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,
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
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
"come fluttering words, come drifting words to me . . . "
Dear Mother, for a while now you’ve been gone.
Has time for you seemed long beyond the veil?
For those you left, time painfully goes on.
Oh, Mother, can you hear me where you dwell?
I wish to hear your voice again. How sweet
The sound of it each day when we awoke.
Its dulcet tone each afternoon would greet
us after school. How kind the words you spoke!
Your words would flutter like wings of a dove
When each of us received your goodnight kiss,
And gazing at our dad, your one true love,
Your words, unsaid, shone in those eyes I miss.
Your flowers’ scent I breathe in tenderly
while praying that your words drift down to me.