Scrap the smoldering, winsome words
the lovely odd truce made of letters
found carved with the edge of an old pocket knife
on a strap made of metal and leather
Burn off the tarnish on platinum rings
engraved with the infernal: "LOVE"
found pulling limp loyalty up to it's feet
and then giving it a death dealing shove
Trip over shoes which should still be for dancing
and spin them right into the trash
found in the corner of the cluttered dark room
like a pack rat's incurable stash
Blow open windows long stuck closed with paint
Push all the junk to the sill
Unburden your soul of it's hideous secrets
and snatch back your sacred free will...
I am up
before the sun
and I move
to the shade.
To peek out.
What has occurred
while I slumbered?
A new blanket
of snow and ice
would be nice
with rabbit tracks
across the lawn.
Had sheets of rain
on the ground
Would there be
of fog and mist
upon the new day.
Alas none of this.
the melodious sounds
of long ago
flood my ears
and fill my soul
returning as suddenly
as they left...
The birds are back.
Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell then came the ice, this went on for months.
The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.
They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves. Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday.
as they were called WEEDS ..
The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.
However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .
The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB
And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth
I stand among the reeds in the basin
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home
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
Spring has come again.
It’s time to visit good friends.
Get off of your butt.
Lay laziness aside man.
Dance and prance and make romance.
Spring has sprung again --
sunshine, flowers, waterfalls:
God’s gifts to mankind!
Oh No! Oh No! What has my son done? I hope it’s, not already to late!
He lives at a fraternity house, and surely, you know THAT intense mental state.
March has St. Patrick’s Day, Spring Break, and has, of course, Easter in it, too.
So they decided to have some great fun, yes, a fun filled month to happily ensue.
They invited a Leprechaun, the Easter Bunny, and the king of bongos, a gnome.
Apparently they convinced everyone it’d be more fun, to Simply… Stay… Home.
The whole campus flooded thru that fraternity house, in the party’s that ensued.
And they convinced the Easter Bunny to do jello shots in every color and hue.
He became known as THE BUN, yes, The One who finally, truly could fly…
And the Leprechaun danced till he dropped… to a great bongo serenade, aye.
There was no SIMPLY about this! As the music rocked the frat house, next door.
And girls were seen coming and going, at all hours, even passed out on the floor.
This was the party no one missed… even the frat house with the snobs, were there.
It’s said even some of the President’s security attended, partying there, somewhere.
Before they were done, a plan was sown, as the gnome found it’s yearly, new home.
Yes, it got there, in Washington somehow, on the top of the Real ‘White House’ Dome.
But along the way THE BUN was lost… some where along the never-ending roads.
The Leprechaun called me, our Dragons and Trolls, to help, to search the highroads.
The poor little guy was so pie eyed, when we found him along that crazy way, so…
We fixed him up, we didn’t give up, until we could send him, into that Easter Frey.
Contest: Show Me The Funny
Soy sauce drains
Into the white, clustered rice
spills . . .
Soy sauce taints
The whiteness of the grain
It slips out of my hands
No use...no point in crying out in rage
Though I was starving,
I'll just eat another thing and start on a new page
I'm hungry like a swine
I wish I can earn back my snack!
I'm as angry as a bull
I'm about ready to attack! Attack!
Soy sauce packages
Fall unto the dirty school ground
By bratty, conceited teens
They really need to eat their greens
Instead of junkfood and pizza
They should drink some water
Instead of drinking sugary drinks or
Sucking on popsicles obnoxiously
Why did the soy sauce spill? Seriously....
Pit pat pit pat
Zoom slosh and soggy felt
Runny nose, midday doze
Aching knees steaming tea
Crackling logs, evening fogs
All promises of Spring
I walked along the prairie road
and gazed upon the skies
and saw the face of early Spring
a lady in disguise
and from her lips came tiny birds
who flew into the air
while crocus, tulip, daffodil
came tumbling from her hair
she bid the sleeping sun to rise
in shades of pink and blue
then stole away through the emerald grass
thick with morning dew
Play The Radio
Get Up And Dance All Night Long
Music Heals The Soul
in steady rhythm
swollen streams overflowing
a high vibration
of bees wings
beating, a constant droning
red dresses flutter, glowing
hallelujah chorus growing
I do not know?
My Wishes are Simple
My wishes are simple,
my desires few,
to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.
My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,
to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.
My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,
my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,
healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.
Ah, the september weather is here,
the trees turn firery red and orange,
and the leaves gently fall to the surface.
Fall is here,
and the grass turns from green to yellow,
the souls of many change their ways.
From going on beaches in sun
to walking on wet streets,
with jackets on.
September weather is here,
too most it is depressing to see,
such change in the world.
But I love it.
The girlfriends and boyfriends go away,
and that makes me happy.
Then I go apple picking.
I pick red apples,
from low, hanging apple trees.
and I eat one, while walking down the trail.
Fall is here,
the time of death,
the last of sunshine.
I don't argue,
I love fall,
it is so cosy and it gives me hope.
Hope that a day will come again,
when the sun pops its head out
and the warmth returns.
September weather is the best,
when summer is gone, but not quite,
and the cool breeze sweaps through your open windowpane.
I love fall,
it gives me hope,
that with death comes life.
Effulgent sun proffers love
Above the undergrowth…of
Thorns and weeds
The moon unravels wonders
A flower petal
Blossom on a long tree branch
With a bright color
Morning spring air
Blowing kisses, soft blush
Upon my cheeks, brings natural
My frame to wake
My heart in the upbeat
With the prospect of a new day
Senses to feel
The hopes of dreams, reborn
With the new morn, chasing spirits
The mind open
To new horizons
With the fragrance of the new spring
Copyright © 03.22.11
When the snow begins to fall and its chilled outside
Our spirits begin to fade like a misty tide
It's hard to keep our head and chests up high
We want to lay in beds and do naught but cry
But we should remember what comes after the snow
The sprouting hope of the rose petals show
That happiness can be found inside a soul so cold
One that has found that it feels way too old
So smile today, and smile tomorrow
On memories of spring, we borrow
Drip, then another and another, pitter-patter,
Rain tapping at my windowpanes.
Darkness and whiteness of winter washed away.
Windows opened, breathing in sweet spring rains.
A feeling of newness blossoms deep within.
It seems it's contagious, clearly spring has sprung.
For when the rain stops, puddles do sit about.
Wet pavement sounds, slaps, steps and squish.
Squeals of delight from little patters with their rubber boots.
Puddle-jumpers, splish-splash, resonating me with joy.
Aah, life as is, with the sweet spring rains.
For Russell Sivey's contest, " Spring Showers"
Braiding tidy plaits of daffodil leaves
Once the golden flower-heads have died back
Making ready for summer color
A new season's arrival
Spread your wings, delicate butterfly
Humming birds call out for you
Flutter into lush green gardens; don’t be shy
Sample the nectar of flowers kissed by dew
You are one of the chosen few
In chrysalis you waited for spring’s rebirth
Transforming like the season
Daffodils and tulips now sprout from earth
Failure to make your debut would be treason
You were created for this reason
Carry colors on wings spread wide
Brighten the lives of all who see you
Emerge from your cocoon; in crisp air reside
Nature's love awaits ‘neath skies of satin blue
Please linger for months before bidding adieu
*Written March 29, 2014
I had the best Spring Break yet!
Spending time with
Family makes me happy!
As I rise this day,
thoughts of you go through my mind.
I thank you for another day,
I pray I can do things your way.
The winter is in full bloom Lord,
the chill in the air today is cutting
through the trees,
The branches are crisp and the sky is cloudy,
I pray the day is warmed by your touch,
Lord,I love you so much.
The day is beginning now,
help me to live a life today
that glorifys thy name.
Written by:©Betty Bolden
A life of beauty and happiness denied, of innocence
smothered like a flame, I have always lived; but when
I hear your lovely voice, my Lisa--
now I am free.
I was dead before I even entered into this world, a
place cruel and without feeling, cruel and without
the love and understanding I finally know in the rich
harmonies of your voice, my Lisa--
which sets me free.
Before I could even hope to bloom like a sensual
flower caught breathless and naked in the first, rainy
sunbeams of spring a great evil--the threatening,
inner hostility of a dark figure overflowing with
bigotry--transformed me into a joyless
waste of ashes.
From that terrible moment on I fought all the ugly
and horrible assaults as his unwilling possession, a
gladiator in the arena of his constant abuse and
myriad threats, subject to his occasional hostile
across the dinner table.
But when I hear your voice and imagine its tender-
ness and compassion as an unearned gift meant for
me despite him and my child-like self-loathing:
I feel the love and self-worth denied me, taken from
me simply because it was too easy to not rape from
a child whose only fault was that he was born
O Lisa! Because of the music of your lovely voice--
now I am free! Free from my years as a gladiator in
the arena of his constant abuse and attacks;
free to bloom like a sensual flower caught breathless
and naked in the first, rainy sunbeams
of Spring again!
Present turmoil belies a shift
In the soul of humanity
While hard we toil, the greatest gift
Is bestowed for posterity
A blessing so long awaited.
Those who are thirsty for its wine
Become the first recipients
Those who accept lies, satisfied
With half truths, will be defiant
Meanwhile the air of spring rises.
By CarolineCecile - 01/25/12
Winter blues are passing, making a place
for the healing Spring showers
the softness of their touch
soothes away the deep grooves of weariness.
The pleasures that spring showers bring
mending not just our needs also the needs of nature.
The tender green shoots of the spring flowers
nosing their way out of the soil, to feel enriched
by the sprinkling softness of a shower.
Animals also enjoy the warm shower,
using their tails as back brushes.
Watching all of these things bring
peace and happiness to me.
To walk in the rain along a sandy beach laughing
at the antics of the birds,
spreading their plumage like a ladies fan.
Best of all Spring showers means hope -
washing away the winter gloom
So I lift my face to the rain,
to look to a renewed hope, to Spring.
Penned on March 26 2013
Contest of Russell Sivey
The night air is cool and collective,
Running through my hair and face.
Even when I’m with people, I feel alone
In this cold blooded space.
It’s like walking through a garden
Of all your favorite foods,
But none of which can substantiate
For that one so special mood…
that beautiful frame of mind.
I only go there with you,
And only you can make it unwind.
I discovered a passion unlike any other
And in my finding I opened a world,
A world I did not know existed.
I’m on cloud nine every time I think of you,
Just the thought of you brings joy to my heart.
This garden holds many beautiful things
Many delightful pleasures,
Many cold nights,
Ecstatic times and unsystematic times!
But they mean nothing to me,
While I’m alone…
Walk with me through this garden.
A silent wave rushing inside my heart
Your hand leading me so far we won't depart
Your voice I heard in away that's taking me far
Into a silent wave rushing inside my heart.
Oh the thrill it was to hear
your voice so silent as I opened up to you
so wonderful this silent wave rushing inside my heart
I was searching for a answer to a question for so long
there it was a silent wave rushing inside my heart
Your voice Lord, in ways I never found
a silent whisper so very loud
inside my heart the silent wave replied
to me your love is so divine..
So when the shattered dreams are filling your mind
please please listen to the silent wave rushing inside your heart.
Written by:©Betty Bolden
I spy, a feather beauty bright
With speckled blush on breast
Basking within the thicket light
Dancing round about her tiny branch
Your fluttering sight beholding
Within the snowy briar
Bathing among the warmth
Of the morning's golden glory
Its brilliance your own crown of halo
Like a sunburst that swallows
Up the end of February's sigh
As other feathers flusters zoom right by
The ginger little fellows all dappled, scramble
A merry-go-round within a flight
Threading joyous song throughout your bramble
As further flocks of scurry, hurry fly
On parade teasing wings of faerie sprites
A musical path of crisscross kites
But, you little one are the daring, bursting forth
With higher operatic songs, to startle and scold those spry
Feather beauty bravely
Upon your perch chest thrust out boldly
Nonsense rhymes and a new found might
Chase away the imps of finch and thrush
And keep yourself the sunbeams for its light
And bask yourself once more this time
Among the drops of melting dripping snow
And gather up all tis full
Feasting here, where the wild wild berries grow
But, in the end you are their kin
And soon, my fairy feathered friend you too must go
Out, onto twittering leafy stemmy stem and off...
Into the yonder of the coming spring to rove