Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Sun History Poems | Sun Poems About History

These Sun History poems are examples of Sun poems about History. These are the best examples of Sun History poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Acrostic | |

Malta


Mediterranean island, where one finds so much to do
Abundant days of sunshine and the sea is limpid blue
Lavender, thyme and laurel; history spreads in rich galore
The temples, feasts, devotion bring religion to the fore.
Acclaimed for fruit and honey and the fish that’s brought to shore.

This is a friendly nation; you’ll be welcomed by a toast
To the best of health intended to last long while she’s your host.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Contest: A poem you have not entered in a contest #5
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placed: 6th


Details | Rhyme | |

I Have Seen a New Dawn

I awoke this morning, before Dawns early light; the Sunshine still slept.
I took my coffee cup, out on the porch, and  for “Lenore” I  Finally wept.
The pain, the agony, years of grief: rolled down my cheeks: My Soul’s Relief.
A single ray of sunshine over the majestic purple mountains peak, peeks.
Out of this single ray of light, my Heartbeat; my Soul “ LENORE “ speaks.

“ My Dearest and Only Beloved ; I’m  sorry I left, upon our Everlasting Day.
I’ll sing to you My final Poem, before OUR Heavenly Father; bids Me to stay
I remember every Rhyme, YOU wrote For ME : Lets memorize each TIME.
GOD grants US togetherness : “ LENORE, Lets make this HOUR, OURS.
LENORE and I shared Memories, OUR POETRY : many of OUR HOURS

As I came back, from this Adventure, the morning Sun was smiling at ME.
Atop the Mighty Purple Mountain he had climbed ; I was not There to SEE.
With eyes now wider opened, I watch the warmth of the SUN racing at ME.
I feel the wind the warmth flies in on, Flowing through my Grey White Beard
I Smell the flowers growing; I see the mighty OAK Limbs wave; WEIRD.

I must Retrain my senses; To see, hear, feel : TO WRITE!! My FRIENDS
Relearn the Basic laws of Truth  and LIFE and LOVE and FEELING. 
Must Retrain my hands to write of The Beauty of Mother Earth! My FAMILY
I have to Study very Hard, my Contemporaries , to quicken the HEALING.
Then I can Write, to the ones I love; They teach me Everything  THE  POETS


Details | Free verse | |

His First Love

I remember the heavy round wooden tables
Built low to the ground,
Just right for kindergartners.
He would always sit close. 

I didn't notice. 

Out-of-doors on the playground was a giant oak.
He made me an acorn pipe, then taught me how.
I made lots of acorn pipes, giving them all away;
Even his. 

He stood quiet with little fists pushed deep in his pockets.
But I didn't notice. 

The sun was golden
Shining through high windows
Down on the low round table,
Particles of dust dancing merrily on the beams. 

He handed me a present,
And as the royal blue paper with tiny pin stripes 
Crossed the sun's rays
The stripes lit up like diamonds. 

Gently opening the paper,
Careful not to lose the sparkles,
I could feel the whole class watch.
I was embarrassed. 

Inside was a book about a velveteen kitten.
She was black and feminine.
She wore a pink bow,
And she was fuzzy to the touch. 

I treasured that book.
As time went by I rubbed the kitty's fur
Until she was loved slick and smooth. 

I don't remember saying thank you.
I'm sure I did.
Surely the teacher would have reminded me;
There in front of the whole class. 

Over four decades ago - yet - 
The memory of that special gift is as clear and bright
As was the sun beam that day.
And I would like you to know Jimmy Wilson; 

That I noticed. 


Note: An old kindergarten memory to share with you. Written about 22 years ago.


Details | Pantoum | |

Bronze, Silver and Gold

 
Bronze, silver and gold Caught in the sun so light The momentous reveal of every fight Wishes we are never told Caught in the sun so light Bronze faces contrite Wishes we are never told Faces much too bold Bronze faces contrite Compared to crinkled green notes Wishes we are never told Survival’s fight Compared to crinkled green notes The momentous reveal of every fight Survival’s fight Bronze, silver and gold


Details | Rhyme | |

RACHAB OF JERICHO

Deliberately inching its way toward break of day,
The morning sun begins to emblazon the barley field.
Relaxing and watching the orb find its way,
The lady of the house waits for night to yield.
Like every morning, she is seated there,
Enjoying the dew scented breeze on her veranda.
Feeling its coolness on her scalp while combing her hair,
And the warmth of the rising sun becoming grander.
Her mind wanders back to the city of her birth,
Just over the rise, beyond the barley field’s treasure,
Lies the city with the most famous name on earth,
Where, in her youth, she was a lady of pleasure.

To Rachab went all of Jericho’s possession,
By decree of God, for which Achan was stoned.
For this soldier could not control his obsession,
Though aware the city’s riches were God’s own.
With God’s grace, Rachab’s wisdom grew,
And she made the city’s outskirts her spread.
Her land into a field of grain did accrue,
A breadbasket from which hordes were fed.
Her hires were the finest laborers in the land
And were busy harvesting barley all spring.
She paid the very best wage to every man,
Cause her crop was the best early rains could bring.

The fields and glades, that gave her pasture form,
Seemed sensuous in every contour and rise.
At daybreak, contrasting tones were the norm,
Painted artfully by the brightening skies.
Mounds appeared convexly round breasts,
Lovingly sculpted over a span of human girth,
Whose beauty was able to put the heart to a test,
As the machinery of memory rotates the earth.
Babbling brooks flowed from shady nooks,
Giving refreshment to denizens of land and sky,
Producing a scene of green worthy of  picture books,
That not one skilled artist would dare deny. 

Gingerly she rose the doorway torch to quench,
Watching the shrinking darkness become shadows.
Rachab calmly returns to her veranda bench,
To observe butterflies dance above the meadows.
In her dreams, she envisions a more golden age,
When royalty would be attributed to her seed.
A zephyr flows over her mind turning the page,
But she still aspires the prospect of the throne to accede.
What a lovely story to behold just beginning to dawn,
Rising out yonder, just beyond the horizon of time.
How we yearn to see that age return, now long forgone,
So our hearts may once again be joyous and sublime.  



Details | Quatrain | |

Pitter Patter

Pitter patter, drip, drop, it’s not an April shower
Drip, drop, drip, drop raining hour after long hour
Suddenly the sun streaks through, javelins of sunlight
Then back to pitter, patter, and rain throughout the night.

In and out of doorways, trying to stay dry
Thunder crashing the Queens dead, the country seems to sigh
Edward the happy monarch will rule with fun from now on
Rain, rain, it never stops crying for the Old Queen is gone.

The sun breaks through the London grey, it sparkles on a tree leaf
Drops still dripping slowly, displaying all their grief.
Happy times are coming, skipping down the London streets
Children playing hopscotch, while the bobbies are on the beat.

A blossom opens a leaf unfurls, breathes the rain drops in
The first sup of clean water in these london streets so grim.
Pitter, patter, feel the rain - dodging in and out of doorways
Trying to keep dry in the summer rain as one does always.

The ringing of the bells, Big Ben strikes the hour
A begging hand from a pile of rags huddled in the shower.
The old queen is dead and gone, but wanders through her city
Looking left and right, she shakes her head in certain pity

Through London town she wanders where dirt and grime abound
She’s searching for she does not know - until it she has found
The thunder crashes the rain pours then drips slowly to an end
The queen is dead long live the King she prays his ways he’ll mend.

©~GG~ 2012 
Entry for Tracie's Anything goes competition This is a Poem I have just done for a Magazine about when Queen Victoria died. 


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

A Survivor's Story

I wake up to a deserted town
"Where are the people?"
I ask myself aloud.
"Gone." answers a voice.
But no one's here...
but me.

Broken glass litters the street, 
a Kristallnacht in the making.
Houses, half gone and half standing,
specked the dirt road.

I lay, pinned to the ground by a monstrous wall...
I don't know if I'll be able to move...
but I must try. 

"Hello! Anyone there?"
No reply.... just what I thought.
As distress fills my heart,
I use that anger and helpless feeling to my advantage
and somehow
I managed to lift the heavy burden off my chest.
But this was a small victory in what seemed to be WW II.

ALAS! I remember.
This is WW II....
and the US had just dropped something...
something unusual on my town...
I'm surprised I'm still alive.

The explosion was enough to kill all of my native land, 
Japan.
But it only stopped 2 miles from the heart of my country,
Tokyo.
But no time for reminiscing. 
I must find a way out of this...
hell.

A sharp pain in my chest heaves me to the ground,
I've seen this ground so many times, face to face.
Something starts to lunge itself out of my mouth.
When I look down, I notice
that it is my own blood.

I knew I must find a hospital, quick, 
but which way was which?
Was East West? Was West South? 
Was North behind me? Was South ahead?

I sulked in defeat as I trudged along a snake-like road...
a road to nowhere. 

I grew weary, hungry, tired
but I knew I must walk on.
Every few minutes, I'll drop to my knees
and cough up my life support, 
but I couldn't let that stop me.

The sun went down,
but I didn't.
The moon rose,
I kept walking.
The sun started his day-shift, 
but I was at work all night,
counting steps and listening my heart beat.

Finally, I lost the will to live,
I wanted to die, 
I waited to die...
But death didn't come.

I spit up blood every few seconds now.
Life leaving me with every breath.
I close my eyes, and draw in my last breath.

Muffled sounds reach my ears.....
I try to look but my vision's blurred.
Everything blacks out.

"I will not be defeated" 

My vision is back.... I see people...
Everything blacks out.

"I will not be defeated"

I see their faces now, splattered with dirt and dust
Everything blacks out.

"I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED!!!!!"

I CAN SEE!

"Are you with us?!"
A desperate cry reaches my ears.
And I reply, 
"Yes. Yes I am."


Details | I do not know? | |

Pleasure Is

Pleasure is.
So sweet the seasons sounds,
That makes for those summer days.
Skies make for a back drop of hues of blue,
Sweet mowing grass now sheared as hay.

Upon my face the beads of perspiration,
As I wipe my fevered brow.
The days now long as I swing forth the scythe,
High above the sun beats down.

A shout breaks my concentration,
For it is Mary who is my love.
Under a large oak tree she shelters,
Truly a pure vision from above.

For with her a wicker basket,
Its contents now lay out before.
She beckons me come forward,
Asl my senses cry out for more.

In her tender arms my head gently lies,
Beneath a canopy of green.
 Dappled sun light highlights her flowing hair,
For the world id trade, for these moments gleaned.

©N . Windle. 2009	



Details | I do not know? | |

Upon this Christmas Day

He sleeps there in a stable
The babe born to the world
Both mother, father watch with care

Though swaddled in a cloth
He is born, yet, to be king
With but just rags for Him to wear

This special morning
The sun now shines bright
From stars there in the Heavens
To the rise of morning light
The world now is much brighter
As angels, too, now play
There’s hope and happiness to share
Upon this Christmas Day

For within the early morning
Angels brought the sky a voice
Calling forth those who wish to hear

Along then, came all others
Knowing truth within their hearts
That all now have nothing to fear

This special morning
The sun now shines bright
From stars there in the Heavens
To the rise of morning light
The world now is much brighter
As angels, too, now play
There’s hope and happiness to share
Upon this Christmas Day

Go forth and tell all others
Who had no chance to hear
The news of hope and of the joy

Let them know the Gift of God
That comes to save us all
His son sent as this little boy

This special morning
The sun now shines bright
From stars there in the Heavens
To the rise of morning light
The world now is much brighter
As angels, too, now play
There’s hope and happiness to share
Upon this Christmas Day


Details | Free verse | |

Ol' Sea Snake's Carriage Ride

Ol' Sea Snake's Carriage Ride

Cobblestones wobble and rock the carriage, 
as I circle these streets with Blue Bits and 
Derby Boy on this vibrant morning.
 
With the sun on my back and  a salty gale brushing 
by, my spirits soar as I imagine what the day will bring.
 
People come from all over to tour this city, 
and soak up it's history and scenic views.
 
Why not climb aboard my carriage and take 
a brisk ride with me on this beautiful day?
 
As we trot through the historic district, I'll 
tell you some of our most scandalous folklores
and show you their shocking locations, 
like Copper Moon Ridge, where pirates once 
dressed as dames to steal their first good swig 
of America's finest moonshine.
It's still pretty darn good!
 
You'll see the towering cliff views of our granite 
lighthouse, whose menacing design has weathered 
decades of the ocean's pounding tides. 
 
We'll squeeze in time to feed the beached seals basking 
in the sun or catch a rare glimpse of  the orca whales 
playing in our bay.
 
 
If romance is your desire, I'll tool you around  in the moonlight,
to our brightest vistas that magnify the star's diamond twinkles.
 ...Perfect for capturing your lover's passion-heart.
I'll even take a long stroll, just to assure you of your privacy. 
 ...Gentleman's honor, I won't take a peek!
 
If it's fish and chips you seek, we'll head over to 
Smacky-Bud's Mackerel Shack for the tastiest fish around.
But I'll be up front with you, don't feed any to Derby n' Bits 
or it'll be a long ride back.
 
So jump aboard and take a ride with this Ol' Sea Snake,
while there's still time.
I'm not getting any younger!
 
You day-trippers spend too much of your weekly grind 
in your lackluster cars.
 
Come, sit back and unwind for a short time.
I'll sweep you back to the golden age of enchantment, 
when hearts would mysteriously merge on a slow-trotting 
carriage ride.  Memories like these could last you a lifetime!


Details | Free verse | |

Much Like the Sun.

 You look up to the sky.
 It is a normal summer day like any other.
 Sparse clouds line the sky and the sun beats down on you.
 Except this is no ordinary summer day.
 This is the day you ship out.
 You have said your good byes and cried with your lovers.
 The weight of your country rests upon your shoulders.
 It beats down on you much like the sun. 
 It burns you if you are not properly prepared,
 much like the sun.
 Much like the sun you are depended on by all that you known.
 Depended on by your country.
 Much like the sun,
 you fade away into the night appearing in a different country


Details | Pantoum | |

The Prophet's Dream

I walk on out in the evening,
When the stars all tell their stories.
This mystic land speaks of meaning,
As I ponder, their wonder speaks their glories.

When the stars all tell their stories,
My eyes open to a hidden world.
As I ponder, their wonder speaks their glories,
Of their magic and their history unfurled.

My eyes open to a hidden world,
When the planets once ruled the day.
When their magic and their history unfurled,
The secrets of history were on display.

When the planets once ruled the day,
I saw Saturn and Venus dancing with Mars.
The secrets of history were on display,
And the sun and moon controlled the stars.

I saw Saturn and Venus dancing with Mars,
But these were really the spirits of old.
Now the sun and moon controlled the stars,
When I looked deeper their stories were told.

These were really the spirits of old,
That gave birth to sons of gods.
When I looked deeper their stories were told,
That make us look like a bunch of sods.

They gave birth to sons of gods,
That reoccur in our dreams today.
They make us look like a bunch of sods,
To dream of truth is to find the way.

This place reoccurs in our dreams today,
This mystic land speaks of meaning.
To dream of truth is to find the way,
Then you’ll walk on out in the evening.


Details | Rhyme | |

Hypocrite.

There's a constant pull on me, whites call it gravity,
There's a constant pull you see it's not actually what you'll see,
It's pressing on my soul, beyond and lower in my cavity.
But my heart beats the same pace at yours , I will never be..

Able to understand the difference between you and I,
We have the same skeletal structure As Adam and Eve,
But the sun beats so heavily.. Deadly in disguise.
When will the sun vanish, he made it so he can take it is what I believe.

You see I breathe with the same lungs as yours,
Maybe a different color in shade,
The difference is the sun is hell against my pores.
Nigger engraved in my ancestors , or the shunned for learning to behave.

America is a rave, dramatic, flashy, but like the sun it kills whatever's close,
I will be a voice for any person who believes,
Lost souls killed for slander or the color of race I am your host.
You see you call me a nigger, but the whites we're dealt the same sleeve.
I guess It takes one to know one.
Hypocrite. 






I know this might get me in trouble. Im sorry.


Details | Couplet | |

Fog Reviving

Awaking to painful swollen hands, feet, and legs
Thoughts fill head of what to prepare for breakfast_some eggs?

Go to prepare me some coffee to sit on porch
Just few minutes to linger in God's love before sun scorch

Wonderful foggy morn glad I am not driving
Thick fog could cut with knife for me fog reviving

A golden sun sends beams radiating through fog
Doves coo for a long while other birds chip_no crickets_frogs

Slowly reality sets in my morn begins
Some breakfast has to be prepared life's tasks start once again

Thank you for a time on the porch of peace quiet
To jot down few thoughts before the days noise unquiet  

Something called poulter's measure
12/14 syllables per line in rhyming couplets
Inspired by Francine's contest not an entry


Details | Free verse | |

an awakening call

This poem is dedicated to 
A young lady, 23 years old raped by gang in Delhi in India and died on the 13th day of her victimization. She sacrificed her life for change.

over the centuries degrading and humiliation is women's fate.
methodology of mentality brutalized to hide evidence at any rate.
time was running same, sun rises in the west and sets in the east,
torturing mankind, killing innocents, and raping poor as serving beast.

what was a day? 
A rising sun fired anger, clouds thrown thorns, air pinched nails in hearts,
why is pain victimized me; ghosts are playing blindness and deafness of darts?
what rules; prominent justified a stylish woman inspired sex,to rape her wildly,
To open a show publicly, not to touch her;seeking justification of duties cowardly.

who can live in history?
but people still live as a woman statue is as a symbol of worship as God.
spirituality sounds inhuman methods to destroy intestine to rape with an iron rod.
no dog has bark or a beetle twinkled when a bleeded statue of God has thrown,
but a stone heart bouncing box pushed her on bed of a white crown.

who will mind her?
air stops to blow, death flooded strength and butterflies cried against shadows to glow,
but green-hoppers pulled up the barriers to secure white collar cows they run slow.
everyone listened roar of a lion; complains who disturbed his sleep,
moon is still there, stars disappeared why roaming in a field a sheep.

what do i need to do?
Birds are treeting in the jungle; fire is silent to burn a petal,
if wolves attacked on a lamb then why do they whisper against a beetle?
no need to change a statue of traditions that are serving justice from roots,
Discipline is not obeying an order no need to grow new shoots.

what is possible to do?
let them to cry for few days the tiredness will hide them under stones,
no need to change system for justice that will survive for Indian cripple bones.
lord Rama examined her wife and asked to justify her purity on a burning pile,
a woman has provocational nature we condemn her living a naked style.

what do we need to learn?
prevail a woman has cultural values; a man is worshiping God not for tradition's crash,
women is as shoe for a man; her wisdom is in ankles religion lightening golden flash.
but a victimized girl cried,' don't waste my sacrifice' save innocents to change a cruel dash.
never forgive them, punished them they are criminal and running a system for harsh.


Details | Narrative | |

Freedom before my lost brother

Freedom before my lost brother

They march before the rising sun with guns at six
We stand before sun down with signs of freedom

Who really marches to the same drum? 
When my hand have been blown off for beat
The beat, the beat, the beat

As he races from the explosion of freedom in his chest
For freedom
To escape this tide of hate
That swept us slaves of red, white and blue

And he is nothing like before when hate took him away
He is a man at six and we are still children as adult
War took my hands and feet I am no solider
I fight for freedom not money
You fight so this tide will not cross-oceans and sands

We fight here for food and light
And light, to breathe, to die for family
Across the ocean hand my son an ak-47
And he will march and kneel before God for forgiveness

Hand my brother a ruger and he will stand in the shadows for American greed
Greed in the land of freedom and hope, black in the shadows
And mother can mend wounds here across the oceans she can only dial 
Extensions..... 
Of relief
Mother over there must know how to be doctor and surgeon, and warrior for the 
Next 
Generation to survive, to live

We cannot procreate; we are the ends of mankind
With bombs in the hands of babies
To extend our left hand of hate across the ocean, across towers of hope

We must all be the same here a million mile from each other
My skin dictates that I hate, be hated, I rape, be raped
I bleed red, white and blue
Watching in shock, disbelief as red, white and blue goes up in flames in the 
Ashes of the wind just like you

Freedom can never come to me here before her with that torch 
My mother across  the ocean must be sending me a package of death to kill my 
four father
Your four father because my complexion means that no one can see me
 I am a lost brother, forgotten sister 
 Hated child with no hands, no hands in freedom

March me before television cameras, signs of peace, and words of love
I am still a lost brother............ before truth
But you knoe me so well..
From the the same box that caused my cousins in your land to be hung
Money means nothing here, Money means every thing beside her with the torch
Pass it to me so I may freedom---the truth


Details | Free verse | |

Ancient tongue of Frontier

Society's numb tongue
Underwent, undergone
The riptide pulls my feet
By hypnosis and brackish replete

Our politics paraded in the streets
We were there to please
Grounded still at the round table
Forging letters for keepsake
So families could be kept tight

Although at nude beaches, anarchists ran
Poised and laughing at the dull face
Of a monarchy solemnly rejoiced
The sand and sun were for everyone

American boys on the skull trapping frontier
Tapped the essence of mainline
Those wild, wooly inculpable fears
They rigged the order of moss and deer

So be it, we are ancient and modern
Atlantis, her watery sun beckons too
Casting mystery upon the waves
Soon to be searching our hidden Titanic 
While unearthing Catholic graves


Details | Ballad | |

BOOMERANG

Brittannia ruled the waves,they said
My old school atlas,dotted red;
Cricket its multi-national game
Pageantry & fair-play its claim to fame;
Governed by the privileged few
English,said & written its glue.
AN EMPIRE ON WHICH THE SUN NEVER SETS !

Now six decades further on
Its colonial power foever gone;
A damp offshore Atlantic island
Sinking slowly,in PC quick-sand;
Multi-cultures of its past,now abound
Each language of its Empire,here is found.
AN ISLE ON WHICH THE SUN LESS OFTEN GETS !


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

UNTURNED STONES GATHERIGN IN MY SOUL

UNTURNED STONES GATHERING IN MY SOUL 
AS I WALK BACK HOME FEELING YOUR SMILE 
AS I GLIDE TO MY DOOR I WAIT IN STRIDE 
EVER AFTER BITTEN BY THE SUN 
SINGING THE PRAISE OF MY UN BEGOTTEN
LOVE AS DEEP AS THE SOUL WOULD SEE
AS SHALLOW AS THE SUN WHERE I SEE YOU PASS BY 
CAN I FEEL YOUR WARM EMBRACE 
OF PURE SPUN SNOW AS GOLD AS THE LACE 
SPINNING KNEELING FEELING YOUR PACE 
GASPING FOR BREATHE AS I FEEL YOU SHAPE
AS I SINCE ELAPSED AS I SEE YOUR FAITH UN BEGOTTEN 
SUN GIVE ME A GLIMPSE A TRACE AWAKEN MY SOUL 
UNTURNED STONE GATHERING A TRACE
MY LOVE MY LIFE IS LAST AT GLIMPSE
UNTOLD LOVE I SEE IN YOUR FACE
EVERAFTER I GLIDE BACK TO SLEEP
DEEPENED AS I FEEL YOUR TRACE
DEEPER HOTTER I CAN FEEL YOU ON MY FACE
BREATHE SO SHORT EVER TELL ME 
MY LOVE CAN I SEE YOUR FACE 
STONE UNTURNED DEEP WITH IN MY SOUL
LOVE HAS LEFT WITHOUT A TRACE


Details | Rhyme | |

Treasure Hunt

You were here such a long time ago.
I knew you not nor did I have a clue.
I was just a silly giggly little fool.
Days passed by until the Sun set too low.
So I memorized the Stars at night watching them glow.
I’d swear I’d never have believed you much less knew.

Until, I went back into the past and chased the future ahead.
That’s when I saw the trails and the paths lain from before.
Some were laid in gold, others silver, even diamonds and lead.
The Sun struck down on them and they shined even more.
It was obvious by the color of branches in the trees that were dead.
I could taste the honeydew trickling down my lips feeling my heart of hearts.
I chased the birds and plucked a feather of a white dove just for you.
I ran along the Sea shores and the Oceans belched a many a roar.
Salt on my lips and free with the wind I knew I wanted more.
The Moons beams shined down on me so I followed the shore.

I found seashells and rocks of all kinds and saved them all.
I even cleaned them up and gave names to a few too small.
The Stars began twinkling brighter here and there.
I watched them naming a few and one I made mine.
Then I found the Mountains and how tough they fair.
I rock climbed the highest ones and drew myself a line.

I saw the snow fall and watched it melt.
I just can not tell you in words how that felt.
I ran through the fields and the prairies took my breath.
I was alive inside just feeling my best, there was no death.

The rains came pouring down watering the splendor grass.
Thunders and lighting's all came in a great big flash.
I’m alive inside and just feeling great.
Passing through time I can never be late.

On plated trails of past, present and future I am so alive.
It’s a treasure hunt of buried beauties buried deep inside.
And each vibrantly strives simply to thrive.
And each one seeks where you hide.

®Registered: Ann Rich 2006


Details | Rhyme | |

Then Night Came

The sun did rise;
Its golden pallor brightening the land,
giving heat and light to the pristine earth,
lush vegetation, rich soil, and pure sand,
our planet glowing with life at its birth,
wondrous creatures, some great and some small,
spreading across this expanse that was fair,
uncounted plant life, some short and some tall,
supplied the needs of creatures, ground, and air,
then night came.

The sun did rise; The eye that gazed saw a two-legged man,
staring grateful at this wondrous orb,
its heat and its light he did understand,
felt good on the skin, its warmth to absorb,
the tilling of crops to store for the cold,
with the sun he worked form dawn into night,
the raising of flocks to keep in the fold,
against the coming of the winter fright,
then night came.

The sun did rise;
Plumes of soot and dust rose into the air,
death's foul chemicals had no place to go,
the greedy man fought for more than his share,
to take hold of all riches was his goal, 
putting his brothers neck under his heel,
to rise up to the ultimate power,
no remorse or pity did this one feel,
to sit atop that Babelic tower,
then night came.

The sun did rise;
Decay and stench rose up upon the land,
buildings and structures crumbling into heaps,
a smoldering waste the dying wind fanned,
carrion and rats were filled with their feast,
a hazy dark cloud did cover all things,
the green that was there now turned into brown,
no longer were humans able to sing,
the earth was dying, not making a sound,
then night came.


Details | Blank verse | |

Nearly Tuesday

If  you get up early enough before the sun the stars disappear before the sky 
clouds over
It’s that magic promise time of day when the bakers and milkmen are beginning 
their  routines
Soon the empty trams will fill with sleepy eyed dockers, factory  workers, shop 
workers.
Scarves wrapped over tightly combed hair with two  ends pointing at well plucked 
eyebrows.
Or the flat round docker caps  folded to one side with the peak so carefully bent.
So far the cars are still empty coming out. That’ll change soon as the night 
workers end their
shifts. But for now it’s twirly for all that. No queues anywhere. The sparrows are 
working the
pavement and gutters scuttling feverishly for the slightest crumb. Here and there 
a house cat
carefully ignores  the occasional pedestrian and grooms sedately , dogs get out 
later.
Lights come on  in the flats over the shops as the warm beds empty and gas 
stoves heat tea kettles
The sun slides up to hide in the now solid cloud cover and the sea salt tar 
wetness of another
workday drifts across the cobbled street.