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Sonnet Family Poems | Sonnet Poems About Family

These Sonnet Family poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Family. These are the best examples of Sonnet Family poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Yesterday's Joys

The Old Refrain

Where have they gone, the simple days of old?
Though filled with toil, their melody was sweet—
A blending of the common joys that hold
That special place in memory's retreat:
Warm home fires burning, families gathered close,
The day chores done, the evening shared with zest,
That tranquil peace that hovered to disclose
Life's humble ways and means were surely best.

But now the complex song of modern man
So filled with discord drowning out the good
Of basic joys inherent in life's plan,
Makes happiness a gift misunderstood.

And why must progress hush the old refrain
To play this frantic tune we so disdain?

© Sandra M. Haight 2014 
   All Rights Reserved

~4th Place~
Contest: Pick a Title: Yesterday’s Joys
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst


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Strength

The trip to church on Sunday wasn't long
Down dry dusty country roads closer roamed
Hearts did rejoice when singing love's sweet song
Precious memories now deeply intoned

A home filled to the brim with kith and kin
No evidence of the grief she suffered
When in her youth tales of such loss did spin
By age of twenty-five her life crumbled

Joys of a young bride with husband beside
Darling daughters three in tow~gone~from life
Oh, life issues such hard brazen blows inside
No longer was she a mother and wife

Her faith in a loving God never failed
She had strength of character which prevailed  

I have been doing some research about my biological family
I found that my father's mother was married in her youth
and had three daughters which all died as did her husband..
She married my grandfather and then had four sons which
all lived..She never gave up her faith through it all..What strength.


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Thanksgiving from Three Perspectives

A Child's Thanksgiving Prayer 

Lord, I thank thee as I sit to eat,
For mashed potatoes that I helped to make.
And thanks, dear Lord, we're having something sweet.
Besides the beets and peas, there's pies and cake!

I thank thee for the sweet potatoes too
‘Cause Mom put tiny marshmallows on top.
They melted into white and taste goo;
Bless Mom, this  time her cooking didn't flop!

And thanks, dear Lord, my cousins came today.
I only get to see them once a year.
It snowed, and so we're going out to play.
Only my aunt Ruthie isn't here.

I'm glad she caught a cold. Forgive me, Lord.
It's just she talks so much we kids get bored.


A Dad's Thanksgiving Prayer 

Thanks, Lord, for this day of our Thanksgiving.
I've got a nice long weekend thanks to thee,
Starting with what I call really living-
Football on TV for me to see.

I'm thankful for this turkey on the table,
And for my wife, who bought it at the store
Even though she had to read the label
On how to cook the thing and even more . . .

Because this was her first time hosting dinner,
There was a lot my poor wife had to learn.
But the pumpkin pie turned out to be a winner,
And the gravy(which I love), she didn't burn!

And praise to thee, my kid is not as bad
As those that my wife's sister Annie had.


A Mom's Thanksgiving Prayer 

I thank thee, Lord, for this Thanksgiving Day,
For helping hands to clear away this mess;
For snow to tempt the kids outside to play;
For all my family and the meal's success.

I haven't seen my sisters in a while.
Though Ruthie's gone, I'm glad we all can chat.
The men are in the den.  Each wears a smile.
They're chugging Buds and happy getting fat.

I'm thankful too that Mom and Dad are here.
They're taking all the kids to see a show
Tomorrow while the men are drinking beer.
I hope nobody gets into a row!

Bless Mom and Dad.  The kids will have them hopping
(Especially Annie's kids) while we're out shopping!

For PD's "Gobble, Gobble, Gobble.. any food, thanksgiving
 or turkey poem CONTEST.. Poetry Contest"


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Morning Dew Glistens in Anticipation

Morning Dew Glistens in Anticipation

Glistening of gentle morning dew
soft breeze flowing sweetly along
Thoughts again of life and you
melodies that play a mental song

Trees wrapping this beautiful morn
joyful thoughts now so newly born
Sky filters down its sunlit rays
birds chirp all about on such days

My joy lost has now been found
as the natural world spins  around
Life takes on a sheen of the new
Again my happy thoughts turn to you

Our lives joined, paths forever hold
this deep love that makes us both so bold! 

Robert J. Lindley  09-24-2014

note: Took a Nature hike today. Saw God's beauty all around. 
Very soon I found myself thinking ,yes, that my life came around 
when my wife married me. As if a Spring shower had soothed the 
parched ground. Giving nourishment for the seeds of bliss
to sprout on up and grow.
God, Nature's glow, my wife's love and beauty , our son's 
smiles today made this world turn from bleak and cold to
sunshine and a slice Of heaven. Thank God for Nature's 
beauty and its sweet inspirations.
My brother-in-law David was sent home to die tonight. They can do no more , the cancer will end his life, most likely in the next few days...
I couldn't go there tonight. The helpless feeling slays me so!
I hope to have the courage to go tomorrow morn...


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School

Why does a child have to go to school?
Why do we have to spend so much time working?
This seems simply cruel.
Isn't it just irking?

Some people say school is important for learning
Couldn't a child learn on their own?
It would cause much less yearning,
After all, we can learn from our phones.

I can somewhat see a parents point in sending their child to school.
But why would you choose what we wear?
It just allows us to look like fools,
We may as well come to school bear.

As you can see school is not fair,
So please don’t force us to go if you care.


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Mother's Love

Mother’s Love (Sonnet)

Love begins at the time of conception
When a mother’s dear child grows in her womb.
Her life is changed to thoughts of protection.
Excitement and wonder of gender bloom.

This new little life will bring heightened joy.
A new baby is what dreams are made of.
It matters not if it’s a girl or boy,
Birth will bring happiness and so much love.

Teaching a sweet child as he or she grows
Is a most important tool used each day.
To teach how compassion and kindness flows,
As they emulate and do things our way.

A mother’s love, with every endeavor,
Is a gift to her children forever.

© 2014 Connie Marcum Wong

Happy Mother’s Day to every Mother and Step-Mother and Grand Mother and 
G. Grand Mother. Happy Belated Mother's Day to those of you in countries 
where you have already celebrated Mother's Day.


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Sonnet 18 Parody

Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art much more shrivelled and much more cold
Rough winds shake the withered leaves of today.
And your stomach hath too many a fold.

Sometimes too hot your sister shines,
And often is your grey complexion dimmed;
And you always smell like my uncle’s swine 
Except your upper lip is less well trimmed.

Thy eternal summer did long since fade
And lost possession of that fair thou ow'st;
And Satan brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives death to eyes.


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I Envy the Weekend

Friday night the weekend begins for most
Mothers, Fathers, with family members host
To be together with those they LOVE most
While a lonely man speaks with his Wife's ghost

On my computer the POETRY site
Saturday mornings some comments I write
My former students all work through the night
An old man see's his Wife's Heavenly Light

After Church, there is my A A meeting
Forlorn lonesomeness,now takes a beating
I get home; Featured POETS; I'm greeting
Images of my lovely Wife : Fleeting

Monday, a new week, new POEMS I shall start
I pick up my quill and write from my Heart

Author's note: Dear Andrea, all lines have 10 syllables(Thanks for the Spelling)
I still have to work on the format - aabb- This looks like aaaa but it's not ; a -  just happens to rhyme with - b -


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Windows of His Soul

His light eyes sadly stare; I know him not
although he has my intellect and wit. 
A lifetime now of answers I have sought,
his puzzling pieces in some box to fit.

Square pegs can’t be confined; nor can I find
that missing part to let me understand
what I might do to ease his burdened mind;
to know why he could not take hold my hand. . .

The infant boy I cradled at my chest
desired not my sustenance but grew. 
A melancholy soul, and yet he’s blessed
with oh, so much - and eyes grey-green tinged blue.

To heal the soul behind eyes so like mine . . .
Alas!  Their tint I barely can define.


For the Relationship themed Poetry Contest of little know nothing


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Eight Sons

(These would include the younger brothers of Wounded Thunder, the character I made up in my previously posted poem). These were sons of Thunder Storm and “Flower,” from Wounded Thunder down to Thunder Bolt. “Bolt” was fast; the touchy one was “Shower.” And Thunder Struck was somewhat of a dolt. The cute one pampered by fair Prairie Flower well-deserved his name of Thunder Squall, and like another brother Thunder Shower, got teased, but even louder did he bawl! Both “Squall” and “Shower” vexed their brother “Cloud,” for Thunder Cloud by moodiness was led and always scowled at them for crying out loud! Great Thunder Head filled everyone with dread, but the wild son who proved the biggest sap came home infected. That was Thunder Clap!


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Miraculous Veroni

I don't believe in miracles, only you.
A sigh of love could say it all. This is true,
that ever since you looked at me I have known
I would never feel the same, oh how I've grown.

Never again will we mire in doubt. This time
You and I will cast the shadows from our minds.
This time I would learn from you all that I can,
what it truly means to be your perfect man.

How holy it feels to see behind your eyes.
My love has touched your core, infinite in size.
A universe of happiness now we bring
in union that defies the need for this ring.

My darling Veroni*, what have you become?
Where once there were two, now all I see is one.








*Vera + Yoni = Veroni


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Mother

A mother carried you in her womb,
Her happiness moment is when you were born and she met you.
A mother is tender and nurtures you.
She does everything to take care of you.
A mother is your protector who keeps you out of harms way.
She worries about you night and day.
A mother is your supporter and inspiration.
She guides you in the right direction.
A mother is your comfort when you need an ear,
She is the only one who is true and dear.
A mother sets an example,
There is nothing too great for her to handle.
A mother's love is unconditional,
All the decisions she makes are rational.
A mother is valuable and strong,
Not afraid to tell you what's right when you're wrong.
A mother does everything to give you what you need,
She's there cheering you on to succeed.
A mother will always be your mother,
She is irreplaceable because you will never get another.
A mother goes over and beyond,
Nothing can come in between a mother and her child's bond.
A mother is truly a gift that needs to be appreciated,
She is the reason why you were created.
A mother would die for you,
She lives her life for you.
A mother sacrifices her wants for yours,
She is your own personal super hero and more.

       May 10, 2014
~The One and Only~


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Michael's Blessed Birthday (Kyrielle Sonnet)

Have a blessed birthday Michael J Today I knelt for you to pray May His guiding light shine on you God’s grace I pray will bring you through May you have strength on your birthday With family this holiday Celebrating with faith like new God’s grace I pray will bring you through As your son returns home today Like a rainbow brightens the day Continue to wear a smile too God’s grace I pray will bring you through Have a blessed birthday Michael J God’s grace I pray will bring you through © Joseph, 11/20/07 © All Rights Reserved Hello Michael, have a blessed birthday and Thanksgiving holiday with your brave son and family. May God bless each of you always and as a family! The Kyrielle Sonnet is a French form from the Middle Ages. It has 14 lines (three rhyming quatrains and a non-rhyming couplet). It has a repeating line or phrase as a refrain in the last line of each stanza. Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet has eight syllables. There are times when a French poem links back to the poem’s beginning; therefore, a common practice is to combine the first line of the first quatrain and the refrain in each quatrain as the ending couplet for the poem.


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Resolve


'...and then the lighting of the lamps.'
                                    -T.S. Eliot


Swallows flit and dart, the glow of evening
   settles o'er the fields, the day is fading;
sunset gilds the sky with glorious luster,
   vibrant reds and golds, and softer shading.
Lamps are lit, the countryside is flickering
   in candlelight, the cows are coming home;
peacefulness descends in waves of twilight,
   the animals are safe, no need to roam.
Horses tethered to their posts are waiting
   for the exertions of the day ahead;
farmers partake, extinguish their candles
   to darkness, and then take themselves to bed
      to pray for courage to endure their toil,
      for days they spend in harness to the soil.


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Grow Not Too Tall

Grow not too tall nor so far away son
Plant not your tendrils deep in new ground
Thinking newness your past can now outrun
Stay in touch let your heart remain homebound

Tree too tall without deep roots falls subject
to any strong wind, let those roots remain
Planted in truth grow toward right_connect
With justice, let love's seeds grow don't constrain

Reach up to touch shining stars capture love
Reel it in let love flow through you to all
Love is key_even though at times unheard of
Remember God's Word don't be like King Saul

Don't grow to proud, high, mighty, arrogant.
Intellect_ learning _start to mightily flaunt 

Click on "About This Poem"


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Jabberwacky

I know a scamp who chortles frabjously
as in the springtime galumphing he goes.
And just to show how wacky he can be,
he makes his tongue point up to touch his nose!

He has no wicked claws or eyes with flame
to match those of the manxome Jabberwock.
But just beware his jaws. Although he’s tame,
he can’t be stopped once he begins to talk!

I vouch that he can jabber endlessly
and have me at the end of my short rope.
My ears just might fall off one day, for he
gyres gibberish just like a gyroscope.

I dub my beamish grandson “Jabberwack”
for how he acts and how he loves to yak!


For Debbie Guzzi's "Go Ask Alice" Contest


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Standing Tall

I’ve had many families in this life
of origin school navy and here too
I admit the best ones came with a wife
we all know life at times can be a zoo

I’m no Robert Young from Father knows best
wife and I are planning a family
I’ll have more gray hair coming from no rest
having this life there’s no reason to flee

poetry has renewed my life some how
always knew writing was therapeutic
expressing my true feelings here and now
I can relax when life is real hectic

my life may not be the greatest at all
no matter what I have always stood tall


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FATHER

FATHER
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


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My Dream Home

A home is where I run to, after a roam
Under blue skies or starry ones
Made of majesty, as found in Rome
I become there, as calm as the white swans

A home made of love
Where are heard songs of comfort
Found over the bridge of pain and above
I find in it my own strong fort

A home ecologically clean
Showing no harm to Earth
Bearing no grudge to the mean
Living is simply a matter of pure breath!

My dreamhome, one in a million, without any fear
Shall I build, along with my chosen peer!


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Deathbed Sonnet

And even after all that time had passed;
            my moon had set above another sun,
it seems my heart was still at odds with past;
            my tongue at war with words I left unsung.

This bed of ardor caught between my teeth,
            will thus remain, and even grow post haste,
where all the while, there's nothing I'll bequeath 
            excepting flowers scent, above my waste.

And so it goes with every vacant beast,
            as twenty-twenty sees - I should have done!
I should have said; I should have been, at least
            a man awake to seed his endless sun.

And as the night descends upon my thought,
            remember son these words that, I lived not.




© Kristin Reynolds 3 11 09


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The Lost Sheep

(Joy Over Sinners' Repentance
MT 18:10-14
LK 15:1-7)

The tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to him
The Pharisees and scribes began to complain
Saying
"This man welcomes sinners and eats with them
" So to them he addressed this parable 

"What man among you having a hundred sheep and losing one of them would not leave the ninety-nine in the desert and go after the lost one until he finds it? 
And when he does find it
 He sets it on his shoulders with great joy 
upon his arrival home, he calls together his friends and neighbors and says to them,

'Rejoice with me because I have found my lost sheep.' 
I tell you, 
In just the same way there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance. (LK 15:1-7)


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MEGAN'S HIT - the Baseball Sonnet

      MEGANS HIT - the Baseball Sonnet
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!

                    II.

"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!"
(the umpire was my Daddy, in this 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!
   
                   III.

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!

                   IV.

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!

                V.

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


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Confirmation

The Sacrament of Confirmation

Confirmation perfects baptismal grace

The Sacrament gives the Holy Spirit to root us more deeply in divine filiation

Incorporate us more firmly to Fr. Christ

Strengthen our bond with the Church

Associate us more closely with her mission

Help us bear witness to Christian faith in words accompanied by deeds

Like Baptism imprints a spiritual mark or indeliable character of the Christian soul

For this reason one can receive this sacrament only once in one’s life

A candidate for Confirmation has attained the age of reason must profess faith

Be in the state of grace

Have the intention of receiving the Sacrament

Be prepared to assume the role of disciple

Witness to Fr. Christ, both within the Ecclesial bond

Annointing of the forehead of the baptized with sacred chrism


Written 09172012


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Once Upon A Time

Once a week the grandson comes to Granny's 
He loves to get special treats tucked away 
Searching every nook and little crannies
Then while he snacks he loves to play, play, play..

Last week his day at Granny's house involved
Outside play, some time reading tractor books
Then in a few minutes truck play evolved
Through all of them he loves to look and look

Then he left granny's house and headed home
With memories of what happened there
He wanted to talk to Granny on the phone
He asked," With what truck are you playing and where?"

I told him, " I'm not now playing with a truck
but with Neopet; soon I'll get the fire truck stuck."  

Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Contest: Tickle My Funny Bone
Written: March 12, 2014


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Family

F orming an everlasting bond where you can all relate to each other.

 
A ccepting their flaws, rights, wrongs, or indifferences no matter what they've done.

 
M oving mountains if that's what it takes to hold it all together.

 
L oving unconditionally with out judgement.

 
I ntergrading your hearts and minds.

 
Y oung to adult always having their backs from now until forever.

December 18, 2013
~The One and Only~


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Grandpa

(based on a picture)

Two metal figures rest on his desk--
A slender black crane and skinny black dog.
For years they have rested there standing on edge
As reminders and guardians of a darker past.

But these things are unknown to the boy;
The grandson who sits on his grandfather's lap.
He reaches for the figures that look like toys;
Like innocent igures meant for his pleasure.

Caught up in the moment, the grandpa relents;
He gives up his memories, gives up the grief
That have been with him as long as these figures
And he watches young hands handle the "toys".

He reflects while watching, his slight smile grim
That recycled gunmetal was used to make them.


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Mom

Can I tell you, Mom, that I love you?
You smile so bright it lights up a room,
I can’t help appreciate all that you do,
Like you make luscious flowers bloom.
Rough winds do try to shake your beauty,
You stand tight and hold steady.
Raising me was your solemn duty,
When being there for me, you were always ready. 
But though your age, your job shall not end,
For your job as a mother will be vigorous,
 You will always have a helping hand to lend,
And that is why you’re marvelous!
When your brown hair gets all white and gray,
I’ll be there to help you like you do today.


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A Purple Skirt

Many and many years ago back when
Many were poor and poverty was real
Lay offs happened_momma got fired then
We lived rural with pork, dry peas for a meal

Daddy worked, my brother worked a job too
So there was some money to pay those bills
Extras were not thought of_real needs accrue
Then my aunt came with clothes_now not dullsville

They pulled out this purple skirt with those buttons
Purple buttons how I loved those jewels
Quickly at once they said too mature, hon
Snip went those buttons_no bombshell

Pressed the skirt_wrinkles gone poverty stayed
Today those purple buttons mood arrayed  

Sponsor: Blacked Eyed Susan
Contest: Buttons


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Little Sister the Chef

Being the little sister in a family with mostly boys
Was very hard and difficult liking all their toys
I loved to play in the dirt , could throw any ball
Played "running bases", "tag", and loved "off the wall"

My sister was way older and she was never home
So I was forced to battle with my brothers on my own
I fought my battles valiantly, but each time I would lose
Being youngest in a family,I often became the muse

I cried many tears those many years ago
For competing with those boys,I had a lot to show
I grew older,strong, and smarter and chose a tough career
Cooking for a living in a man's world, I showed no fear

Those brothers had taught me to always fight for what's right
A women could cook as well as a man, and besides I had a knife!


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Mother

Mother
Oh Mother, why have you left me on the shores of lonesomeness?
Without you, I amount to nothing.
I miss you, and I miss your bosom’s tenderness.
You protected, you fed, and you were my closest peer.
When I became ill, you healed.
When I crumbled in hopelessness, you stood behind as firm backbone,
For strong you are and steady; I lingered within your fortress, behind your shield.
Forever protective; as a watchful knight that has been sworn.
Seldom, I am strong, without your wholesome feminism.
Oh Mother, I dearly miss your divine presence.
Love you; I do, with undoubted truism.
My heart, you comfort; forever, I feel your essence.
You complete me in every way.
Regardless of age, in your warmth I stay. 


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Megan's Hit

        MEGAN'S HIT
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!

                    II.

"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!
   
                   III.

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!

                   IV.

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!

                V.

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


Details | Sonnet | |

From My Kitchen Window

From my kitchen window, one single rose
red in color, bud opening, soft scent.
In distance golden leaves for picture pose,
adjust shutter snap capture heart's intent.

Heart's intent on beauty of God's creation;
not on pleasing three men with my cooking.
Although I serve them as the Galilean,
who came to serve, not to be served as King.

Long in heart to escape into nature,
feeling gentle breeze upon ancient face.
Fall's colors, cool dry air is the real lure.
These from my depressed being those blues chase.

Meals prepared while heart does looking outside.
Spirit lifted above, high thoughts reside..



Click on
"About This Poem"


Details | Sonnet | |

The Home

I leave my heart secreted far away,
In my home, my sanctum, my hidey-hole.
Each day I leave, but every night I stay.
My heart in it's home, always safe and whole.

Where ever I wander, my heart always
Calls me home, to my family and friends.
To a nice warm bed. To a fire ablaze:
We huddle close to chat and warm our hands.

My heart, my hope, my soul, all dwell right here.
The roots of my life, trapped in a building.
Within my reach is all that I hold dear.
Memories here, carved into the molding

Yet are not people more important than
The place? I will enjoy it while I can.


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Catch Me If You Can French Sonnet

<               enticing to eyes watching mama's pink roses bloom
                 fourty years later someone else now cares for them
                 fresh cut daily and seen in her arms their long stems
                 tears streaming down face I sit under swollen moon
                 waiting watching for sun to come up again soon
                 to catch one more glimsp of mama's planted old gems
                 unfurling petals before been chopped or condemned
                 think I'll ask if can take one for my dining room

                 aroma bursting amidst thy supper's table
                 bowed heads we come and thank our Heavenly father
                 somebody still cared though sick and times unable
                 and answers it's door for which one has come bothered
                 to let bask in roses empowering fable
                 and not to be called as it's one's roses robber



French Sonnet is a poem with rhyme scheme
Of ABBAABBA and CDCDCD
Or ABBAABBA and CDECDE
Syllable count is 12 syllable per line.


Details | Sonnet | |

Jesus Christ' Parable - Master's Return


Being Prepared for Judgment
MT 24:45-51
MK 13:34-37
LK 12:35-48

"Gird your loins and light your lamps, be like servants who await their master's return from a wedding, ready to open immediately when he comes and knocks.

Blessed are those servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival.

Amen, I say to you, he will gird himself, have them recline at table, and proceed to wait on them.

Should he come in the second or third watch and find them prepared in this way, blessed are those servants.

Be sure of this:

If the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into.

You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect.

The Son of Man will come."

But if that servant says to himself, 'My master is delayed in coming,' 

Begins to beat the menservants and the maidservants, to eat and drink and get drunk,

Then that servant's master will come on an unexpected day and at an unknown hour and will punish him severely and assign him a place with the unfaithful.

That servant who knew his master's will but did not make preparations nor act in accord with his will shall be beaten severely

The servant who was ignorant of his master's will but acted in a way deserving of a severe beating shall be beaten only lightly.

Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more." (Taken from LK 12:35-40, 45-48)


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Destiny

An incomplete love letter
I apologized for the pain i had caused
Before i switched pens to express the love i still had
The regrets i still harbor
So everybody get on board
Men and women tickets, please!
Tonight we escape the land
But the hearts beat on, as the waves free our souls
Destined to catch the sunset in Madrid
To the lives we've chose
No more regrets
Just rocky sailing to destiny
Oh God, get me home safely


Details | Sonnet | |

Temporary Home

 
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.


Details | Sonnet | |

True to life


Get-go scrupulous attention, 
live to cornucopia,
Coherence in familial bonds 
must ever stay,
Romantic evening is 
reminiscent of happier times,
Are the ones standing by you 
on your final day!

Guileless life, a battlefield of 
every Titan,
For evolution of the race, you 
ought to play,
Contentious hard work makes 
it iridescent,
Hypothecate moulding for 
betterment as if in clay!

Sun gifted you its brightest 
sunshine,
Fragrance added through each 
breathful air,
Brew your friends well for a 
perfect wine,
Appreciate nature add up to a 
day's debonair!!

Life is fugacious yet addicting, 
its secrets camouflage,
Adopt blithesome attitude, 
risible for a hearty laugh !!


Written by - Dr Upma Sharma
Contest name- Take two
Sponsor- Nette onclaud
On 03/4/14

Previously entered into 
Shakespearian Sonnet competition 
sponsored by Karen Puff,
Written actually on 26/1/14

















Details | Sonnet | |

No meaning of my love

when you find another friend i never mind,
you go for a drink or walk, I never went behind,
i look after you and your family, I don't complain,
you come late when asking, you speak a lie plain,
i find you hear phone secretly and trying to bind,
i never blame,' you 're wrong' and have no fight,
you care me and my family it was only my delight,
you 're wrong to have left me and changed your mind,
few years later a young lady ruined you and run away,
you become old and sick approached me to stay,
you died nobody noticed police found you a week later,
i told children,''you died' they said,' he died for 25 years hater,
A man learns from mistake we read always a quotation,
who learns a lesson to change climax, we believe in fashion.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Visit

.
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


Finis'

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...


Details | Sonnet | |

Some Advice in This Sonnet

Some Advice in This Sonnet

A few words of advice in this sonnet:
Don’t hurt, if you too don’t like to be hurt.
When bad deeds return, you might regret it.
So watch your deeds, and take care of your words.

Always know that from above you’re being watched.
On your right and left are angels writing –
Collect whatever good deeds you may lack,
To please God and meet Him while He’s smiling.

Avoid supplications prayed against you,
Especially those of righteous Muslims.
Beware of everything you see and do –
Know that on Judgment Day, you’ll be questioned.

Obey Allah’s Rules, and good you shall get.
If you displease Allah, yours is regret.

Miriam / Mariam Mababaya


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Like The Finest Of Wines

You say I'm old enough to know better;
But I am still young enough not to care--
So I'll compose another love letter
To shake up your world, my dear lady-fair.
Your kiss still goes to my head like champagne.
(I should have built a tolerance by now!)
They send me spinning around and again...
I can't get enough of them anyhow.
I may not chase as fast as I used to,
Nor do my passions carry me away,
But my heart's embers still smolder for you-
And they prob'ly will 'til my dying day.
Our love matures like the finest of wine,
Whose bouquet piquant endures for all time.


Details | Sonnet | |

Lost and Lonely Waifs

Standing in the frigid wind outside the bus stop doors
She seemed lost and lonely as the cars past with a roar.
Waiting for my only child the son whom I adore
I couldn’t help but wonder where was she headed for?

The prodigal returned through those same two frosty doors
But though the night was getting dark no one came for her.
Stopping right beside her, the radio blaring a Christmas score
We asked her if she needed help could we do any more?

Her wind burnt cheeks rose with the smile she wore
“Thank you, no.” She said. Her eyes they did explore
the warm interior and the street stretched out before
My folks are late but coming soon at least I’m pretty sure…

We left her there before the door yet still my heart implores
How many lost and lonely waifs are left standing by the door? 

*Monorhyme is Sonnet form using slip or half rhyme.
Some good deeds go unaccepted.



Details | Sonnet | |

Chiccory Coffee

C_Coffee with chiccory her tasty delight
H_Happy was she with saltine crackers buttered
I_Intellect above with which she was gifted
C_Character was hers, caring for others with might
C_Cancer took her good life as takes those polite
O_Opportunity she gave many others
R_Right she always did because of great light
Y_Yes with Jesus now in His great light alright

C_Chiccory coffee Louisana was her brand
O_Opened doors for me to see different view
F_For she was kind, gentle, loving, refined soul
F_Family she loved gave to them friendship grand
E_Entered Kingdom for she trusted, love her goal
E_Eternal life for loving people whole


Contest;"The Sonnet Man's Acrostic Challenge
Sponsor:Dakarai Cobb

(Chiccory__is an alternative spelling of the 
word Chicory..It is acceptable. This is about
my favorite Aunt.)


Details | Sonnet | |

A Bubble Blown Up With Breath

I will tell of love in fourteen short lines
Remember when you chipped bone in kneecap
So much pain for you and me nothing fine
Knee pain for you for me nausea trap

You had surgery, nausea had me
One baby in arms another womb bound
When you came home, total care you no glee
Beside chamber nausea vomit round

Daily existence for weeks ugly trap 
Baby, husband's care between nausea
Holding baby my only relief gap
Situation had me deep undersea

Love is deep when one gives beyond their strength
Giving beyond the call of duty is youngth


Details | Sonnet | |

Mum

I grown up in her strong arms,
she protected me with her charms,
I never seen change in all weathers,
she cuddled me in her feathers,
and faced with confident my harms.
I never noticed time when I reach at home,
She opens the door why it not comes to my dome,
I disturbed her and never signed her warms.
She is my mum I walk with this pride, 
she also has right why do I hide terms?
I forgot her to dispatch a bunch of flower,
I were busy to construct my life tower.
She cooked, cleaned and walked for hope,
I love my taste she builds my future top.


Details | Sonnet | |

To My Sister, : Sharon

Her Comments, entranced me: Her POEMS even more so
Her POETRY enhanced me: She watered me, so I could grow
A Bow, an Honorary Golden Pen, My Respect I give to thee
To my Sister Sharon, Love I send, FOREVER throughout Eternity

We share a kindred Spirit, our Emotions, Heartbeat, Love and Fears
L’il Sister Writes; I hear it, I feel her words of joy, love, sorrow, tears
“Is Your inkwell filled with my thoughts?” “Yes, and YOUR “Inspiration”
I will not attempt to change Your thoughts: “become a POETRY “Inspiration””

Your lyrics, on the roads of my mind, Your Spirit beating in a Loving Brother’s Heart
I know not where to begin the path of my mind, “Your Love for “Lenore, Always a start”
With quivering  hand I grasp my Quill, dip it in the inkwell, Lost in the words LOVE Writes
To Honor YOU a Brother’s; “Thrill”. HGarvey Daniel Esquire, (HG) ; Harry wrote these Writes

So sad to see YOUR Pen Laid down my Most BELOVED ; Sharon Weimer ( “ L’il  SIS “ )
I Thank-YOU for the POETRY and the times we have (SHAR)ED, I give too YOU a Loving
                                         ( " K I S S " )
A Sonnet Tribute to : SHARON WEIMER, A former POETESS on this site (We Miss YOU)


Details | Sonnet | |

Tenant Farmers

Rejection of Christ
MT 21:33-46
MK 12:1-12
LK 20:9-19

Then he proceeded to tell the people this parable. "(A) man planted a vineyard, leased it to tenant farmers
 Then went on a journey for a long time. 
At harvest time he sent a servant to the tenant farmers to receive some of the produce of the vineyard
But they beat the servant and sent him away empty-handed. So he proceeded to send another servant, but him also they beat and insulted and sent away empty-handed
Then he proceeded to send a third, but this one too they wounded and threw out
The owner of the vineyard said, 'What shall I do? 
I shall send my beloved son; maybe they will respect him.' 
But when the tenant farmers saw him they said to one another, 'This is the heir
Let us kill him that the inheritance may become ours.' So they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him
What will the owner of the vineyard do to them? He will come and put those tenant farmers to death and turn over the vineyard to others
" When the people heard this, they exclaimed, "Let it not be so!" But he looked at them and asked
"What then does this scripture passage mean: 
'The stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone'? 
Everyone who falls on that stone will be dashed to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls
" The scribes and chief priests sought to lay their hands on him at that very hour
But they feared the people, for they knew that he had addressed this parable to them. (LK 20:9-19)


Details | Sonnet | |

Tears at My Age

For all the tears we’ve wept, for all of those we’ve lost.
We’ll weep again some more, as we’re told we matter not.
You know they will not say it, but it’s there within their eyes.
The old and frail aren’t welcome, as they’re steadily pushed aside.

If you don’t believe me, then at a party get up as if to dance.
Mouths will gawk and eyes will roll as they come to set us back.
They’ll act like we’re so shameful, as we laugh, and have some fun.
Then they’ll come to guide us to a chair somewhere in the background.

Our wisdom isn’t needed; they’re far too superior for that.
They can’t respect the old ones' thoughts, who're out of date, in fact.
Of course they want our money, and will gladly scope out our homes.
And they want us to beleaguer ourselves so they can go happily on.

But where is the regard that they say our age is due…
Too often it’s in a distant Nursing home no one will ever drive to.



This is dedicated to all those lost souls left in Nursing Homes whom no one
ever visits.


Details | Sonnet | |

May Day

May 31, 2010


May Day! 

I sprout with a surprise springing forth from me today.
Birds sing such a magnificent most pleasurable praise.
I want to be the one He promised soon He would raise.
I will be celebrated all by myself on that God-given day.
I will stand in His Gracious Glory at His appointed Say.
Yesterday will be but a blurring faded haze, life a craze.
He sets my soul on fire and sets my spirit off in a blaze.
I bet I will buzz like a bee zipping by you each May Day!
It is all in a day just for me to say.
Ta! Da! I’d bet you did not realize!
May Day! May Day! I say let’s play!
Walla! I say May Day’s materialize!

Waiting every May Day is loads of fun,
Unbelievably, May Day is never done!

®Registered: Ann Rich 2010


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To The Niece That Never Was

Sweet little girl who snuck upon her mom
without plans already in place to meet,
you’re a tiny hero, a bitter balm
for the wound that left an empty car seat.
A routine visit that ended in tears,
and an operation for the next week.
My sister’s truth was a mother’s worst fear,
never to hold her babe, to stroke her cheek.

After the grim appointment, her eyes glazed
her heart rate jumped high, and her fever raised.
Illness would have stolen her, but for fate.
You had asked a favor at heaven’s gate.
Thank you for saving my sister, sweet one.
I wish though, it didn’t mean your life was done.

11/3/12


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From An Abused Lady

     FROM AN ABUSED LADY
I've known our end is here for sometime now,
but your sweet talking ways led my heart on
to think we'd overcome it all somehow
avoiding what is plain, our love is gone.

So now the truth, and cold reality,
comes to my mind, as sure as do your lies.
And I must put aside what you tell me
but not the truth that's in your lying eyes.

How you could beg my love then go your way
into anothers arms, I shouldn't know,
now time is gone when I'd have more to say
and so I'll simply bid you now to go.

   And if your fits of rage leave one more mark,
   your future will be bleak, and cold, and dark.
            © ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet.


Details | Sonnet | |

Irreplaceable

This is my family, oddities and all.
Cam wants to see the world yet currently
lives a stones throw away from Mother's call.
While bubbly Michelle wears rainbow attire
as if to challenge her smile openly
shared. My siblings sometimes ice, sometimes fire,
but  they are apart of me, through and through.
Justin smokes like a chimney, drinks like a
sailor (and cooler than a glacier, too!).
Mom and Dad don't have a thing in common,
but thirty-four years states they're a-okay.
This is my family, oddities and all,
but they are apart of me through and through.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Simmons' Personas "Of Mind's Darkness"

 “Ronald Gene Simmons” death’s synonymous,
   This methodic demon murdered the lot!
      The executioner, autonomous,
        Not a family member aware of plot!     
Grandchildren’s redemption, a rain barrel!
  Murdered daughter, mother of his daughter,
    Drowned in  holy times of Christmas carol,
      Autonomous plot, demonic slaughter. 
Personas demonic beseeches void,
  Murderous demons of the void darkness,
    Illusion’s personas of minds deployed,
      Lost deranged souls without love, are artless. 
This deranged soul, mind illusion’s manure,
  Dumped bodies in cesspit, then had a beer!!!

For: Tragedy is More Enjoyable Than Comedy
In Honor of; Dr Ram Mehta

Ronald Gene Simmons #131 
Ronald Gene Simmons killed 14 members of his extended family in Russellville, Ark., over a 
course of three days at Christmas 1987. Between the murders he drank beer and watched TV!
www.clarkprosecutor.org/html/death/US/simmons131.htm 
Summary: 
Ronald Gene Simmons was a retired Air Force Sergeant. Over the Christmas holidays in 1987, 
he methodically executed 14 members of his family: 6 daughters, 3 sons, 2 grandsons, 1 son-
in-law, 1 daughter-in-law and his wife. (One of his daughters was also his granddaughter)
Two days later, he went into town and killed two others. Waived all appeals.


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The Seasons Of Our Love

We met in Summer, though it felt like Spring.
It was a time for newly-born passions;
Never fearing what the future could bring,
But probably not ready for love’s seasons.
From passion we created a new life
To bind us then more closer together.
When we finally became man and wife, 
Maybe Summer would then last forever.
In our Autumn years, our sons have both grown.
It seems like the seasons all leave to fast.
I’m grateful for the years of love I’ve known,
And feel for you like I felt in Springs past.
There’s nothing to fear about growing old,
Except living alone in Winter’s cold.


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Sunshine and Rainbows

Childhood days of long ago, were sunny.
I seldom had a reason for a tear.
If sadness should come unexpectedly,
Strong, loving arms of comfort would be near.
Welcomed after a quartet of loved sons,
I was my parent’s long awaited girl.
They and my four brothers doted on me.
Life was the fabled oyster, I the pearl.

Sheltered as I was from life’s disasters,
When even my young brothers did their part
To show me the beauty all around me,
I could not help but grow a happy heart.
Though sadness has accosted me at times,
My happy heart has softened it with rhymes.

Written:  May 23,2012 

Theme (2) “Happy Heart”


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My first mothersday

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"
09/02/2014
(c) Elly Wouterse

(*) in Dutch spelled "Cathrien'.. 


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from Suede Dragon and the Theoretical Formula

A fragrant dancing tickles in my nose Inhaling deep- intoxicant perfume- Of some invisible narcotic rose. The earth is host to swirling love in bloom! Yet summers final blossom wilts away. Each dawning promissory sunset sky- Spectacular transition- ends each day, And no escaping, not for you and I! Two points of view may vary constancy, Surrendering to marginal debate. Relinquishing all fervent penalty, Embracing change, I yield, my devastate. May love transcendent of mentality Deliver always swift reality!


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Familial Bonds

A fellow stranger's doubt will surely sense  
Judgmental indiscretion of defect.  
'Tween enemies pure hatred circumvents  
The moral obligation to respect.  
 
The various consistencies as friend,  
Distill from swollen hearts this lonely ache,  
With passion starts yet may abruptly end  
So rarely people risk their hearts to break.  
 
A lover's walk is not fatality,  
Creating life two intimately share.  
If nurtured, loved, and taught respectfully  
Prosperity so gratefully will care.  
 
Of all relations listed here above  
Why is it people suffer feeling love?


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Life of Sickness

I played catch with my dad once in my life
I was very young playing catch with Dad
they were laughing at me dad and his wife
Dad’s drinking did get mother very mad

after the divorce dad was remarried
he lived in different places down south
Mother wanted those memories buried
Mother did yell and shout with her loud mouth

growing up I did learn sports on my own
living with my sister and my mother
fortunately Bonnie and I have grown
today Bonnie hates her little brother

actually Alanon helped me out
I learn of alcoholism without doubt




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THANK YOU DAD AND MOM

A sonnet to a faded little rose,
Could never hope to tell you how I feel.
The things you gave up just for me do show,
That parental love is your only seal.
Since birth you've been near just to protect me,
And help me up each time that I would fall,
And guide me with a hand on which I'd lean,
Depending as I start down lifes vast hall.
When I have gone from your home to my own,
To rear my family as you did rear me. 
I only hope that God will help me know,
The joy and sorrows, that I once caused thee.

My love for you is as endless as time itself,
And deeper than the oceans deepest cove.

                           Cile Beer

written l955






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Dysfunctional Life

I’m living in a dysfunctional home
this takes me back to my forgotten youth
No matter what I still feel I’m lonesome
and just like back than I’m still seeking truth

No doubt about it the holidays suck
Emotions are high and the need for cash
We wait anxiously for UPS truck
No doubt it’s probably nothing but trash

Sometimes good days come upon all of us
but good days are very slim in this house
because every day there’s always a fuss
Sometimes I wonder I’m good without spouse

The dysfunctional life last forever
but twelve steps programs are very clever



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PACKING


Plan a complete list as the journey calls;
Align you fond needs with creature comforts;
Choose then the best gist with homely footfalls;
Keep a steady feed beyond things deferred;
Include your best toys as wit can weave pun;
Now gather your stuff with conscious delight;
Glimpse pleasant employ from travel and fun.
Free form floods enough as treasures fill sight;
Orbit your motions with generous jest;
Reach for the easy with all thoughts breezy.
Touch fancies function as wayfarer's zest;
Ripe is the frenzy for outcomes friendly;
Indulge your witness with new waves of change;
Placate new madness as meetings feel strange.


Leon Enriquez
18 May 2014
Singapore


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If I Had Just One Day Left to Live

If I had just one day left to live
Wisdom I'd share to my children I'd give
Just for a while we would sit down and talk
A last sitting for us all, before my soul walks

We would talk of our past remembering all the times we have shared
Look to your future for my last day I'm prepared
For a couple of hours my favourite films I would watch
The Shawshank and Private Ryan, with a Jack Daniels no Scotch

With the hours, minutes and seconds ticking by
My eyes will soon close and I'll say my goodbye's
I'll miss all of nature and the warmth of the sun
But most of all my children, my daughter and three sons

The evening now draws as I look back on my years
What little light I see goes, now the blackness appears


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Down Where The Forsythia Blooms

Down the road where the Forsythia bloomed
Bright yellow despite dark clouds amassed
Flooding rains, thunder, lightening flashed
Touched with sadness for home removed

Spirits of hardy souls still live
Floating shrouds mixed with the rain
Hear their voices in the howling wind
Feel their presence in Bamboo Chimes again

On days like today with gray_flooding
Winds that chill_sleep elusive
One bright spot offers assurance_comfort
Knowing that in our going memories will linger


For at least one generation children will see
Our lives lived down where the Forsythia blooms

(I know that the rhyming and syllable count is off)


Details | Sonnet | |

More Than Meets the Eye

Don't blame the bearer of bad news -
A gun doesn't kill by itself or a knife,
Nor a violent video game or hostile views;
An evil act is but wrought by a mind's strife.

When you nurture a seedling or stunt its growth,
You can foretell it'll be a vine or an oak tree,
So is with the mind of a child as he grows forth -
Will he be hateful or inherit his life stress-free.

There are spiritual laws that govern with
the same certainty as the physical laws;
Faith, trust in God, and love are not ancient myth
But values that shape the character sans flaws.

Like putty, wax, dough or a lump of clay,
Mold the child right lest another soul he slay!


Details | Sonnet | |

Happy Sobbing over Jane Austin

So absorbed I become,  I must hold my breath
While reading of love's unrequited quest
A tissue in hand wipes a tear from my eye
Enthralled with such bliss, I joyfully cry!

Cover to cover, each novel tells the same
Stories of restraint, where respect still had a name
To honor tradition, often true love had to hide
Keeping family dignity, maintaining family pride

Mr. Darcy so adores her....while she dreams about him too
Complex misunderstandings. Oh dear! Now what will they do?
Unrequited love is burning, ...twisting, turning, bending
That final page of yearnings, how I rejoice at happy endings!!

Such sadness and anguish, but as strange as it may seem....
Jane Austin love stories....give me tragic....happy....dreams! !


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


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Brotherhood

With the love of my brother I was bonded,
And of such, I was blinded,
I failed to see his quality in others,
And I compare other love with his
His love was with trust and understanding,
His love was with care and kindness,
His love was with equal and sweetness,
His love was with courage and mindful

Not because he was my brother,
But because he was a man of sober,
And always in less violent and more verbal 
He is Precious.
And so I find it difficult to have such where he is not there,
And with this, thus, I have none love left for others


Details | Sonnet | |

Life, Love and Marriage

When fate decides to bring you love
Nothing can stop it not even the tearful dove
With love comes warmth and joy
With love red are the cheeks so coy


When fate decides to give you a kin
Be it a king or a queen, like you in skin
Life would require you to try the tricks
To turn your ruler into makers of sticks


When fate decides to your kins married
There shall be none other than you worried
For three decades, their shadows you carried
Now comes the time to have your tasks buried


O Fate, who can be more powerful than you
With your magic wand, our lives change hue!


Details | Sonnet | |

In other concentric yellow yearning yesterday

Embracing both honey and yellow bitterness,
Golden bees` benedictions in amber soul,
In condensation on the breasts tenderness,
With indomitable embers new blue sky call;
In yellow yesterday, it was your young sun: 
He took its yacht behind the wrought iron rocks;
Glowing in the subtle worn concentric pun,
From its garret, the moon, a girl with blond locks
Sat near the yearning wreath of the apple trees;
She’s ready to travel and balance the grove at its best:
With secret fruit caressed by a mellow breeze,
Ready to spin a yarn about the yeast of  the West;

In other concentric yellow yearning yesterday;
The stars` mutiny began running away the gray.



Details | Sonnet | |

USA Marriage Justice Today

Oh, my sweet girl, come and shack up, with me.
We shall live on welfare and space out to see.
How many food stamp cards, we can arrange,
We shall visit for meds and beg for change.
Upon the riverbanks, we shall catch a cold.
Then we shall collect our oxy-cotton gold.
I shall gather clothes from good wills chest.
You prepare to go visit relatives in the west.
My sweet girl I shall give you no gold.
However, get you, giving us babies to hold.
A bed of daisies, I shall have waiting for you.
For freshening up our pet hound, old blue.
Our cousin Joe has a house that is so big.
We shall move in, us all, even with our pig.


Details | Sonnet | |

What I Gave

Thirty-four years of fist fights and screaming fits;
 threats of killing, suicide; public embarrassments.
In front of my husband and son they crossed a line.
What I gave them was a piece of my mind.

"I am done with this." "We should part ways." I said,
"Before someone ends up seriously hurt, or dead."
I felt no sadness. I couldn't shed a tear.
To think about it; I gave them 15 years.

I went to see them, knowing their health was bad.
Prayer and apologies from me, Mom and Dad.
Things are better after our long time apart.
Peace of mind for fifteen years; lost.... a piese of my heart.

With great sadnes, of disfunction I tell.
For giving and losing..... the balance scale.



July 01, 2014
Contest: What I gave
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper



Details | Sonnet | |

Eucharist


Fr. Christ said “I am the living bread that came down from heaven...

If anyone eats this bread

He will live forever

Who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, abides in Me and I in him"

Essential signs of Eucharistic Sacrament are wheat bread and grape wine

Communion with the Body and Blood of Fr. Christ increases the communicant’s union 
with the Lord God.

Receiving this sacrament strengthens the bonds of charity between the communicant and Fr. Christ

It also reinforces the unity of the Church as the mystical Body of Fr. Christ

The Church recommends the faithful to receive the Holy Communion at least once a year.

Fr. Christ Himself is present in the sacrament of the altar

He is to be honored with the worship adoration

To visit the Blessed Sacrament is a proof of gratitude

Expression of love

Duty of adoration toward Fr. Christ, Jesus our Lord


Written 09182012


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Holiday Mishaps

The room looks over and starts to chuckle.
An oddly beautiful stream of cider
Erupting from the nose of my uncle.
Kids waiting for a Christmas night rider,

All hoping to finally see Saint Nick.
Aunty Mary stands up and starts to twirl,
Nigh knocking over a lamp, she stops quick,
And she instead flattens the nearest girl.

Family running to see if she is fine,
We end up running into each other.
Dinner’s done, I head for the starting line,
And I’m elbowed in the face by brother.

It wouldn’t be family, well I assume,
Lack a trip to the emergency room.


Details | Sonnet | |

Have A Sardine

Have a Sardine? :

Oh how I love to eat sardines?
Just the thought makes my face turn puce!
Gas in my tummy, they induce.
They don't go that well with baked beans.

Sandwiches made with these morsels.
Can only eat two at a time;
taken with a bit of fresh lime.
Some people eat them with mussels.

The thought of these will make some puke!
Keep it away, he will rebuke!
The smell enough to make him sneeze,
the sight of which will make him wheeze!

Put one in the microwave and nuke.
He said: "Oh my God, this is Yuke."


Steven Beesley (c) 2005-10-03



Sardine:
A sonnet that uses the redondilla form as a base. Each line has 8 syllables and the rhyme scheme may be abba cddc eeff ee or abba abba ccdd cc. It is also known as the Redondilla sonnet, the Napoleonic sonnet, or the Sonondilla. 


Details | Sonnet | |

THE FAMILY TREE Monsieur L'Vampyre

     THE FAMILY TREE  Monsieur L'Vampyre
I'd only been astir and on the move
into the night, while Paris makes its play
on lovers as they meet and make their groove
and come undone after a frantic day;

and I made weak from penning all day long
anthologizing favored kith and kin
to hand it down, a blood line deep and strong,
but adding just a bit of fiction in;

when there she smiled and made it plain to me
that God is real, and blesses those who wait
who keep the faith that love just has to be
beyond the measures metered out by fate.

    And so I set my pace as she did will
    and made my move with all my loving kill.

In little time the Seine gave off her light
and shined like all the stars that Heaven's known
she made me laugh and smile all of the night
and cherish every moment love was grown

there in the bliss we made my family tree
one more the number than had been before
and promised she, to call him after me
if I'd reveal what un-dead has is store;

so then I bited to her deepest vein
and suckling that I be, I breathed her soul
into my deepest heart, again! again!
til all we were was one, and love made whole.

And took she then my son some other place
as I prepared to never see his face.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Sonnet | |

My Dear Grandma

My dear grandma who knitted and crocheted
made intricate creations with her hands.
My dear grandma taught a girl how to pray
with a love for God and courage to stand.

I smile when I see my dear grandma's face, 
smiling back in a black and white picture.
I cry when I think of her final days
and the last time I bent down to kiss her.

My dear grandma was bold and assertive,
family matriarch and woman, faithful.
Admiration grows in my reflective
thought. For her love, I am ever grateful.

One beautiful day, in glorious light,
my dear grandma and I will reunite.

June 6, 2012 for Remembering a Lost Love Contest


Details | Sonnet | |

Father's Blood and Mother's Love

Father's Blood
and
Mother's Love
Written By: D. Collins 10/24/13
My father's blood gave me my darkened skin.
But, mother's love was that which made me who I am.
Whatever I strive to achieve can actually be mine.
I'll have to work at it harder because of father's bloodline.
But, that ain't about nothing! My mother's love is in me.
Combined with father's blood created the man you see.
I will not be hindered. See the look on my face.
And, nothing is allowed to knock me off my pace.
I have ambitions and the grit to boot.
A mix of mom and dad and fortitude.
The way I see it,they go hand-in-hand.
Blood and love creates distinguished black men.


Details | Sonnet | |

A Sonnet For My Wife On Mother's Day

When we met you were "The Talented Miss Glory"
And I laughed at your little joke.
But over the years I've come to see
The truth that your "title" spoke.

You're a teacher of kids, about...everything
Your students are so blessed.
Some kids have above average educations,
Our kids have the best.

You make everyone feel special
You always put others first
When someone's in need and you can help
You jump right in headfirst.

You rise to every challenge, I'm amazed at what you've endured.
So When it comes to things that describe you, Talented's the word.


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Jesus Christ' Parables - The Great Feast

Abuse of God's Grace / Necessity of Righteousness
MT 22:1-14
LK 14:15-24

One of his fellow guests on hearing this said to him, "Blessed is the one who will dine in the kingdom of God."

He replied to him, "A man gave a great dinner to which he invited many

When the time for the dinner came

He dispatched his servant to say to those invited

'Come, everything is now ready.'

But one by one, they all began to excuse themselves...

The servant went and reported this to his master

Then the master of the house in a rage commanded his servant

'Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in here the poor and the crippled

The blind and the lame.

' The servant reported, 'Sir, your orders have been carried out and still there is room.

' The master then ordered the servant

'Go out to the highways and hedgerows and make people come in that my home may be filled.

For, I tell you, none of those men who were invited will taste my dinner.'" (Taken from LK 14:15-18, 21-24)


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Calgon and Mom

Calgon couldn’t take me away from this
not only was Calgon on our TV
it’s what mother always told me and sis
she wasn’t happy until she was free

if Calgon wasn’t in the tub at all
me and my sister would know Ajax was
she’d be using Ajax having a ball
on the weekends she came home with a buzz

that was back in her polka dancing days
her days of soaking in Calgon gone too
I know she misses the tub on weekdays
sadly mom thinks I belong in a zoo

I don’t see my mom much now by my choice
my mother has always ignored my voice






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I Wrote Just For You

I Wrote Just For You

I wrote a song for you my precious life
four years courtship and now my wife
Your love and spirit now sweetly sings
removing the former pains and deepened stings

I wrote a poem for you my sweetest love
ten years together my little coo'ing dove
Your gentleness and ardor still inspires
the flames to leap in renewed heart's fires

I wrote a letter to be delivered some day
after life ceases , my spirit can not stay
Your treasure you so joyously gave to me
I will be waiting under Heaven's great tree

Heaven's fold holds a place for your spirit
sings a very special song for you, can you hear it

Robert J. Lindley , 07-10-2014

Dedicated to my wife, my life and all she inspires 
and does for me every second of every day..


Details | Sonnet | |

Life, A Vanishing Mist

Life, A Vanishing Mist


It is so very late in my life
 a future pain awaiting my wife
A tragedy for my very young son
 years are short, life as yet so undone

Memories are signs that say very soon
 well past a shining three quarters moon
Pondering my demise and its effect
 hoping no duties do I ever neglect

What is a decade when it flies by
 or fears of no more future skies
A man can only pray to do his best
 ask God in Heaven to do the rest

Twilight now awaits its next hardened stone
 mortal man , sacrifice of flesh and bone!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-16-2014

note:  Pondering the future for my family when
 I am no more. I write my thoughts, glimpse my fear
and draw my sword in anticipation for a great battle.
A day, a month , a decade..? 
Ten years or so , to a soul desiring another 60 is a
bitter pill. Yet swallow I must...
 Not abitchin' at all, just a ponderin'.. lol


Details | Sonnet | |

The next few moments

Jiggling keys,he gave his crown a scratch
then took another look at his watch.
"You're gorgeous, now please get out!"
for the 10th time he cried out loud.

Out she emerged, breathtaking, as always,
dropping baubles, tottering in her Jimmy's,
Smile still smeared, they left that hour,
unaware of the timed out counter.

Tyres screeched as he sped,
"take it slow honey"she requested,
when, an unexpected brightness grew larger,
until black, and then, everything grew calmer.

With excruciating pain he awakened,
looking around called, "Lauren!"
the teary faces dropped and nodded,
"We're sorry" , they whispered..

Suddenly lifted by a whiff of heat,
all he could hear was his own heart beat.
limped out, made a futile attempt to find his dear,
and crashed with thoughts of future fear.

Shutting the door behind him,
reminiscing love, life, past with grim,
clouds of  "what if" floating his self ,
whole world reduced into a tiny elf.

Moving on is most important at present,
Realizing a  reason, he may not accept,
 he still breathes, for that very reason,
And, taking care of himself will never be treason.


Details | Sonnet | |

Her Cultural Design

Feeling the thoughts that arise each passing day in life,
To be listened too, not to be chastised in given advice,
Wanting to be respected so real, not considered rife,
Affection daily, needing not much, desiring complete slice.

In love, I provide nurturing care when ailments occur.
In pain, I deliver daily chores wanting just sweet words.
In humor, I tell stories that may be enriched in a stir.
For these are feelings of my mind, not told for the birds.

I am not the only one belted in time by hormones alone.
However, my delivery of life challenges and stresses me.
I have intelligence, though many make me out, like a stone.
I have anger and strength, which I show in such deep degree.

I feel to be showed love, desire pleasantries from my other half.
I truly hate to be downtrodden, played as a joke in a laugh.


Details | Sonnet | |

SO THOUGHT OF

SO THOUGHT OF
Who could say he is not important
Even though lost in a distance
Some so keen to ask for a dance
At rest he will say I’m so thought of
That’s why she ask for a hand
If you do not brood your ego
You’ll run errands like bingo
Always does your cell rings
And always good he brings
All because you are so thought of
Wow awake by your side is your coffee
All you hear is “I love you honey”
And your kid shouting mummy, daddy
Just for you to know you’re so thought of



Details | Sonnet | |

Foreign War

I know my son was inside with their dogs
And women dressed in uniforms who held
Their sharpened knives and made my son undress.
This is the way Americans fight war.

Confusing thoughts enter my mind
Combined with anger, sadness. ****.
The Lord, is my child to die?
If it is your will, please end him.

How could the Lord let this happen?
My sweet poor boy and his humility
He is nothing but a toy to women.
This is the way Americans fight war.

My family weeps for my son.
My country prays for their own sons.

-Caroline Youngless


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Vacation Spot

Spenserian sonnet

To Trundle Beach we turn to find our fun
with fam'ly on vacation ev'ry June.
Relaxing, romping, ready for some sun,
we traipse the trails with youngsters before noon

then nestle down for babys' naptime croon.
We find the time for each of our four boys,
yet treasure time alone, a honeymoon.
It's tough adjusting to the constant noise.

When adolescents share their digi-toys
we feel our age; they show us how to text.
No way we can compete with cyber joys.
We've pondered year by year, "What can come next?"

When June has passed and gone, we beg for rest
with mixed emotions, we leave Trundle blessed.

9 - 10


Details | Sonnet | |

My Gal, Blue Bonnet, Black Hair

My Gal, Blue Bonnet, Black Hair

My gal, jet black hair and a blue bonnet
writing her a golden little sonnet
Just a few nice words to sweetly say this
to the lady that gave truest ever kiss

Give kisses, many more, forever more
I long for and do happily keep score
Hold me so tightly in the deepest night
You glowing radiance , the sunshine's light

Morning brings the pleasure of you there
lights are bouncing upon your smile and hair
Day gifts your soft touch to lift me up
time spent filling our sweetest loving cup

My gal, blue bonnet and long jet black hair
you are my ALL, knowing you truly care!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-18-2014


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My Friend The Piano

You carried my emotions from the start
Each emotion bound in the small black note
Each one coming straight from my chilly heart
The music you make is my antidote
Through the preludes my comfort softly lay
By way of mazurkas my soul does fly
But to divulge you must learn how to play
Although learning is not a piece of pie
Piano brings emotions around town
You have the power to bring my heart up
Or throw me on the floor and beat me down
There are hard times when I just want to cup
My hands in my face and rock back and forth
And think Piano is a friend of worth	


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The Foil

A weakness wound its wicked way inside
where thoughts of “us”, not love, do dwell and swell,
and formed a nest of twigs to stay the tide
yet cresting waves of righteousness rebelled.

“Stray not,” he said " for look on how I writhe."
Of fire formed made thane to only He.
Yet, man, of mud and clay did breach my pride
for Love of Thee, caste out the likes of me.

Now, Lucifer’s red flame so bright, burns night,
a warning scent to frailer souls, “Don’t fall.”
For even stars misstep, disgrace, pride’s plight,                                           
let his torment be your clarion call.

In light, act right, rise high in good spirit
and say “God, the devil made me do it.”



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LETTER TO A SORE BROTHER BEAUTIFUL SISTER DEDICATED TO MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS LOVE

LETTER TO A SORE BROTHER, BEAUTIFUL SISTER (DEDICATED TO MY BROTHER’S AND SISTER’S LOVE)
 Early jungle makes me a desire
To be alone in the belly of our dear beautiful mother
Because our growing up is such and irony
Which made me rejoiced each moment this time
That wishes were never allowed to be rose
For men of wrong mind to buy
There in my childhood irony moment
We fought as if it is created share hatred
We wish for all except one that pays a little pain
For i held back from all
As all held back from me and other all
Indeed, people taught that our life is a share pain
A sore injury to the world of love
Because i loved each moment my brother bleed from our father’s hell
I went behind the scene to celebrate my goal
kindly, the moment is always become
As i happily shun and damn the future
... who did you think you are with my future
I sometimes ignorantly murmur as a child
In my little kingdom emptiness, i rejoice in the brothers pain
A little hatred of thee, a more love of me
I love each time i am loved alone
To hate thee by my blood and cause sheepishly i became and honour
As this irony grows into something still ironic
I wish my pain could allow my pen speak plain
To cry such an awesome deep and sore blood
At each moment the rain of thee bath me thoroughly
To see thee share all to have me clothed
To borrow from the enemy to have me homed
even to lose all from the gods to make sure that i have all from the goddess
The brother even stole to have me meal
More like the blood and doing of the mother, it shared abroad
As brothers all lie to have me protected
 Much illiterate to make me the literate king
Oh bleed me death less i say this pain of love
Sisters risk of the night, the horror evil men to see a smile in this lips of mine
That i wish never remember the selfish boyhoodness
Ay! How i see my brother’s cry in his desolation
Not for him or for his little joy
But for the pain of a dear brother
To save all only to loose all to life a brother
Its pain of the ugly moment in a close death
It was determined and death paid of thee
But the brother and sister’s coming death
Woke brothers will up, sisters ghost down
I need to save my brother
Leave my life to save my brother
And take it once his breath is back
There the sacrifice of a dear brother made me desire
Never a child as this in my next world
Because you are a brother, a beautiful brother
A sister, very handsome sister that i hold dearest to my breath
And love dearest to my heart beat


Details | Sonnet | |

Study Sonnet: Aseptic and August Become Family

Auspicious August was a king of old,
who used aspersion as if it were gold.
Baron Aseptic, he declared: filthy,
and his best virtue, his asperity.

The Baroness called the king audacious,
her husband was very assiduous.
“He austerely cleansed all crime from his land,
King August could not claim something so grand.”

Though true, most ascribe her words to her end.
August assailed the Baron to defend
Pride and Respect. The Baron was astute,
killed his wife to appease the royal brute.

His atonement acceptable, the king
made him Groom in the princess’s wedding.


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A MOTHER'S LOVE

She lives her love day by day
with all that is feminine,
a touch,kiss or knowing look,
concern,red-lettered in her book;
Particular to detail
self-sacrifice a routine,
as she walks the extra mile,
ever ready with a smile;
The days news eager to hear,
her wise counsel,stills a fear
open arms brings her love near,
her warmth drys a child's tear.

Patience to give herself,time and again
soft and beautiful and feminine.


Details | Sonnet | |

Love 2K11

There's beating castles thereof much Loyal's Whence where we whom are loved linger longest, Love renders we feeling as though Royal's; Witnessed often our souls glowing strongest. Yes - love thereof all its divinity, For love is the host enchanting we all Therein our hearts - love enthroned entity Renders we feeling so giantly tall. Entitlements: Baby - Darling - Honey, Sometimes we knock - sometimes answer the door, Love more meaningful than material money; Oh - so knocks love in the form of splendor! Effortlessly how love erases our frowns; Sometimes we display our hearts as though crowns.


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Come to live with honour

You come to divide property after the death of my dad.
you 'd a fight with my mum your attitude was really bad.
you blamed me after he died I 'm only parent's loving boy,
you discriminated my birth never bought your choice of toy.
I donate happily if you come to share moments of my sad.
you 're my blood relation what was need to come with force?
why did you think, I don't support you that needs an endorse?
Noone can take property away you see dad why 're you so mad?
we were born together in a family and played in childhood,
you come to fight when others threatened me as Robin hood.
you listen your wife that's good, no need to insult mum,
if your son will treat you in the same way as it's in scum.
revise your mind and find something is wrong in your attitude,
we 'll die one day, come to live with honour no need to be rude.


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The Approach Lost

-

I see you walk towards me dismal sky above
No Caribian blue and child beside you

Yes as we speed closer no need to talk just think I followed their advice
But look at the debt they ask of us now.

You stare as you approach delivering contempt and tightened lip
I only replied to your demands and shots to my bough

Ever closer to each other embarressed in separation or proud
Can we not shop in the same shops or drink with the same crowd

Check a pocket to be cool of nerve and look for nothing only our child
She too looks at me in contempt but why then look away as programmed

A gone by moment never to be captured or re-captured, discussed or mentioned
just like a shooting star never shall you find a time so wasted so lost as this.

11-02-2012 




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In the Meadow

The Devil's Hold

Into the devils hands you placed my infant form
with blind eyes and untutored minds you left.
The caterwauls of baby rang like an eerie storm
for the eve's respite you sought was paid a high tariff.

Memory, so kind and long gone, without redress
lays in ashes buried in the wavering wash of time
But, decades of snickering comments coalesce 
making the adult children wonder at their crime.

Marred, scarred, scared and one too many times undressed
the ramming cat, the rutting dog, pointed allusions
The negligence of  youthful parents never confessed
leaves Magdalene's curse, a cost not of your choosing.

Raise the tarry brush of hell and paint their damned souls,
far too many have fell within the Devil's hold.           


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Gone Are The Youthful Days

Gone Are The Youthful Days

Gone are the youthful days of being a cat about town
beautiful young wife and family settled this man down
Yes,  memories of wild times , hell raising most nights
the many new loves, sweet makeup loving after fights

Gone are the glory days of wild songs and Rock n' Roll
living too hard, too fast was great fun that took a toll
Chasing the pretty gals and not knowing we had been caught
they set such pretty traps, "we won them" or so we thought

Gone are the many sweet things we foolhardy took for granted
we fought life, the dangerous world , with feet unsoundly planted
Each victory was a celebration of dodging shameful defeat
so many of us would rather fight, gamble and love, than eat

Now that the future has turned such to memories of the past
we must face the cold brutal truth, it all went too damn fast

  06-29-2014


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Grounded

Once a landmark, beautiful country home
Stately hundred year old oaks surrounded
Years ago productive farm was awesome
In the community family grounded

House sold for family built new dwelling
A different family then resided
But an orange red glow took home quelling
All the families joy gone with farmstead

A sadness engulfed me, for fifty years
Of memories and constantly seeing
Home in passing, now new home will premier.
Crumbled burned tin remains for time being

Life's assurance_change will happen sooner
Or later, adaptation roughly hewn

Click on "About This Poem"


Details | Sonnet | |

APPLE PIE

    APPLE PIE
The morning light, that's blinding to the sight,
breaks through the clouds into the forest deep,
and wakens life from out of darkened night,
into the dawn of one more date to keep.

While life, the puzzle, opens to the dawn,
and makes a challenge of their daily bread,
my wonder is if they're depending on
the grace of God, or on mere chance, instead.

This raises thanks from my observing heart,
that we've the fare to set our table right,
and make a feast of what is just a part
of bounty that's come from our nations might.

       And from belief that Jesus is the way,
          the light and truth that leads the U.S.A.


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These Later Years

Our early years were yes quite marvelous -

white porch swings & slow spring afternoons

when beneath your quiet eyes the first blush

of passion swelled & the low summer moon

poured its light across the sleeping grass

& then our children ran through open fields

their laughter rising drifting bird-like  past

our golden dreams in Autumn’s shimmering world -

Still – as I watch you brush your white hair

that falls like snow on rising hills – the trace

of memory – your eyes – your lips – your care

worn body – the movement of your wrist – such grace -

there is I know no season quite so fair

nor beauty found than in these later years.


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Goneril & Regan (King Lear)

Ladies of untrue filial ingratitude
I doubt if you are genuine to the crown
Your love thrown to a villain's attitude
The old king sees now that love speaks than clown
Words. For ladies who plucks respected beard
And poison for love is what thou see'st
A daughter who calls love silent is heard
But who dare throws own self to the tempest?
The tool that united you against your blood
Stained and split you against your selves
You shall never be reborn in this world
If you were, you should not be your selves
Women of ruthless heartlessness who turn
Milk of humanity to demonic buns


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From the Beginning

Since we met, 
Our hearts have been,
Through a lot,
And I have always hoped,
That you would be the one,
To capture my heart,
But times have changed,
And caused us not to be,
   The people we once were.

People chance through time,
And their true person shows,
And no matter how things turn out,
We can always be friends,
Because love never dies,
It just breaks off, 
But true foundations will last,
Throughout the years,
     And makes love last throughout the friendship.

However, I never give up on love,
Because I know it is out there,
And there is someone for me,
I just wonder who it is,
And where they are,
However, if it is meant to be,
We will be together again,
In the future,
For if you love someone and let them go,
     And they come back it's meant to be.

So, always take your time,
And never rush into things,
Because rushing into things is a disaster,
And both parties will get hurt,
Then there is hard feelings among you,
Which will cause the end all together.

Always search your heart and mind,
And know what you want before you leap,
Because if you don't,
Everyone will get hurt in the situation,
Because it is more than,
Just you and me.


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Everlasting

 ~~~

Happiness is an emotion
Of which we're not always aware
Until the love and devotion
Is suddenly no longer there

Then loneliness makes itself known
And sadness can fill up each day
But a glimmer of light is showing
As I watch young William at play

This child of my daughter's daughter
Who looks at me with David's eyes
His happy face full of laughter
The gene lives on and never dies

I'm sure that time will ease the pain
With William I will laugh again.


~~~~

Written on 18th September  2014


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Our Tommy Hester

This poem is dedictated to our beloved uncle Tommy Hester, who passed away at 1705 26th
July 2009 at the too young an age of 65.


                                              
                                                  To our Tommy Hester,

                                              a smile always on your face.

                                               Never was a man so loved,

                                                 so kind and full of grace.

                                             You will always be in our hearts,

                                         we were all brightened by your touch.

                                                   To our Tommy Hester,

                                               we'll all miss you very much.




              We all love you very much Tommy and you will be missed greatly x


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ACOA

the Adult Children of Alcoholics 
educated me a lot on my life
I have seen plenty of alcoholics
growing up with it stabs you like a knife

I once read in a book what certain traits
children of alcoholics developed
being an adjuster in life relates
seems like my life was underdeveloped

I would just go with the flow with no word
looking back on my life I know it’s true
I was never the one to wear a sword
all this because dad drank way too much brew

Dad is dead family is still coping
we have all done our own way of doping


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A Countryman's Plea

Mr. President, I want you, to live in my shoes
To do the necessary things that you must do
To work for your money, not speak friendly words
To feel the pain, from YOUR people, not Afghans or Kurds

Oh say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light?
What makes you think this reform is so right?
You have given us nothing, yet you give high demands
You have caused higher taxes, you have no helping hand

Please Mr. President, hear your citizens' plea
This message is from your country, not only from me

Copyright © Drew Johnson, 2009


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FAMILY TIES



Fate makes a date with strange decrees;
Appoints and hurls each man a path;
Moves each estate just as surely;
Indwells and swirls all living stuff;
Lines each to each as kin and kind;
Yet moulds our tribe with common needs;
Tricks us to reach for peace of mind;
Implants a pride that each might seed;
Exults the pulse of plain good choice.
Sells each a style with curious feel;
Hides wild impulse in feisty poise;
Endows odd wiles that seek to heal;
Assigns appeal in paradox:
Listens as will lives in-the-box.


Leon Enriquez
06 July 2014
Singapore


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THE RESTING

         THE RESTING
Our death of soul steals slowly through the years
the fog of mind that's never known to be;
brought on by laughter, love, and hate and tears
the fate of all no one can ever see.

It brings the withering of life, and all its leaves,
once green and shining in the morning sun,
now setting on it all, in evening grieves
for lack of interest in what life has done.

Compassion leaves the mind, once fired and prime
and old and tired now beats the heart we knew
life now mundaned by passing of all time,
there's little left the heart would like to do.

     Old one, you're numbered to your final breath.
      Your rest is not until it's done in death.


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Heredity

When I was a child, all the neighbors said, 
   “He looks exactly like his father! ”
While back at home, said all my kin
   “He looks exactly like his mother! ”
Then came the age I went to school
   Teachers commented in perfect scroll
And wrote back then, “All things considered, 
   He is, in many ways, his sister! ”
So to home I scurried and found a mirror
   To know which one was true, and what a wonder
And curious! Yet surprised I should not be
   To find my father, mother, sister, all three—

      —staring back at me.


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CLEAR VISION

CLEAR    VISION

In a distant crowd innumerable
Our friends  -  like stars  -  look rather similar.
Their very sameness seems immutable:
Bland and unused days on our calendar.

Some dimly fill the nightly ocular
With colors varied.  Small or large, although
As  dwarfs  or giants in vernacular.
Darkly  far,  stars and men but poorly glow.

But closer yet, all make a richer show:
A mother’s eyes unique,  a husband’s handgrip tight:
We need their special soft attention so  --
And life, as given by the Sun  --  our right.

Our blessings true are always close at hand.
We do not see them in some distant band.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(Spenserian sonnet in iambic pentameter)

Written by   Sydney Peck
Entered in   Debbie Guzzi ‘s  Contest  “Debbie and Cyndi's Sonneteers”


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Empowerment of a Blessed Soul

Empowerment of a Blessed Soul

Dark were days that reeked of sadness and blues
 walking on burning embers without any shoes
Suddenly true love found me lonely and waiting
 rescued from the misery of pain and hating

A soul saved to happily spread love and joy
blessing of a new wife and a little baby boy
A gift given that renewed spirit to fly high
soaring along no limit in this sweetest sky

Empowered by the strength of love's power
spreading cheer by the second, minute and hour
That light glowing in our sweet son's eyes
wife was the first gift, son was the great prize

A gift of true love that brightens and binds
blessings exist in joy and unlimited kinds

07/21/2014


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Westward HO

(Blank Verse Sonnet)

The wagons slice a trail across the plains
in search for gold or land to claim and build
abodes where independence rules supreme;
my great-grandfather leads them west for gain
all while his wife and sons work on the farm.
The trails he carves become long rails of iron
throughout a nation sworn by force of law –
that each man’s peace now lies within his hands.

Yet greed breeds theft, and swag digs ugly wounds
across the land where freedom banners wave;
while bondage of the poor and frail prevails
and brother murders brother, flushed with rage.

          A government now sets the bar too high,
          as mothers, east to west, spill bitter tears.

.


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Sonnet 1

When was it that you became different?
You were never like this before ever.
Everything you used to do; efficient.
You're so intelligent, your bonds; you sever.
I cannot believeyou changed, you're altered.
When was it that you became dofferent?
Everything you used to do; sufficient.
You've come so far, yet you have just faltered.
I do hope you see soon enough, whats happened.
For you wede blinded bg gour own selfish greed,
Your wits have been blunt and dull; less sharpened.
Since your blindness you have neve ever.been freed.
Your a sycophant, an adulator; your a grovelor.
I am just floor'd; how you've become; brownoser.


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Mother

When all alone, quiet, and lost in thought, I see again the times when I was young. I smile for attention I often sought, Knowing if I was sad then you would come. You would dry the teardrops that then would flow, Be my bedside nurse on a restless night. A soothing word and I'd forget my woe, Consoled that you were not far from my sight. Your wrath confused me when I misbehaved, Never believing I was ever wrong. But now I see love through your stormy rage. With your wise words I have grown, oh so strong. So when I think of you, Mother and friend, All regrets are over, all sorrows end.


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Dorm Room 2011

So what would you do
if you woke up one morning to
a sign on your dorm room door
saying in no uncertain terms this is for 

warning you that the reek in the halls
has exceeded the tolerance levels
our policy calls for?  C'mon y'all!
We know we accept brilliant devils

but we expect you to at least 
bat your eyelashes to the fact
that there's a pretty dang dangerous beast
out there.  We hope you can call on your tact

and moderate your in-your-faceness
enough to where it deserves its effectiveness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

actually, this is sorta a semi-sonnet, but i went with the closest could think of


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HOURGLASS

.......HOURGLASS
When all the sand's run out for yesterday
and here you stand reflecting on it all,
no matter what you do, or what you say
you'll never change the way time has to fall;

the sand's been piled onto the waiting floor,
announcing time's run out, as you can see,
all hopes and dreams now fade, to be no more,
as if the way it's piled is meant to be;

all Heaven knows you've done the best you could
to shape tomorrow as you'd want today,
but somehow things don't go just as they should
and sands of time don't always fall your way.

The best we'll ever do is turn the stand
and hope again our time goes as we've planned.
.................© ron wilson


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Minnesota Nice

The great upper mid west
Minnesota put to the test
Ten thousand lakes and streams
Reality for many who like to dream


From Itasca state park
To the Louisiaina's wooden bark
The mighty Mississippi flows
Gently down the outcrop she goes


Crime rates are always's on the rise
But really does it come as such a surprise
Everyone seems to like to hug
Except when its a mosquito bug


So many call us Minnesota Nice
But some still say were Cold as Ice




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Charlottes Sonnet

Oh to feel the heartbeat
Of a new born baby child
Nestled there against your chest
While her mother smiled

Oh there’s nothing sweeter
Than a new love in your life
Brought into this world
By a loving man and wife

Oh there’s nothing better
Than the first time that I saw
My precious little grandchild
For I’m a new grandpa

I still feel her heart a beating
From the very first time meeting

Mdailey	6/11/11

For: Francine Roberts contest – Sonnets, Sonnets Everywhere


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Classic Lullaby

Close your eyes go to sleep, listen to this lullaby.
Rest your mind; release your woes, to justify.
As you lay so warm and delighted tonight,
Secure in your thoughts, without any fright.
The hours ahead shall be quiet and serene.
Dream of gold, diamonds clear, so pristine,
Close your eyes go to sleep, rest mortal soul.
Dream a dream of how to master your goal.
Night goes quick, but you are so very calm.
Rest all your bones, a mind of little qualm.
Pray that your woes are gone and forgiven.
That no nightmares arrive, or would be riven,
Wake your eyes, mornings come, do not stultify.
Sing again what has been sung, classy lullaby.


written for
Sponsor Tracie ~*~ A solitary sonnetist 
Contest Name Lullabies... 


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My Spiritual Will

My worldly possessions, I leave to whoever is alive.
My words, I leave to who shall ever care to read.
My prayers of hope, I give for all that do survive.
My thoughts, I have shared orally to fix a need.

I shall leave this world with no blood heirs.
However, I have loved many children with heart.
I leave no challenges undone, with only a few tears.
I leave this world, without regrets from the start.

I leave my soul to those who are in need.
My remains, I renounce to natures desire.
Thoughts, I have inspired to spread as seed.
Love of the simplistic ideals to fly higher.

A belief, humanity will continue to great heights.
A prayer, there will be no more un-humane plights.


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We Can

Where, are we now, is the question at hand.
How are we to feel, upon this lifetime?
Are we to sit, now do nothing or stand?
Up against evil, as well simple crime,

This country became great, not from money.
From doing the right thing, when needed now,
American life not always sunny,
We have become, to greedy for endow.

Our wants, desires, out grew natural needs.
Things have become more important to all.
We have grown much waste, harvested no seeds.
Forgot about love, betrayed natures call.

March forward; bring back our ancestors plan.
Building country stronger, you know we can.


Written for
Sponsor Paula Swanson 
Contest Name Just poetry 


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My Pot of Gold

To my love I shall pen a treat
Sharing how I truly feel
For your heart is my retreat
Till death, love you, I will

Instantly I fell in love with you
And everything fell into place
A first glance love forever true
One I shall always hold in grace

As the years come and go
And age replaces our youth
I shall adore your very soul
Our love shall be my truth

The truth with-in this Sonnet told
Sweetheart you’re my pot of gold


P.S. Currently my wife and I are in
a struggle to keep our home. I'm
compelled to devote my time to
our current problems. I will return
to the site asap. God Bless


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BLOTTED OUT

He loved,but could not say
such words,he could not find;
He loved,but could not touch
such warmth,was just too much;
He was proud,but could not praise
such sounds he could not raise;
He supported,but not with words
such feelings,witheld unheard;
Sentiment,tight reined within
banished,unvoiced by him,
embittered by his own hurt,
a scarred child 'neath his hairshirt.

In the past,his crippled emotions lay
imprisoned,unsaid,'til his dying day.


Emotion=Inhibition


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Down In The Wet Land

On mornings as cold inside as out__burr
She knelt__held a match against fat lighterd
For she knew that this was required of her
The fire would smoke, sputter__soon blaze occured

Spreading rapidly engulfing the wood
Seemed like a miracle from where I stood
How she went on from year to  year__question
What could she have been in better situation

She would blow the spark that ignited flames
Fire would glow as did her small meager life
But from her life a blaze planted__child tame
Who would write of her hardships being wife

And how she would teach where the Sweet Shurbs grow
Down in the wet land beside the road
(How to appreciate corn bread, buttermilk, and butter cold.)


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A Record Traces Ev'ry Year

a kyrielle sonnet

Our lighthouse casts its light to guide;
a role it plays in fam'ly pride.
Through many times of gath'ring near,
a record traces ev'ry year. 

In wedding dress up Trundle's stairs,
our lens first caught it unawares.
Our fam'ly's seen through photos here,
a record traces ev'ry year.

The cam'ra toiled as fam'ly grew
preserving mem'ries we pursue.
Our albums shine like chandeliers,
a record traces ev'ry year.

Our lighthouse casts its light to guide
a record traces ev'ry year.


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Fate's Seal Never Yields

Fate's Seal Never Yields 

 
A storm so dark and so very blue
fate delivers it's first misery clue
Earth and sky rapidly melt into an urn
soon, so very soon , comes my turn


Rain that spins so out of control 
 pelts down upon newly born souls 
Awakening thoughts buried deep within 
of the mortality of we lesser men 


Short lives spent in duties often delayed 
with dreams imagined but never quite made 
Regret of the coming last dawn lingering around 
like a lonely fish that is dark water bound

Ashes heaped upon a very wearisome head
Sleeping soundly in a very badly made bed

Robert J. Lindley  11/23/1977


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2 Brothers and their Sister

THE TWO BROTHERS AND THEIR SISTER
Brother 1 - Tom
My Sister Needs Help
She's never had the chance to be in love
she thought she should reserve virginity,
and dreamed the things all girls are dreaming of
depending on support from me and thee;

she found some good in ev'ryone she met
until the night the streets took her into
another world no one would soon forget
to meet the scum of life, and what they do;

thinking her dead, after they had their fun
they left her there with life about to be,
now we are told, there's nothing to be done
if she gives birth, she'll die, most certainly.

To save a sister, whom I hold so dear
what choice is this that fills our lives with fear?


Brother 2 - Dick
My Sister's Easy
She's got her life just like it always was
but now her cryin's got our family fare
confused at best, because of what she does,
she never thinks nobody else should care!

She wears her skirts up to her--you know what
and ev'rybody knows she's just a flirt
but now she's got herself p-g, and not
about to tell the truth for that would hurt!

She's cryin rape, cause she don't know just who
made her that way, that night was so much fun
and they were all so drunk, they never knew
what they were doing until it was done.

And I bet she will never change her ways
she's easy and I bet that's how she stays.


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LEMON PIE

Lemon Pie in the Oven
And Children asking questions
That maybe I once asked,
Eating excess lemon filling
From The Bowl with a Spoon.
 
But where are the children?
Their Father, Uncle,
Neighbor, Cousin, 
I am each of them and none of them
And I bake whenever inspired

 In one world I’m a single man
Living alone with pets;
In the other, I’m a Worker,
A cook and sometimes Manager 
But always the family Baker

 But in both worlds I really like 
Lemon Pie, home made,
With a nice meringue on top
Also warm cherry, Apple,
Blue berry, Pumpkin, Orange 
I like them all
 
Lemon Pie out of the oven
Lemon Pie on the table
You are more delicious 
than a tree house -
Please stay awhile Lemon Pie!


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Who Bears Your Infancy?

What silk conducts the frail nocturnal moth?
What hand commands its drunken fabric flight?
Whose guiding threads are weaved within its cloth?
--the same maternal moon that knits the night?

Can such a lantern lead it to neglect
the sov'reignty endowed within its wings?
Can such resplendent light induce defect?
Does radiance incite its ragged rings?

If so, what poor parental sense does she,
the nightly wife of dawning's eye, display.
What mother lets her children toddle free
when faulty fathers seek to singe their way?

Why must the moth revere the mother's name,
yet turn to ash before a father's flame?


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I love me Black woman

I love me black woman 
whom God created from the sand
the black woman that I adore 
she has my eyes allure 
she's my first virgin born and pure
I bade in her wisdom, power, acceptance and I am sure
She's definitely the one 
that has given me a special son.
I love me black woman with vision
she's ahead with an incredible mission.
i love me black woman with passion 
the quality of her blossom that I cannot ignore
in my mind she has never been bored.
I love me black woman from the very top of her head toward her bottom feet.
I love me black woman all the time 
wouldn't dare trade her for a dime. 
I would have write the more ,but there wouldn't be space 
to describe how much a black woman worth.
She's the mother of all earth 
given a gift with an unbelievable birth.
Who wouldn't love a black woman 
in such case is ignant.
to abuse a black woman, I dare not 
She's my black woman beautiful within and out
she's all that I 'm bout
a black woman a red rose to be 
I can't help myself but see
that a black woman is all that
Precious, fragile and magnificently phat
I love me black woman. 


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DISTURBING SIGNS OF DECADENCE

Anywhere we look there are signs if decadence:
from teens rebellion to perversion and violence;
didn't God clearly state, " Honor your parents? "
Have His words gone unheeded as many proverbs?
Unruly children, don't be easily stirred to anger,
take time to listen and you may learn to bear:
it's not that cool talk on a dangerous street corner...
there, evil grows and gives hearts great power.
I grew up in a God-fearing home, where prayers were a must,
and kindness a required gesture to implement trust;
no tantrums were allowed when foul rage burst...
all you heard was, " Bow your head and pray to the Holy Ghost! "
Dare to ask me, if I am extremely glad to have listened and obeyed;
try to embarrass me with derisive remarks, or make me feel bad!


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WELCOME


Words I now cite to my darlings:
Explore the world one at a time;
Live well each site, may courage spring;
Choice starts fond swirl your happy chimes;
Observe and see dreams that come true;
Make plans to taste each day that comes;
Exult fond themes and greet fine cues.
Hurry and haste return odd sums;
Only echo with clear, smart voice;
More comes to seed sweet cheery paths;
Enjoy and know truth that frames choice.
Niche precious need kept sure enough;
Offer to be impact that frees;
Work your kind tact, nurture and see.


Leon Enriquez
12 July 2014
Singapore


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Dream So Sweet

Close your eyes sleep tonight
Dream so sweet, dream delight,
Let your eyes, close so tight.
Imagine joy this peaceful night.
Lay so still, have no sight.
Do not peek; sleep so right.
Close your eyes, my little one.
Sleep so tight, rest has won.
Dream, dream, dream blissfully.
Now my darling, you’re asleep.
In the morning, awake wonderfully.
Promising you, your dream to keep
Sleep, sleep, restfully my dear,
Your protector, I’ll be so sincere.


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Never forget we're sisters

I will carry you forever in my heart
From the day we met till the day we part
Thoughts of you leaving me now make me ache
I know the day the plane pulls away my heart will brake-

But I know I can’t hold you hostage 
Even though we’re sisters, 
I now must do my best to encourage; 
For I cannot expect you to live your life discouraged 

So go reach your dreams 
You spent your life making others happy to extreme 
Feel the sun on your back where it gleams
Aqua blue seawaters run like streams 

Take with you the other half of me, 
When you arrive there at the beautiful sea 


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Leave My Life

You Could never understand me even if you tried Over 10,000 times you've showed me that you never even looked beyond the glass I maybe a disgrace who wish to erase But the pain is so elaborate, all caused by you, how isn't it embraced for you? so many tears you let slip, left to die condoned I am, but only with your voice alone If you don't care to know me, leave my life If you think the dark is scary as it shows, leave my life If you've failed to keep your mind open, leave my life If you ever thought I was lesser, Leave my Life


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missing link

Missing Link.

A sickly child lie
frail on the sofa in the living room.
A knock on the door,
His mother opened.
The man who entered the child knew it was his father.
Whose child is this?
“It is your youngest son” his mother said. 
The children in the street 
all had a father; the child had waited for him.
But his father ignored him,
gave chocolate to his sister and brother,
then he drank from a bottle,
his mother threw him out.
Next day asked his mother,” are you sure he is my father?”
She slapped her son’s face and cried.


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She Was Twenty-five

There once was a child, she soon would be three.
She felt safe upon her grandfather's knee.
For when he was near, she felt his love dear.
And in his presence she never felt fear.

But he went away and worked many days.
And she stayed in a house where anger preys.
Afraid to speak and afraid to express –
She withdrew; lost smiles knew her soul's recess.

And so it was; silent tears sorrows knew
As from childhood to womanhood she grew.
Then, came the day that her grandfather died.
Happy memories of him thrived inside.

It was through his love that her “self” survived.
Until joy found her…she was twenty-five.

© Dane Smith-Johnsen
    June 30, 2010


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Bottle

I will be by your side if you need me night and day,
I will be the one that wrecks your family life, is that okay?
I will swerve and curve your emotions and cause you to crash
your car in the street,
I will make you say things that you'll soon regret and like a drum on 
your children you shall continuously beat,
I'll make you appear unattractive, and slowly cause
you to lose the ability to constructively think,
I am that cheap, 80-proof bottle of poison that you so willingly
drink,
I thought that you were a genie when I was a child because of your
ability to stay in a bottle.
And I can say or do anything that I want to you because 
I know you won't remember this tomorrow. 


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Early spring first green

Months  passed Absence He  had gone to war
Polished bronze bowled rapidly along the road
Walking  along  a  path  through  a pine  forest
Spots  of mud drips of  rain  pressing  buttons
House design  exquisite in  classic symmetry
Red  stone glow  warm contrast to a  grey  sky
Outlined  within  framework of  their silhuettes
Subtle familiar rose perfumes meet and greet  
Loving  glazed eyes warm smiles kisses hugs
Exchange of presents  wrapped  and ribboned
Tears  fell  tracking  a course down her cheeks
Dancing  muse  darling   Aunt   wonderful cook
Lamplight  struck  red highlights silken tresses
Kettle  whistled on stove  Pot of tea on the table


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World War II

I see them coming from two different worlds,
father was poor but had just finished his tour
in the Navy during WWII. So young and hansom 
his black curly hair slicked, and arm muscles 
bulging under his uniform. My mother her exotic
beauty and always dressed in expensive clothes,
carrying her books down Sunset Boulevard to 
Schwabs for autographs.
Their marriage took two minutes at City Hall
no friends or fanfare. Nine months latter it
was beginning to end in Chicago when my father,
drunk, through my grandmother across the room
and broke her arm. My father stopped drinking
that day but now a dry drunk, never did change
his attitude toward women.         -sonnet


Details | Sonnet | |

Thanks PoetrySoup Family (Kyrielle Sonnet)

Thanks my PoetrySoup family
You have shown great humility
By lifting up Epulaeryu
May God always bless each of you

Your endeavors are very strong
Sticking with you I was not wrong
Your bond of friendship is so true
May God always bless each of you

You’ve demonstrated fortitude
Like Christ feeding the multitude
With your kindness I feel brand new
May God always bless each of you

Thanks my PoetrySoup family
May God always bless each of you!

© Joseph 11/6/07
© All Rights Reserved

Dedicated to the Knights in shining armor and ladies standing up for the 
Epulaeryu poetic form, may God bless each of you always.  All of you are 
ambassadors of poetic goodwill.  Continue to lead on with your angelic host and 
my God expand your blessings.  Thank you for not asking can God, and for 
affirming God can.  Thank you always for standing up and winning the victory! 

The Kyrielle Sonnet is a French form from the Middle Ages. It has 14 lines (three 
rhyming quatrains and a non-rhyming couplet). It has a repeating line or phrase 
as a refrain in the last line of each stanza.  Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet 
has eight syllables.  There are times when a French poem links back to the 
poem’s beginning; therefore, a common practice is to combine the first line of 
the first quatrain and the refrain in each quatrain as the ending couplet for the 
poem.



Details | Sonnet | |

Romeo and Juliet

Romeo and Juliet fell in love
their families were worst of enemies
as though he fit on her hand like a glove
Romeo was hiding out in the trees
they the enemies, were star-crossed lovers
the lovers hoped to take the vows of marrige
they made love underneath the covers
they did not ride in a carrige
this happened in the fourteenth century
her mother wished for her to marry Paris
the ending of their lives' are tradgidy
they misobayed Verona's king, Escalus
this was love that could not be seen by eyes
Romeo and Juliet took their lives


Details | Sonnet | |

Children of the Sky

A day with no Sun, no Stars and no wind,
A lifetime of lifetimes is in the womb you grow.
You are the children of the sky with the seeds I sow.
You are enriched and fertile in the lands I tend.

A night with no Moon no day and no end,
A world of worlds of knowledge you all know.
You are the children of the sky and to the winds you shall blow.
In the seeds your sown is your mother and your best friend.

You are of the sky,
You are perfect today,
Boundless and high,
And you know the way.

Reach up and look to see,
The wind blowing inside of me!

® Registered: Ann Rich   2004


Details | Sonnet | |

Game Over

The game is over, you win; I willingly throw in my hand
The cards have been stacked in your favor, exactly as you planned
I know the stakes were high and maybe I folded way too fast
But I no longer want to play this game; a game I know will never last

I’ve already lost too much and more I cannot spare
So no longer deal the cards my way, the game was never fair
I’ll count my blessings early and leave this table of deceit
For a game already prejudged is a game I cannot defeat

A sore loser I’m not; I’m just tired of a game with the same outcome
Petty to most of the players; highly important to the lecherous some
I would have stayed in had the cards been properly shuffled right
Instead I saw the cheating displayed, clearly within my sight

So game over, I fully renege and completely throw in my hand 
I’m starting my own new game; one where it’s not already preplanned
Fair, consistent and honest; my game will entail all of this
Entertaining each new player; this table of love will never dismiss 

© Stacy Lynn Stiles


Details | Sonnet | |

THE SARGEANT MAJOR

I'll always remember Granpa Shreeve
At Eaton Road,where he & Gran dwelt;
A wide thick buckled trouser belt,
No collar,braces & rolledup shirt sleeve.

He kept hens at the bottom of his patch
His old soldier' straight back bent in  a stoop,
Collecting eggs from his home-made coop,
Each day letting them out to root & scratch.

Organically grown,fed as range free
A pullet killed as a Christmas treat
Plucking feathers,a now forgotten feat,
Each day,a fresh egg for breakfast or tea.

Old fashioned and a bit of a tartar
His ways made Gran into a domestic martyr.


Details | Sonnet | |

Window Pain

The soggy sky cascades its whirling woe
and dyes my view with shades of stormy mass.
Despite the rabid wind's relentless flow,
I wait for you behind this clouded glass.

My older siblings do not seem to care;
their hearts lie firmly locked in worldly lust.
Remote controls and tools for tattered hair,
they wield with skillful hands; but wait I must.

You kissed me on my brow before you left;
I still remember what you said to me:
"Take care my little one and still your breath.
I'll be back soon; just wait here patiently."

Oh hurry home; your presence keeps me sane!
I can't see past this wretched window pain!


Details | Sonnet | |

Happy Birthday Mary Duhart (Kyrielle Sonnet)

Happy Birthday Mary Duhart
Enjoy a great day from the start
Celebrate your day on the go
Upon reaching the Big Five 0

As you blow out all the candles
Raise you hands and shake your bangles
This is your day to make a show
Upon reaching the Big Five 0

Family and friends by your side
Bright smiling faces all in stride
To the heavens praises shall go
Upon reaching the Big Five 0

Happy Birthday Mary Duhart
Upon reaching the Big Five 0


© Joseph, 8/20/2007
© All Rights Reserved


The Kyrielle Sonnet has 14 lines (three rhyming quatrain and a non-rhyming 
couplet). It has a repeating line or phrase as a refrain in the last line of each 
stanza.  Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet has eight syllables.


Details | Sonnet | |

The summer of My Life

My son, my son! He will one day put up his arms And shout out, “Play!”
He’ll scribble walls, my young aesthete, bang pots and pans to his own beat.
We’ll hide and seek in show’rs of May, and learn what clouds and stars might say.
He’ll run while stumbling with his feet and singing out his laughter sweet.

I know he’ll grow with every turn. My teachings round his mind he’ll churn.
I pray the good that I’ll instill enhance his power of free will,
And when he leaves he might secern what saves his world or makes it burn.
I hope his life shall then distill some greatness, making life a thrill.

I hope my days will still allow to reach these dreams I hold somehow,
‘Cause now’s the summer of my life and I’ve no child, and lost my wife.
If Fate my dreams does disavow, my art I heighten starting now.
I’ll also try by virtue rife to win my place in afterlife.

Remembered I might never be, most humans try this commonly.
Astounding this we try, agree? To endure like minor deity.


Details | Sonnet | |

Her teeth and eyes gleamed smilingly at me

From across the street I could see a guard dog
Silence..I called it to come to me
It bounded towards me in a friendly manner.
Then clockwise + anti-clockwise it began to canter.
I whistled ,it came this dog was not lame.
A heavy chain but no tag ,this was a stray.
What breed,I thought it looked like a dingo
Let's go for a practice walk with lingo
I stopped,she stopped ,I called ,she listened,I mused.
Her friendly manner + springy step with me fused.
She was bright,quick, silent + time well spent.
Maybe she can be my guest and off we went.
For fitness,for play or for fun in the sun.
This bright,young lady will anyone outrun.







Details | Sonnet | |

I Just Want To Go Home

I just want to go home
And start my life again
Not as a grown woman
But as a child with no pain

I want to be with my family
Who will care for me tenderly
Who’ll permit me to have a voice
And allow me to just be me

I don’t want to be a grown woman
Nor the responsibilities now in place
I want to be able live my life freely
I want to go home and try to retrace

I’m clearly begging for affection
Something I’m not receiving at this time
Please allow me to come home again
My disposition is purely sublime

© Stacy Lynn Stiles


Details | Sonnet | |

Third Best

Everyone’s heard the line of being second best
My scenario is different; I’m third in this contest 
The contest of affection from our parents as we grew
Competition of siblings; conclusion too painful to pursue

The winner hands down is the youngest child residing in this roost
No responsibility for his actions, yet an approving constant boost
Baby and cherish him, for he’s the focus of this competitive scene
Always taking whatever he wants, a daily addictive routine

Second place is the oldest; the perfect child he’s portrayed
An empathetic serene individual, a respectful triumphant crusade 
By no means doing any wrongs; his mind completely in tact
A confidant rational being; always causing the most immaculate impact

Coming in last; the loser is here with problems too many to bare
The third best child, invisibly seen; always in constant despair
I love being the loser if that’s what you ultimately see in me to be 
For I know the contest was already judged, long before you recognized me 

© Stacy Lynn Stiles


Details | Sonnet | |

Child Soldier


Yesterday, I saw my buddy, he was with his daddy
On their yard, together happily playing, the rugby
While I stood near at the iron gate, I heard his father
Telling him, of his love and belief, that he should gather

My admiration goes for his father, in him, he’s laid
Brave boys, don’t cry, it is only a girlish thing, he said
I envy my friend of his time with his father, they talked
And having great time, of being together, so I walked

Out, from the scene, without disturbing their family time
While inside me, hate’s mustering, for my own has no rhyme 
Today, when I saw my friend, like dried meat, in his coffin
I thought his father have lived with conscience, for his own teen

My old buddy had an intriguing hole, on his forehead
He was only 12 years old, and now, tears for him I shed




Details | Sonnet | |

Hall of Shame

Walls filled with memories of yesteryears galore
A painted rugged picture I’d never seen before
Regretful ignorant actions portrayed on display
Of a remorseful shallow entity induced to betray

Trinkets, awards and certificates also nil to show
Of activities and achievements as you watched me grow 
Photographs are missing, no proof on hand to confirm
A struggling distraught adolescent; no conscious left to affirm 

Was I ever special to you or was I simply just another face
For my wall of space seems empty; was I that much of a disgrace?
I walked the Hall of memories in search of one positive set
But all I found was disappointment and a shameful recurring regret

So I bow my head and look down at the straps upon my heels
Never glancing upwards, humiliated by what the hall revealed
A non existent being with a past so invisibly out of sight
A disgraceful putrid portrait of bitterness and infinite contrite  

As I walk The Hall of Shame, dreadfully longing for the end
Taste of dishonor overwhelming my soul as you continue to condescend 
Then I saw a beautiful ray of light and a loving hand did then appear
Guiding me thru this empty past; my humiliations seeming to disappear

As he softly takes me by the hand and begins to take the lead
My fingertips still search the walls for any past accommodating deeds
For one swift moment I saw a glimpse of my previous glorious days
The Hall of Shame disappearing; finally recognizing my talented displays

© Stacy Lynn Stiles


Details | Sonnet | |

Failed Tomorrows

How tomorrow never seems to arrive
For the expectation remains the same
On wishful dreams our new days will then thrive
With hopes that with them will come some new flames

We persevere, working toward tomorrow
Perspiring in effort, that is in vain
We wish to cleanse our days of all sorrow
Yet, when the day comes, tomorrow’s the same

Lost upon the clouds in the sky, are dreams
As they then fall tragically to the earth
Then we mourn their death and silently scream
Cursing our parents for giving us birth

But, to dream again allows us new hope
Regardless of sorrows, we can then cope