plays “Where are you heading?”
Only the bloody dog wished us well.
Knaresborough, a freezing December night
gave us a hellish chilly reception,
the caravan gas stove refused to light
gone the illusion of rampant conception.
Fifty years on, a love of heart and soul
here in our terrace home in “Kitty Fold”
Played our part in life’s perpetual scroll
now yearn to the young our story told.
All around us an institution fails
this dreary teenage wedding onwards sails!
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Remember the day when conversation strikes
Between the two of us for the very first time
Back then, I had no inkling of your likes
The way you know not of my love for lime
Remember the day when you first called me
I picked up the phone at the very first ring
We chatted freely from the trees to the sea
And together this ballad we start to sing
Remember the day when I'm asked to be your girl
I was blushing and grinning from ear to ear
Till now, you are still as precious as the pearl
Just like the first day we dated last year
Remember this special day of the many few
When I tell you just how much I Love You!
We boomers, as our generation’s called,
have lived through two seasons, considered great,
during which our values were overhauled --
The Summer of Love and Autumn of Hate.
Both brought us together and gave us hope.
In the face of injustice, both were staged --
the first, a celebration with free dope,
the other a tragedy that enraged.
We were innocent in ‘Sixty-Seven;
we saw world violence and were appalled.
Our attitudes changed by Nine-Eleven;
we sought revenge, though we were shocked and galled.
While Winter of War passes, may we find
The Spring of Renewal and peace of mind.
Delicious scents of cocoa tease the nose
While baking a cake for candles to crown
A tender greeting for a birthday treat
As brightly wrapped parcels gently repose
All chosen with care so my love is shown
Today it is her I shall celebrate.
My passion baked into morsels, sweet
My love declared with a scented, red rose
And breakfast in bed needs no dressing gown.
It is her love that made my life complete
From that first tender kiss on our first date
I’ve welcomed the warmth she placed in my heart;
Now love’s wants and needs can anticipate
As from her side I can never depart.
A SONNET-My God for me
My God for me-
set me free
to bring me peace
My God for me-
eyes to see
or hope-less lives
My God for me-
none can destroy
My God for me...
Hung on a tree
inspires by phrase from C Rossetti's poem-Long Barren
Speedily sprouted, sheltering shrubs
Yes from sun-like Sirs
Planning to fertilize our farms
And mechanizing micro melons
‘966 found them chopped
Them the Irokos
Ironically from well meant members
Yet again, they too felled
In their quest to unite and grow
Our hearts aches, bleeding and saturated
Yet our mouth guffaw
For our mother had lads
Sons that could lay inert
That others may sprout
Across starboard bow the cliffs drew nearer,
Into harm's way mighty battalions drove...
Men and mule upon cold waves of terror
Stormed the beachhead landings on Anzac Cove!
Army Corps great red and white standard stars
In battle hymn out of Commonwealth port:
Where the flame of liberty fiercely chars
In every heart whose sons fell and fought!
Raise the flag and let us honour the few
That March at dawn - the glory and the ghost
Of those brave Diggers in foreign graves who
In duty stood their ground and stood their post.
Old soldiers all they will forever stay
When the bugles fall silent on Anzac Day.
Dedicated to the veterans of the Australian
And New Zealand Army Corps. Lest we Forget!
Today we've been married eleven years. We've smiled lots of smiles and we've cried lots of tears. We've had good times and bad times. We've had our ups and our downs. You've always been there to help turn them around. When ever I'm down and don't want to get up you come along and stand firm and strong. You stand by me no matter what. You're even there when my temper gets hot. You calm me down and get my feet back on the ground. Yes we've had problems but we handled them well. Now I'd stand by you at the gates of hell. I'd fight off the devil himself to be by your side, because through this life together we will ride.
Listen, my heart brings you greetings:
Offers clear rhymes simple and plain;
Voice that now starts lovely feelings;
Each thought takes time to fling fond gain;
Let my soul sing with words that come;
Yes I can share fond style and poise.
Glimpse how love flings a lovely sum;
Rejoice joy's fare with cheery voice;
Express a touch that feels so light;
Explore a tense of here and now;
Take time to nudge beauty most right;
Intuit good sense in Why and How;
Nurture fond feel that springs good cheer:
Gifts of goodwill that lives right here.
08 July 2014
FOR THE NEW TORCH BEARERS
(APROPOS MLK: 2)
I have voyaged over many tempestuous oceans and seas;
I have been pursued in woods by vicious dogs,
Salivating stale slave smells left in hanging trees;
Been hunted, trapped and penned like sliming wild hogs.
I’ve waded rivers buoyed by the bodies of ancestors;
My blood has caked on their banks in the golden dawn;
Yet I’m still here; solid like a rock, standing in the mist
Of our debtors;
For I am the flaming spirit from the black phoenix’s spawn
I am that everlasting arm of which the ancestors leaned
I am that of which the ancestors long ago spoke;
I am what sustained them during their bloody rebuke
And lashing scorn;
I am the anchor that strengthen them with an audacious
And undying hope.
So come chosen children; everybody gather here
Let us sit together talking and praying for a while.
Like Papa, let us keep our eyes on the prize; gaze
Not down on the ground.
Raise high your heads: strutting down the blood stained
Listen children, the battle is not yet won; there’s still work
left to be done.
Girdle yourselves with an ebony pilgrim’s pride; girt
The rising sun of new days begun.
Rise up little children and give rebirth to the words
The ancestors said;
Rise up little children and cover yourself with the blood
They have shed.
Rise up little children and rip apart the new veiled shackles
And invisible yoke;
Rise up little children, raising your bright new torches
Higher than everlasting hope:
You are the new torch bearers of the dream;
You are the new Martin Luther King.
Nigeria is this you the golden eagle
Feeding on dried vegetation with wings in black
Once like Isaac in sight of Abraham
A rose in the hands of jezebel thou are
Could that be you so lean as if HIV positive
Infected by unfaithful partners of yours
That prefer thy quality to that of leprosy hands
Oh! What a paradoxical life
Can you ever grow Inspite of all this
Like the great Iroko tree in my village
But if the red cap, the talking drum
And the great amara eaters will come toge’er with one voice
And say like the biblical Jesus, “stand and walk”
I know that thy bone shall rise again.
This year that day wasn't seen,
And we missed it's feel,
'Twas if it had been,
And we know it's real.
I went about the park,
And a glimpse I saw,
It really wasn't missing,
It could be seen from near and far.
Endless memories wandering there,
Alone, yet all about,
The day was clear and wondrous fair,
We're alive our hearts did shout.
That day I did see found,
I looked about and turned around.