Fear not the fierce wind, o gentle heart
Though it may rattle the eaves
And give no ear to its whispers with nothing to impart
But shallow promises that hang, like dried, parched leaves
Listen to its mournful wails on the way to some distant shore
Leaving in its trail, the harsh rawness of a chill
And envy not; give pity instead and be sure to keep no scores
For the warmth of a gentle heart is by far, richer still
For who can fathom the baleful howls invading valleys below;
Billowing across the fragile earth and her boundless seas?
Is it in anguish that it protests; who can really know?
Or is it a mere expression of a mighty power that seethes?
Yet, judge not, o gentle heart, but like a blade of grass amidst a storm
Lay calmly into the wind; rely not upon your strength to stay strong
When crisp Anemoi swerve in my mind
and gently rouse, oh ‘pon the fair moonlight,
I raise my cheeks to taste the dew, refined
through quivers of the ever- threading night.
And copper-like, my senses, mildly clothed
with fibrils circling traces on warm flesh;
this zephyr cool, guiding south’s haze evoked
by luster held by Euros rain, afresh.
And dusk will print windchimes' echo 'fore dawn
while starlit harbingers will bid me still.
My breath will feed the hours with time reborn
as tender wafts on misty fleet claim goodwill.
That I, a child of air, shall testify
as witness to rare music of billows’ sigh.
Shadow Hamilton's Gods Of Winds Contest
* Anemoi-- Gods of four directional winds
* Notos--God of south winds ushering summer and rain
Sad boy, could anyone mend what's broken,
And dry your salty tears, but with a hand?
Is there anything we haven't spoken,
Is there anything we don't understand?
We have taken the rope, but not the pain,
I hope you know that we wish that we could.
We'll be here for you, through sunshine, and rain;
And if we knew how to help you, we would.
I know that you're angry with all involved,
And especially those close to your heart.
But surely, some day, all will be solved,
And you will thank them for playing their part.
So please read this poem, with thought and care,
Remember that we will always be there.
~ For D (you know who you are)
Happy birthday to you Jenny
Hope your big day brings you plenty
Keep a bright smile all the way
Your mom sings your praises today
Soon you will be driving to school
Don’t forget to follow the rules
Enjoy your day with a buffet
Your mom sings your praises today
Happy birthday to you Jenny
Don’t forget to save your pennies
Wish on a star on your great day
Your mom sings your praises today
Happy birthday to you Jenny
Your mom sings your praises today
© Joseph, 8/20/2007
© All Rights Reserved
This is for the the daughter of our own poetess, Kathy.
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
Each new day elucidates the night
bringing shadows, allusions, forth to clear
the angst of shattered memory and fright,
opening eyes once shut with nighttime fear.
Each new day illuminates the mind
brushing aside the cobwebs caused by age,
sending feelers out to search and align
with an expanding universal stage.
Each new day testifies to the endlessness
of life within the spin and weave of time;
the immortal Eye extrudes largesse
reel in each floral scent, each kiss, sublime.
All praise the majesty, the all seeing Eye
which returns to us a new day at sunrise.
NIGHTINGALE'S SOUL LIGHTS
Plain spotless uniform so pure and white
Modest neat gear rendering tender loving fight
Day, night 'till wee hours, eyes a must wide awake
Extending a hand, shaking off all aches
Tiptoeing like a sly in and out of rooms
Dim ~ quiet same as white garden tombs
Grace under pressure upon first newborn's cry
Wiping tears from a gentle old man's dying eye
Evenings so dark and mornings so bright
Everyday a nurse sees life kaleidoscope lights
Despite some voice rudeness to foul remarks
Kindness,her soul's sweet perfume, larks
A nurse appears unfeeling firm when mankind bleeds
Within her are hidden soft golden beauty deeds
July 06, 2014
Awake, he felt asleep and struggled, for
it seemed upon his back there had been flung
a mantle of fatigue he drably wore,
and like a hag accursed, to him it clung.
His children, sad to see his heavy pace,
then fixed him up with Clara, widowed too.
He floundered when he saw her sweet bright face
and gazed into her eyes of crystal blue.
Immersed in Clara's radiance, he dined
and listening to her laugh, became entranced.
His burden cloak unraveled as she twined
her arms around his shoulders while they danced.
An ardent kiss. . . and then was gone that coat.
For with a jolt, he saw that he could float!
For Deb Guzzi's "Celebrate the Light" Poetry Contest
Uplifting morn by the lake
As I sit here beside Lake Joondalup
With silent morn as yet not woken up
Green parrots sing from gnarled old wetland trees
As leaves they dance and whirl on the morning breeze.
A tiger snake he comes, a swimming by
As gulls they screech and fly into the sky
Two kangaroos, so big, and strong, and grey
They seem so happy on this perfect day
The air is filled with so much mystery
I sit and watch filled with serenity
As the sun peeps through the clouds there in the sky
From its orange hue, I hear a raven cry.
As Morning silence Fill’s my very soul
The dawn, arrives and make’s me feel so whole.
30 June 2014 @ 1432hrs.
For Elly's Sonnet contest.
Water falls in drops of liquid pearl
Landing on my head first
Then down my nose and my shoulders
Dripping down my members.
In thirst I lift my head up to drink
The water descends cleansing
Taking in its flow all the toxins
And leaves a revived sense of being.
The words You softly whisper in my mind
Are like water of the purest kind
They take away my fears at night
And make me feel so alive.
For Your love is like a spring of life
That ever flows from on high.
Copyright Nov. 2011
The night emits a citronella scent
From tiki torches topped with living flame;
I swim in circles -- softly speak your name --
While starlight washes over us, content.
Cicadas still sing secrets to the trees
Like Summer's heartbeat throbbing in the dark --
While on a new adventure we embark,
Sped onward by a silent, gentle breeze.
Your kisses ripple slowly down my spine --
Your touch is strong and steady, like the tide --
Warm bodies wrapped in motion dip and glide --
You turn the turbid sea to fragrant wine.
The rising moon gives witness to my cries;
Tonight I drown within your ocean eyes.
Abused and mauled by filthy loveless hands,
Devoured by baseness, wickedness and shame,
A victim, slave to selfish fools’ demands,
With freedom kept on paranoid restrain.
The mannish-child has crushed the sweetest rose,
And, cheerful, tears off butterfly’s soft wings,
Intent on turning beauty’s joys to woes,
He’s threatened, terrified of purer things.
Courageous, strong, her soul has overcome,
This unclean, cowardly, and hate-filled world,
‘Though bruised and battered, bleeding, coldly numb,
Her shy and tender petals have uncurled.
She spreads her lovely wings and takes to flight,
Abandons shadows, makes for heaven’s light.
for Deb's and Cyndi's sonnet contest
From his mama's own mouth, this story came
Her travail to carry him, a long trail
Of tears, loneliness, suffering and shame
A hunger for which hope made no avail
And then the hemorrhaging, her vital blood
Like common mud, tearing his world apart
Your life and her life in that tragic flood
The sudden silence of his beating heart
Sirens, Hospital, still he died, once, twice
The doctors testified, for they helpless stood
Perplexed, frustrated with every device
God alone that day turned evil to good ...
Made his purpose seen in life's providence
Restored hope by frail wisp of evidence.
A pimple of flesh, great folds of white sheet
The child like raisin in its crumpled spot
Seemed more alien than a baby sweet
With shriveled skin, and head a global pot
O the tense days, miserable and lone
The furtive prayers of a mother's heart
"As bad as can be, Lord, make him my own,"
The nervous scanning of the daily chart.
The little blimp became a form, a frame
A sense of gladness, a kindle of dream
A moon's memory that gave spring a name
A fresher hope from lost of true esteem.
She called him "David," went to work again
Lifting the load of pain, bearing the stain.
And there in that dark environment he
Like stubborn cactus in dry sand made root
Sucking up the elements, the salt sea
And violence, the meaningless of truth
War and poverty needs no moral code
Survival survival was a luxury for him.
Harsh, and cruel is desire where abode
Drought an, d scarcity, their horizon dim.
We burn trees for coal, cannot make storm
Wealth provides small control, the poor has none
No shelter from life's threats nor men's harm
Nothing is secure, no, not with a gun.
But jackals make them, the frightened keep them
Like buzzards over our sweet Bethlehem.
O David, you should have left that day. You
Should have held your rudder firm 'gainst that breeze
But too little strength was left in sinew,
To heavy the armor that bowed your knees
And deaf the heart that heard the voice before
And answered at eleven. Hope endures
Through even darken deserts, light has a door
To love no human sad ever ignores.
God saved your life twice on the day of birth
And did three more times when you turned your back
To sealed your purpose in your spell on earth.
From the brink of hell, God's love brings you back
To be his Paul, his missionary bright
His little tiger flaming through the night.
Sea horizon in the distance ...a clean line.... a quiet shore
Every day the ocean washes up something new on its sandy floor...
Today, the sea formed haystacks of seaweed piled quiet high
Yesterday sea sponges and fan-shells lapped the crunchy sands
Gentle humming of soft ocean sounds humms by to and fro
Seagulls squawking , flying in unison form a V- like kite formation
Their pale eyes widen as red feet and beaks hover and flutter
Two yellow labradors swimming and weaving from shore to ocean
Bounding gracefully into the water , chasing and jumping in unison
Tirelessly,effortlessly running along their beloved ocean shore.
Young dogs greet each other in an excitedly ,friendly fashion.
Horses hoof prints embedded gracefully in the shoreline sand....
Broken glass edges made smooth with the sands abrasion
Oh wonderful mobile reflecting the sunlights warm sensations!
Energy drains, pain filled, cold. (Release it!)
Why must you let it pull you down so far?
Just inhale deep, and let it all expel
Look to heavens sky, wish on a star
Memories, they are not what defines you
Past should eternal, reside in the past
Leave it there, and just continue to rise
While your spirit grows, you will fly so fast!
Soar the sky, with your mended wings
Embrace whom you've become inside
Drifting off, like crashing waves to the sea
Rememberance of all the times you've cried
Become anew, and your soul thus renew
View yourself, then, as those that love you do!
Walking down the hallway,
Seeing all the doorways,
And all the choices in life,
Making it difficult to choose,
The right room from all the other rooms,
Bringing you the wisdom and truth,
For the imperfection is within us all,
Which makes us all crawl at times,
On our hands and knees in the dark,
To discover what is right and survive,
In life as long as we can accept,
What life brings to us in our hearts,
Which we patiently accept the pleasures,
And push away the sacrifices much in our lives,
Yet, to correct our flaws we have,
Which causes most our struggles,
Till we open our eyes,
And see what we have and must believe,
That our lives are greater than we ever know,
Cause God created it all for us,
But the choices are ours to make,
To find the happiness,
Which is ours to be found and kept.
O for the skills to calm a flighty horse.
Compact its trombone limbs with reins and legs.
Exact perfection without noticeable force,
all trouble and delight that beauty begs.
One horse, one rider, indivisible;
sky-born with earth-bound duty to endorse.
Control from legs and seat must be invisible,
obeying smooth transitions on the course.
Struck by awe, crowds watch, as in a trance
a pleasure trip controlled by aids precise.
Such liveliness contained in equine dance,
by what divine device - this Paradise?
Each discipline involved must scarce be seen.
Before our eyes must seem a floating dream.
SUNDAY DINNER (Hillbilly sonnet)
Ma's cookin now, so come and set a spell
and you can bet we'll have her Sunday best
before the settin sun, and who can tell
what's on her stove--but it will meet the test.
Can't you just smell that fryin chicken now?
And you must know the gravie's fresh and hot
for pourin on them taters--I allow
a little more than I should have--so what?!?
The butter it just melts on bread so light
to compliment the vegetables we grow,
now if you know a life that's half as right
as this, you'd better make it yours to know.
And I will say the grace, to thank God for
what He has give--so He will give us more.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Semovedly thine voice shall have no echo to hear.
Inly there be only hollowness to see no distant.
Natheless hardy wind, thou shall be inconsistent.
Gradual flow upon thee, wilts bring many a tear.
Wellaway can be withered upwards into cheer.
Iwis my heart and thou will bloom constant.
Thole stint without thee voice, time is non-existent.
Hark thy sweet melody showers over my fear.
Courage of mine shall champion forthcoming tune.
Heavenly fairies shall dance for both our souls.
I shall cherish and marry in month of June.
My love will grant me all musical controls.
Erelong our passion will bloom as we swoon.
Singing with chimes enriches our passionate goals.
It’s not about the
It’s about the journey
It’s about who we become
It’s about who we are
The path is too long
The road too narrow
Why me, why my life and loves
Why my marriage, my family
I really don’t understand
It’s not about the
It’s about the journey
Who we become through
While waiting for them
While waiting to be delivered
Who are we then?
It’s not about the
It’s about the journey
It’s about us
Where were you when my world fell apart?
The Sun darkened and the Moon just fled.
All had been done and all had been said.
And ripped to shreds was my beating heart.
Even the Seas began to part.
And the Mountain tops spread.
I lay there completely dead.
Even the Stars I could not chart.
If only you knew,
If only you were there,
If only you had a clue!
If only life had been fair!
I’d turn the clocks back,
Still standing dead in my track!
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"
I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!
I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!
He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!
"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
and then I vowed to get us in the game!
I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!
"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!
Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
while I choked up--and readied for a hit!
All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"
The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!
I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!
The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!
The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!
The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!
The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"
Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
and on his heels--I made my promise good!
We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!
The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!
I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me!
Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Through the glaze from first of morning,
When Aurora spreads her brocade
Her tassels weave through sunlight’s ring
Shimmering on rows of grassy blade.
And midstream, the ponds decorate
A shore dotted with tulips red
In vivid inlays, quite ornate
While dawn’s charm explodes, overhead.
Painted by some godly delight
A daybreak’s grandeur shines aloft
That I, a keeper of the night
Lay wide- awake on prairies soft.
Beholden by sun's harmony
The wisp of heaven breathes in me.
Anonymous Positive Sonnet Contest
Sponsor: Elly Waterouse: dated 7/12/2014
Set me free Lord set me free,
Take this evil I lay with away.
Take this torture turn it astray.
Walk with me just let me be.
Look inside my heart to see,
Erase my mind as I do pray.
Renew my spirit all in a day.
Sign me up for a high decree.
Leave all this as dust in the wind,
Scatter past present and future,
I will not falter nor will I bend,
Send it all away with no suture.
Set me free Lord, take this madness and put it in its place.
I must warn you it wears a mask to cover up its ugly face.
(R) Registered: 2013 Ann Rich
SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL & UPLIFTING – PRAISE, WORSHIP, & PRAYER
There is no reason to be down and out.
The sun still shines in the sky when raindrops.
Smile now because this is your time to pop.
We really want to hear your thoughts about…
Life love joy rapture pleasure thrills bliss blessed
There is cause to be irrefutable.
You know the heights of life uplift others.
Happiness esteems and solidifies.
Each time you strive, you find that the world thrives.
Uplift life elevate mind and inspire…
There is purpose to take on; therefore,
Give heart to another and cheer to the
dishearten. Raise spirits to encourage
deification of our creator through praise.
Mother Earth is our celestial orbit.
Peace seekers we are in spirit and truth.
Love and harmony is for all dwellers.
Let us join on native topography.
Hold hands sing from the voice of the patriot
Scale the endless strife of diversity
To meander in our conflicting journeys
So that our life is a religious nub,
Which brings forth faith in the omnipotent.
The crux of our essence edifies soul.
Elucidation is magnetic force
Mesmerizing all the people involved.
We shout in our synagogues worship
Via life force, which is cognizance.
Oration heard from the heights of trouble.
Just a closer walk with God was words voiced.
A proclamation so great, tears came forth.
I know the Lord exclaimed the choir from the
balcony while others were praying in
the aisles. Oh Lord have mercy on me.
There was no doubt that salvation was there.
The expression was that the Holy Ghost
had entered. Utterance of faith is with
all. An enduring completed through the
works of God. How were the burdens taken
to a place of repost? The Lord keeps me
safe and warm. Through veneration and
extol, prayer; praise; and worship heartens all.
PENNED JUNE 28, 2014!
Written for a those who seek a greater determination....
Letting my soul grant me peace
And feel secure without strife
My restless murmurings ease
Away from the storms of life
Within a place that’s secure
When the thunder rolls above
A heaven that’s safe and sure
Forever with hope and love
With guidance that is divine
And there is beauty abound
It’s a blessing from the vine
Where happiness can be found
Inspired to do bigger things
I’m thankful what each day brings
Ameri-Sonnet as described by the creator Richard W. Jenkins
14-lines in seven syllables each,
with a rhyme-scheme as follows:abab, cdcd, efef, gg
Dangling from the tree I can see,
Broken wind chimes that still sing.
They just hang on by a split string.
Sending a harmony of tunes to thee.
Their tones and vibrations are a bit broken for me.
I listen and I ponder for what tunes they can bring.
From the tree they will sway when they can swing.
Bits and pieces are released through the air and flee.
Caught in the wind is it’s vibrations.
Carrying signals of great magnitude.
Funneling clouds into new creations.
Bringing air into a brand new mood.
Broken wind chimes can still sing a song,
But their messages are scattered all along.
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2007
< 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.
Simple to say I love you,
Hard to see in my sense.
Light or dark a past tense.
Sealed lips not one clue.
Collection cups are now due.
Penny's built my picket fence,
Many minds faceted or dense.
And each one I did surely spew.
I do stand here,
A bunch of mess.
You are over there,
Plenty that guess.
My hand is out and my head is down,
In my heart I hold your golden crown.
(C) Copyright: 2013 Ann Rich R.A.
When I was innocent I dreamt of love,
a kind of love most worthy of virgins--
for whom a simple kiss admits no sins
or shame, or betrays the appearance of
disgrace; But I, blessed not as from above
by heaven or by God, quit, as life wins;
losing all hope and faith till my head spins
with the winds of lust that blew the white dove
of my innocence away. Then a whore
and slut took away my virginity;
she then revealed that there were fifty more
besides me, I recall most bitterly.
But so long as there is breath and hope lives,
love will come; and when it comes, it forgives.
If it wasn't for finding you,
beauty wouldn't mean much to me.
For although it was hard to do,
it was you that taught me to see.
You made life less overbearing,
healing pain of my broken heart.
And because your soul’s so caring,
you rewound time and pressed restart.
The strength and power of your love,
gave me what I needed to cope.
For like an angel from above,
you supplied my spirit with hope.
You took me to your private place
and I saw the love in your face.