I found a single feather on the ground.
I did wonder if it would make a sound.
So I tickled in across my daughters nose,
and what do you know a fun sound had arose.
The laughter brought from this brown little feather,
was better than all the toys I would get her.
Now when we walk we look down at the ground,
To see what other treasures can be found.
She had found a unique palm sized heart shaped stone.
A toad we had followed but left it alone.
The wildflowers in the woods we examined each
Oh it gives me chance to witness beauty and teach.
An adventure everyday we discover
What it means to be a nature lover.
For Contest: encore
a positive poem
(I apologize for the
format the website
is having problems,
hopefully it will be
Poised, she waits by
pajamas by the door.
Still as a statue,
Waiting for Mama is
this toddlers trial.
fog I shake from my
Waking to silence
instead of her
Angelic voice asks
for chocolate milk.
Such a treat in the
morning, smooth like
Attentive, she holds
the glass as I pour.
Half-way full, she
politely asks for
Diligent steps to
the kitchen table,
Holding on as best
as she was able.
abrupt, no warning.
Milk on the
For Contest: Three
A child's beauty contest I watched in such awe;
young girl in a wheelchair to her father, his all.
Escorting her on stage with such grace and pride;
each so blessed to be at the others' side.
A fragile princess in a purple pageant dress;
twirling her first in her chair then lifting her to his chest.
Their dance so inspiring; such an enchanting sight;
so gently he lifted her high up to the sky.
Sparkling, bright eyes and the most beautiful smile;
none deserving of a crown more than this precious child.
An imperfect body, viewed as a gift from above;
her beauty matched only by a father's boundless love.
Beauty in my eyes is not found in perfection;
but in acceptance, uniqueness, love and dedication.
June 29, 2014
Contest: Encore-anonymous positive new sonnet
Sponsor: Elly Wouterse
The black water reflects the still morning
While monarchs flutter in the rising sun
Purple skies grow lighter without warning
Seperate rain, as rainbow colors run
Could I have seen a more beautiful sky?
Silently approaching your silhouette
My eyes well slowly in their joyous sigh
You sit alone, playing your clarinet
There's no vision or reflecting water
That warms my heart as this picture of you
A quivering heart for you, my granddaughter
As you practice in tune with a sky so blue
I am a witness to your gentleness
I feel the music your soul can express
I’d write a rhyme to prove my depth of love
Or sing angelic song like those above
If gifts like these would prove love’s testament
I’d give and give to prove deep sentiment
But what to you, my Father, can I give?
The one who taught me how to love and live
What can I give you from this daughter’s heart?
But vow that from your side I’ll never part
You mean the world to me, this you must know
With passing years my love for you does grow
Your care for me is what helps see me through
There is no other father sweet like you
May Jesus grant you health and happiness
This birthday wish I wrap in tenderness
Eileen Manassian Ghali
My daddy dearest turns 78 today...78! Where did all the years go??? My father is a pastor, an educator, and writer, but most of all, he is the best father in all the world. Yes, my My father has always been a very central figure in my life. I couldn't have hoped for a better dad. We've been close through the years, and I know that he is always there to catch me when I fall. Isn't that, after all, what our heavenly Father is like? I so love and adore my dad. If you'd like to "see" him, you can check my photos on my page here. :)
Many nights you’ve graced my sight
fair Orion, hunter and groom to the abyss,
and yet it would seem an eternity
before we would meet and kiss.
Bought you’d be, and brought to me
by the grace of He who waits.
So, when I die my heart can rise
upon your valor’s brace.
He’d rename Hatsya’s famed
so my soul could light the way.
Dearbhla true poetess of love
‘pon Orion’s sword held sway.
And up I’d rise at my demise
to crest the sky and space.
When you miss a child,
Of your very own,
That is your flesh and blood,
You begin to wonder,
Where did you go wrong,
In your own life,
Instead of looking,
At the beautiful life,
This you must remember,
So many of the difficult times,
Cause of the times you did share together,
For your children will remember more,
Than you really want to give them credit for,
And they will always remember you,
As their loving parent,
For loving them so much,
More than you will ever know,
And you will never forget them,
Just as you hope,
You will never be forgotten,
From their lives,
On this September’s mild evening
I watch blue stars flicker, to glow
Around your hair like angel wings
How fair the dance ‘neath our window.
That in hushed tones, I speak your name
Enshrined in warmth of timeless grace
My hands fold yours with love aflame,
While eyes rest deep from my embrace.
Although weak heart quivers in ticks
With faith, a miracle is done;
Your birthday nears at forty six
As prayers trail for more reruns.
For health anew, may God restore
The gift of life from heaven’s door.
In loving memory of my deceased mother
who suffered heart problems at age 46 ,
and survived a few. She celebrates
her birthday this September 17.
Elly Waterouse’s Maybe The Last Letter
by nette onclaud
Which love is not a struggle to the mind?
'tis easier to think love glides along,
regardless of a road not there to find,
or never caring what is right or wrong.
One love, of child, a father's steady hand,
protecting innocence, through many years
as if he knew the way, and had it planned,
to heal each mortal wound as it appears.
As if all things begin with his okay,
the good, the joy of life to build upon;
demanding right, and hoping in some way
he's always with you, even when he's gone.
The banged up knee, your losing of a friend,
are yours to feel, but his to comprehend.
© RON WILSON AKA VEE BDOSA
What beauty shared with carefree steps,
your laughing heart would trip with grace
and lift our spirits as you slept,
a soul that's swept to our embrace.
Unfurrowed brow with silken cheeks
that blush with youthful innocence,
now safe within a world we'll seek
when all our days on earth are spent.
So wait Dear Heart, we will be there,
older and with tell-tale traces
from smiles of stories that we shared
reminded of your lovely face.
In time, my darling, we will come
to find you still forever young.
In honor of my friend's young daughter who was murdered last week.
I looked into her past, her distant past
A time when memories were to be cast
Her innocent feet twisted in the air
When she tried to show off to those who care
Dancing was her life and ballet was king
She jumped into the air and sure could sing
Songs of dance were her divine specialty
She could move with the best of them surely
I have reflections of you my sweet one
Back in the day when ballet was real fun
I showered you with affection back then
As I do now, steady with a great grin
Dance is what she learned early in her days
One she mastered and shined like those sun rays
Contest: "Reflections Of You"
Sponsor: Gail Angel Doyle
Your birth was coupled with a burst of light
You came to make my life joyous and bright
Your smile and eyes did capture swift my heart
Of mother's life you are the sweetest part
I saw perfection in your dainty hand
With just a smile my heart you did command
You snuggled in my arms of love, secure
Oh darling, of this truth you must be sure
Without you here, my sun would cease to shine
You are of a gift of God most precious, fine
Long life and health I wish my darling fair
Whose crowning glory is her raven hair
A lady in your right you’ve come to be
But in your eyes my little girl I see
For Regina Riddle's Intimate Relationship Contest
Revised September 2, 2014
The shadow on the crystal lake water
Comes from a young girl very sweet and pure
She’s a charmer, people want to see her
For her skin’s so smooth, and her smile’s a lure
Eyes that sure resemble puppy dog’s eyes
Her soft hand makes ripples where water lies
Tenderly she brings water to her face
No part of her body is out of place
Droplets drip down her face and to her heart
Allowing those around to see beauty
Her presence is very cute to impart
No one can deny her inner psyche
Sadly she will never stay at this age
I’ll always love my girl, at any stage
Entered into Dana'lynn Smith's "In The Meadow" contest
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"
I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!
I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!
He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!
"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
and then I vowed to get us in the game!
I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!
"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!
Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
while I choked up--and readied for a hit!
All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"
The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!
I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!
The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!
The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!
The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!
The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"
Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
and on his heels--I made my promise good!
We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!
The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!
I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me!
Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
They’ve traveled from one house to another.
Some may say they’re strong enough to go on
Without a woman to call their mother.
Attachment is pointless, soon to be gone.
Another house that will never be home.
Little children crying themselves to sleep,
wondering where they will be next to roam.
All they can do is to hope and to weep.
Will they love me enough now, I wonder.
Shall I go away or shall I stay here?
At night, I can still hear the loud thunder
of his footsteps drawing so very near.
Though I may never find my one true home,
For love, I’ve found- I’m no longer alone.
DEMETER AT THE CHINESE OPERA
So, I invited you to the Chinese Opera impulsively
Thinking of masks and dragons and triumphant mystery
I though it was time we threw off our coats
Of mourning, you for your daughter
Stopping one night, on the way home from a party,
So randomly, cruelly, killed by the monster
Who has slain more than all the century’s wars
And my private sorrow for which there is no funeral.
I remember your straying husband also
Loved the Chinese Opera. What will happen
If we all meet between the acts?
Surely forgiveness will come like snow on the mountain
And we will live in a harmony that can never be suppressed
In a slow majestic music that takes account of grief.
(C) Rosemarie Rowley
From IN MEMORY OF HER (2008)
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou can buy drinks at McD’s for a buck,
Wait, that means thou never want to pay,
Thou went to see a psychic for good luck.
Sometime too hot thou think thou are at clubs,
The ways you act embarrass all thy friends ;
And when we need to drag thou out of pubs,
We hope thy hot behaviour will soon end.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Especially in winter when thou wear;
Shorts too short with legs far too displayed,
“Oh my god, I can see her underwear,”
Thy “summer’s” kind of ratchet after all
Thy friends will wait until you turn to fall.
I remember the days of emptiness
no one seemed to be anywhere around
Love and warmth became lesser than less
the killing silence the only ear deafening sound
I'm Cathryn(*) and you're Elly I presume
"feel and be your own you and it's totally okay with me"
my dearest second mom entered the room
she sat simply and silently right in front of me
I felt no longer like a worthless black swan
her tender love and care made me feel fine
suddenly there was that shoulder to cry on
and my mother who recognized me and what was mine
she shared her inner beauty now mirrored in me
she gave birth to the little girl I always wanted to be
Written for "Sonnet on a Intimate Relationship - Poetry Contest"
(c) Elly Wouterse
(*) in Dutch spelled "Cathrien'..
Do you like to stand there and watch me burn?
Do you enjoy listening to me cry?
When you hit me I feel as though I'll die,
Who knew that maternal love really hurt?
The freedom that I know I'll someday earn
Makes me swallow pride, tell her its not a lie,
That really it doesn't hurt and that I
Will never leave her. I know she will learn.
When I leave her standing out in the rain.
Walking away from the terrible place
I no longer stand for all the abuse.
Just stare out that sheet of glass - window pain,
Guilt ridden tears streaming down her pale face.
I am not to return, I will refuse.
Who doubts the tender love of a Parent
(whose love is here and present to the end
for showing and for giving to attend
to ev'ry son's and daughter's contentment)?
Parents love when one's loved by no other;
it is a truth of nature to commend,
a law that one cannot break or transcend:
a tenet of life unlike another.
Out of tender love, Parents pray away
the evils in their children's paths all day long
that they walk in the straight and narrow way,
and then grow wise and may know right from wrong.
A Parent's love's by far a greater love,
a child's right that no one can remove.
My blood undenied;
Though a red lip;
Yet a significant figure;
We are oceans apart;
Waiting to confluence;
This caused by sources religious
Which I hear will later confluence;
No response lie in wait;
When all the wishes of the sources;
Arrive at their door step when they
least expect it;
This you tell me in silence;
that the blood undenied will find it's
I trust you;
The blood of my blood that must
....My blood undenied
oh mum, don't kill me if you can't afford dowry.
oh mum,don't kill me if you want a boy to birth,
oh mum, throw me alive to live on this earth,
oh mum, don't dig a hole to hide me as indian myth;
oh mum, just educate me then never feel sorry.
i shall serve you as a servant don't feel pain my living,
please ask my brother if he can protect me if dare having.
I can walk on thorns to keep you happy don't cage my
why is Indian culture don't believe that I am also human?
why is security matter for me as a man is nudity fan?
don't afraid from gangs they are coward can't face a girl,
they can't love to daughter and sisters, looking beauty
they kill girls, demanding dowry, live in a cultural
when women 'll be free in india that's facing degrading
She quietly slipped into his room
There he lay very proud and arrogant
Who had held a gun to her child's head_ "boom",
He would say_Satan his assistant
He would tell her child that he would kill her
And he would kill her beloved family
She could not know that this would not occur
The child lived for eighteen years anxiously
How can one forgive heinous offense
Committed against a child that is loved
Only through God forgiveness for events
God forgave without Him she would be unloved
She asked him if he needed anything
Promised to visit while inside screaming
Our ex-son-in-law is in a nursing home now in the last stages of Huntington's Disease
We think that he was abusive because of the illness but don't know for sure..
Our daughter divorced him and remarried to a man who is treating her good...
Daddy lied to his sweet little girl,
wiping a tear and a golden curl.
"You won't die" he lied, in anguished pain,
Kissing her face again and again.
"Don't Cry Daddy, it will be okay"
She said. "Just hold my hand and pray"
Daddy saw the doctor shake his head "No".
Then, he knew it was her time to go.
She loved him with a weak final smile,
"Lay in bed with me a little while."
He climbed in bed and held her tight,
praying hard to save her precious life.
Soon she fell into lasting sleep,
leaving behind the world to weep.
A normal old sonnet, for the beautiful lies contest.
(A Shadow Sonnet)
Earth mother, now return to Mother Earth
for time has taken what you were born for.
Listen for its call, oh dear one, listen,
and answer, before it pulls both thee and
me. As rain washes earth's green over me,
I remember your thumb, stained green as I.
Sun brightened the hue, rain chased the sun.
hands tilled the soil, but dirt clung on hands
to flake from green fingertips, and thus to
spread the seed; bring back life to deathlike spread,
"green up" our world as your spade cast forth green,
too singled in purpose to compass two
who work together— as partners will— who
eye the same plot of land with reaper's eye.
Super Sonic Sonnet
Complete are my lover’s thoughts in dark brier
With airs of aristocracy’s sweet critique
Her mind takes flight, a supersonic liar
Smiles warmth wears deceit like a prize unique
What grows outside your lovely courtyard facade?
Quadrangular, fortified thick gray walls
Hubris, incongruous, flourishing macabre
Infamous fragile beauty flaws, that’s all
Speeding to the grave, your love is there, dead
Daughters take the splendor, learn mother’s ways
Build other fortresses, stronger, to life’s dread
Days go by, to ponder the doomed accolades
Destinations for lovers and daughters pass
Become the past without wealth that never lasts
Is my life not tortured enough for you to see?
I am broken as can be.
My heart is torn.
My tears stain these perfect floors.
Why are singing with glee?
Why do you not care about my every plea?
I am trapped in your arms.
I am the hopeless moth.
How did you pick me?
What is it that you see?
A girl untouched by life?
A flower blooming in the desert?
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.
My time is never enough but love comes,
with pig tails, big blue eyes and two green thumbs.
After church in her Sunday best she wears
an ear to ear smile to show she cares.
She is all I have left of her mother,
who I loved intensely, like no other.
This girl is not blood but she calls me Dad.
Moments spent are the best we ever had.
Grandmother protects her from the nightmares,
and I hold her hand when secrets she shares.
I smile sometimes when I want to cry.
I hate to tell this little girl goodbye.
Home is where the heart is, and she is here.
Her presence makes my sadness disappear.
For contest love or hate
date March 08, 2015
My sugar foot, is time to go to sleep.
The toys are safely stored, and you can keep
your favorite one or two inside your bed
against your bod beneath the sheets instead
of nightmares. May you have fantastic dreams
of joy and depth (such unfamiliar things
to others less encumbered) with your real
lee feeling just exactly how you feel.
A tickle for your back, a poem or two.
You like the one 'bout lady and her shoe?
A little bit of gigglin', not too much
to make ya need to pee. And then I touch
you with a kiss. My darling missy, may
your dreams enlighten your wake hours each day.
*Where my babies were sung to, we pronounce the word "favorite" as fave writ.
This sonnet is in honor of my daughter, Mary, whose life has been a poem from day one. She taught me to love by loving.
I have spent many hours reflecting on my dad's last earthly days.
How he stared silently at the room's far corner, in another place.
At times, many visitors filled his crowded hospital room.
But my father's eyes were transfixed, his face peacefully consumed.
Though he could not speak, I questioned his mesmerizing vision.
As I held his hand I knew the answer, God had made His decision.
Angels had come for my dad as he quietly faded in that bed.
His time of peace had come, but it was the moment I had dread.
I wanted Dad to stay with me just one more minute, hour, day.
But summer, his favorite season, had come, the time for me to find a way
to let him go, Jesus was calling; so I kissed him goodbye through tears.
As he took his final breath, a peaceful calm washed over my fears.
I stared off into the distance, imagining beautiful angel wings of love,
embracing my dad, then flying him to the eternal summer of Heaven above.
* This is all true. I held my dad's hand and sang to him as he took his last
breath. It may have been angels or my dear grandma coming to take him home.
I only know that I felt comforted by my dad's peace.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, March 19, 2012
First place in Touched by an Angel contest (Gail Doyle)
Eighth place in Emotional Poem Contest (PD)