A PLACE IN THE SUN
A place in the sun, it's there I want to run. . .
Orange and yellow palette brush my face,
they dry my wells of fears and so I won,
I-- slowly flower from God's skirt of grace.
Unfailing is His love shown sweet to His face,
I eagerly crave to behold in million tons
as to entwine in His warmth: My Master race.
A place in the sun, it's there I want to run. . .
Rainbow peeping after some raging storm spun;
His reminder that we: His people must chase
infant days to grow better with our love ones.
Orange and yellow palette brush my face
for God so kind. My pains, He soothes and erase.
Tender are His words as I read them one by one
helping me be fearless yet humble with my pace.
They dry my wells of fears and so I won--
then my heart soar high, I have some fun.
Evil always haunts but with Him, all I can evade,
hence, troubles are little but close to none.
I slowly flower from God's skirt of grace. . .
God crashes darkness with love not by gun.
Must we go elsewhere when He is the best hiding place?
God is everything before even life began
God our undefeatable fortress-- His base
a place in the sun.
Sponsor Gail Angel Doyle
Contest Name A Place In The Sun
10:20 pm. January 12, 2015
Walking by the river.
It was that kind of day
With the Spring Sun soft and warm
There was a kind of energy
That moved within my form
I could have walked the whole day long
As I felt me, natures pull
Oh Lord those river trails are beautiful.
I passed a group of roos
Who were grazing by the river
Some Parrots screeched above my head
And set my heart a quiver
And as those creatures gave their calls
A Kookaburra laughed
Oh how I love to walk that river path.
It was that kind of day
That you’d like to last for years
With the country air rich in my lungs
And my mind all calm and clear
I could have walked until I dropped
Along that river trail
Feeling good and living in the now.
16 September 2004
My Son Moon and Star ~
Approaching the celebration of his Birth
cherishing the gift I received
within weeks of conception I knew
something amazing was in Creation ~
the Stars held a party
sending me with one of their own
Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky
It was magic It was destiny taking its flight.
In love with an October full moon
drawing and painting I liked
thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
caught in a loss of time
Hours going by as choosing my color
a wittness to three falling stars
A clear night sky sparkle's
A once Famous Star was sent
inspiring the tiny child inside ~
Never a doubt in my mind at all
child bearing was worth any pain received
yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
one to cherish and hold
My Son was born the following August ~
working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year
as the set of Leverage for 3 years .
Has done a Indie movie here
In Paris it was seen and honored
coming soon filmed in Portland ~
"The House of Last Things "
awaiting the credits , you will see
1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant
My Young Lion Mans dream ~
A proud mom I watch every show and the credits
as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
My Son & Moon and Star
A name you will all know ~
Happy Birthday to my creative Son
you will exist in my heart forever~
Clear eyes stargaze on sun-kissed days ~ Barley autumn, bosoms ablaze.
Warm breeze brush bathing heavens, rainbow hues fusing chase and tease
Whispers ~ touch spirit lips, rising heat cocoons blushing nymph.
Kites sky flight tickling blue clouds, surfing glides breathtaking stunts.
Nonstop beats, hormones flush, spiraling awesome thrilling release!
Old boy, ebbing energy, please bounce back accompany me...
Birds playing sweet symphonic tune, cunning beau shows sultry actions.
Running torrid wild lustful tokens caress peaks fast and vast
Tonic willpower, how will I have golden sunbeams hopes?
Heart, listen, you fire in rush ~ don't you hurry, stay low and calm.
As torments waves each passing year, eases control for you and me.
Oh, if I took your lead, heart, I would hate many men now.
(c) Olive Eloisa
June 09, 2014
CONTEST: SIJO STRINGS
SPONSOR: DEBBIE GUZZI
Placed 1st.. :) to God be the glory.. :D
There’s an aching in my back
An my knees are buckling in
My body’s hurt n bruised
friends r’ say ‘n take a step back ‘n relax
got so much on my mind
faster and faster I here myself say
I cant give up when I’m half way through
pure determination drives me hard and true
Never giving up
I can see it now the sun is shine ‘n on me
Never giving up
I’m almost there the inspiration I need
The devil can try to slow me down
Putting all those boundaries road blocks round
But without a flinch in my face
I’ll jump up move and around
My destiny is calling to me
Got lots to accomplish no time to tire
There’s a sunrise coming up in my face
My dreams are right there I’m following through
(Hook x 2)
Never giving up
been a long time but the sun is shine ‘n on me
Never giving up
I never looked back now I see inspiration in front of me
Sun of Earth
God’s Sun of Earth, you've caught us in your gravity,
Like tethered on a string, we’re pulled around your glow,
Your light and energy support all living things—
You are the center of our Galaxy, we know.
Our Sun, God’s beacon shinning down on us each day
Embraces us in warmth and knowledge that His gift
Holds answer to the way our Galaxy exists
With Sun, the center of all life, in space adrift.
We look for you at break of dawn each brand new morn
And feel the surge of hope you bring for our new start;
Your brilliant rays above the clouds take breath away…
We feel the reign of God behind your beating heart.
At sunset in the soothing glow of earthly dusk,
We feel the calmness that flows through our quiet soul…
Our God of glory reigns within your dimming light
To grant the peace of night and wake refreshed and whole.
Oh Sun of Earth, you've caught us in your gravity,
But hand of God created life for us through you…
The miracles of life sustained by Sun’s great force
Were planned and shaped by our Creator’s imaged view.
© Sandra M. Haight 2015
All Rights Reserved
Contest: Show But Don’t Tell
Sponsor: Thomas Martin
It's a November
when I find myself walking
My hand holding yours
Side by side arms swaying
Your little fingers interlocking with mine.
I believe it is a happy day.
I think it shows on your little sun-tanned face.
I feel it myself from deep within.
Slowly welling up like a spring of water
From a dry ground, long athirst.
I see the sun walking along gently in pace with us
Touching your brown nose and passing your limbs.
Blessing you with a soft radiance and blissful joy a child can only know.
Your school uniform lighter than cerulean sky
Matching your gaiety, perfecting a mother-child moment.
Dotting the passing clouds with pure colors of your innocence and laughter.
Gigantic floating cotton balls of clouds
like stringed balloons; oh, please hold onto them,
cease 'em before away they fly.
A moment to treasure when things aren't as happy as they should.
A many of this I pray to come,
A joyful carefree walk with my little boy;
Now, a mother's hand held by her small son.
I try to ignore the squirming Hyde within
And, with effort still,
I raise myself for the last traces
of sunshine and fun.
What was left of the day, I savor for me.
As the withering leaves of silence
have perfected the petals of stillness,
Such absence of sound
Never a serenity to the mind.
Disturbing solitude haunts.
Loneliness seems vivid as reality speaks
Even the poignant sadness never parts
Solitary confinement paints an art.
Like the spectator in a thousand theatre plays,
I achingly wait for the final curtains to part.
Then, as always expected -
Left were the
together with the late sunset wind.
Tiny golden flecks
imprinting on the soft white
laces and trims.
Catching shadow images
of the last rays of brilliance,
blending slowly in yellow embers,
forming orange coals,
turning into sunkissed glow
of a sad goodbye.
ever so softly fading
into dullness and cloudless cold.
And as the night falls,
its shadowy self dances
against the moonlit music of silence.
I listen and search still
for what is left.
No traces of the sun
whose magnificence and radiance
had touched the leaves of laughter
during my daytime slumbering; children frolicking,
early had the mind sensing.
And, gone astray were the seeds of kindness
the day had grown.
It seemed they were sown
by someone I wish I had known.
If only I could frolic
where little lads had been early today -
in the meadows,
by the pond,
along the shores,
around friendly trees and smiling flowers,
with the meadowlarks and chirpy games,
I’d give away anything.
Basking in the sun on such a lemony day,
someone sulks to find it's an emotional burn.
If only I could catch the loveliness of the sun,
I'd give away anything.
Just for something this grand.
The mind wills but the heart groans.
A moment of joy and laughter, so fleeting.
Forgot me, gave away the troubles.
Today could be A DAY,
If only, ever so softly, I could catch the sun.
She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror
I wait for your warm embrace
It pierces the harden shell were I dwell
The brilliance of your beauty draws me in
A vision of magnificence
My eyes long to hold your gaze
I wait with a heavy heart for your arrival
I am Captured
At Peace Once More That You Are Here~
Golden sun rays flow
above the clouds - and below
silver linings glow.
Walking in the meadow of life on that summer day
Where she always loved to be at Una walked along the steady stream
As she picked up the white Lilly flower and put upon her hair of gold (princess of love)
And the daughter of a dander king
Una suddenly turned her head to the old orchard tree and begun to sing roman lullabies of joy
With tears of affection shed for the god who lives above the skies
At that moment she gazed back to the stream
And there the lion stood so tall just like a king eyes wide looked to una
As she went toward the mighty lion he went to her and utter'd thee words
I am a creature of pride with nothing to hide I am pure of heart true of courage with a mask of savage a mane gold as our hearts-
She became very happy and intrigued
As she laid her gentle hands on upon the lion she spoke these words
-I love thee lion and by sun and moon I love thee freely as men strive for right;
I love thee purely in my old griefs and childhood's faith
There a tiny lamb appears right next to her and the lion
So small and graceful like a gift from god above
The tiny lamb followed them further into the enchanted meadow sky as crystal blue and the wind is calm they drifted off strung into the world
To bring new love joy and courage to the world and spread good faith
On that cloudy weekend in June
I hear a soft and graceful tune
from the grey bird on the tree
Singing sweet lullabies felt
blessed in the moment
My body tingles of joy at sight
Gazing out through
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon
Heart filled with emotion came
Grey bird stood playing its tune
for awhile and on the wings of
Then as the rain fell from the
sky the grey bird flew away
I blew a kiss to the clouds and
utterd these simple words of I
Love You father ( who's now in
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear
that grey bird sing again once
more for me
Farewell, love your son
Poem contest for Debbie -referential
My love intended for the girl of my dreams,
she walks from side to side,
not knowing that I walk alone.
She is beautiful than any other thing in this simple world,
everything around her shakes and trembles
as she walks on by without a spare of a passing glance.
The wine is drunk
the last cigarette smoked,
the pain of heartache gone away.
It feels good to see her go my way,
to take the pain with her away from me,
as I sit in the wayward cafe on the river of ashes.
A beautiful girl she is mine,
but that course of life shall no surpass mine,
and my heart beats and takes me away
in hope of falling in love.
Irony of love and hate,
it is similar in many ways,
as I sit and think of her.
She angers me,
but when the vail of anger falls over my eyes,
the passion of love enters my mind.
Come now, take me away,
hold me in your beauty,
and love me with your gentle body.
Go into the gardens,
where the nightingales sing,
and sit at the patio's crossway.
Watch the artists paint pictures of the garden,
watch the writers write about the garden,
and watch us go and pick flowers in the garden.
The air smooth and wind breeze calms the nerves,
the pain of my sorrowed heart is soothed,
by her sweet intellegence and beauty.
Her eyes, orbs of blazing sunlight,
blind me with the beauty of her beauteous face,
her lips and skin smooth and pure.
She is glorious,
My love she is the dream girl,
who comes and takes my nightmares away from me.
As I sit on the park benches,
I light my last cigarette,
and reminicse on the days with my love.
I close my tired eyes only for a moment,
and the moment is gone,
my beauty is gone.
The tears are all gone,
the pain has gone,
the feelings of everlasting love are all gone.
Where did it all go?
Where did my beauty go?
Where did my love go?
All gone now, all gone now,
as I grow old,
the feeling of death takes me by surprise.
The park bench is cold,
the cigarette is burnt out,
I am longing for a drink.
I lay in a wayward cafe
drink a coffee and talk to myself
discussing a book of poetry.
Looking over to the right
I am blinded by beauty once again
this time this is no dream.
Alas, my dream girl came
that appeared in my sunny pleasure dome,
who has walked barefoot in the gardens of my mind.
She sat with me,
I looked at her
and we smiled together.
We held hands together,
and dreamed together,
forever and ever.
cigarettes smoked together.
A cloud over our heads
in the shape of a heart
As I wake up in morning,
I see sun shining,
That there's a saying,
''Hope you will be enjoying''.
On I say. On we must go
The time is right, I feel it head to toe
I've never seen the sea, I do not know it's waves
I want to walk to Africa, it is the sun I crave
On I say. We must go now
Another day of dormancy I cannot allow
The happiest days of my life were when I ran away
Farther and farther I went it did not matter which way
I had never seen such long and colored days
I wanted the sun in my eyes ablaze
We have to leave. Let us set out
I want to know what life outside this town is about
Let us cross the desert, we'll go as far as we can
Then we'll go back to Africa and thus begin again
I want the sun I say, I want the sun in my face
I want the sun at my back, I want the sun every place
I want you to be with me I don't want to go alone
Please say you'll come with me, or don't, either way I'm gone
This poem is inspired by Leonardo DiCaprio's portrayal of the French poet Arthur Rimbaud in Total Eclipse. It's one of my favorites and I wanted to pay it proper homage.
There is a place,
a magical wonderland
that sits at the end of your mind,
and everybody dead and living
goes there when they are tired.
It is a place that is special
and is diffrent to stand to your approval.
It is a nighttime wonder
only open from eleven to five
and you can only come,
if you truely believe.
It is a place
where the streets are paved gold,
peace runs through every corner and avenue,
no jails, no hospitals
because there is no crime and no sickness.
The skies are always blue,
and the clouds are all white,
the sun is blazing hot
and the woman all give you a wink of an eye
and all blow you kisses,
where the men want to be you,
and where the women want to sleep with you.
It is a nighttime wonder,
a special place,
in the back of your mind.
It is real, not imaginary,
nothing is fake about this place,
this is where dreams come true,
where there are no cancers, headaches, toothaches,
no wars, no enemies, no hangovers,
no schools, no politicians, no lawyers, no greed,
no sin, no temptation, no demons or devils;
everything is beautiful, and everything grand.
A piece of Heaven on Earth.
Everyone is happy,
all with a smile on their face,
not a frown in sight.
Songs are sung with the most beautiful of voices
and the sweetest of songs sung.
This place is a nighttime wonder.
When you tuck yourself under the sheets,
grab your pillow, or girlfriend, or boyfriend
husband or wife, or even your favorite stuffed friend,
we all go to this special nighttime wonderland.
A place of joy, a place of happiness,
a place where you go to forget
a mini vacation.
Till that alarm clock's annyoing buzz comes on
and pulls you out of that nighttime wonder
and places you back into reality.
I look out the window
and see the falling rain,
the sun blinks through the clouds
but, the rain, will be back again.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Sun comes out to play
tomorrow it will be back
but, snow for Monday.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Never lose hope. Keep dreaming and long for tomorrow. :)
Tomorrow, you are the one we long for
Tomorrow, you are beautiful, your soul the sun
Tomorrow, bring us love, joy, hope and fun
Tomorrow, give us new lands to soar
Tomorrow, take our troubles and sorrows away
Tomorrow, make us forget yesterday.
Hopeful but its so mundane
Filling the hollowness with more empty pleasure
But it takes my hand and and walks me through this withering decay
Into the ecliptic silence,
Self medicated diluted dreams
A mixture of over stimulation and desensitizing me
Somewhere between ominous and beautiful
Letting the darkness consume my conscious brain
Until the sun can realign and pulls me back into this day
To overcome this strange numbness
Of self inflicted shadowing
Butterflies once warmed me up inside until I pulled off all their wings
Holding memories I cant forget while praying to a God who has forgot
But we are only allowed to keep the things that we have already lost
Sometimes living is not enough without sovereignty
As these flightless insects crawl back inside
Then perhaps through their death life would be more satisfied
Finger deep I draw a line then stand to face a blackened sky
I reevaluate Your presence now without You Lord then where am I
Because this is me You were my light, subsequently my faith has died
Somewhere below the surface of this shifting unstable world of mine
Rises with sun, the morning with shine,
Clear is the view, for churches, mosque and shrine.
Glory of its softness, sweet as bread and wine,
A beautiful moment for remembering the holy divine.
Now darkness of loneliness vanished with the night,
Open up your mind; towards the sky appearing so bright.
Brings the almighty to you, the message of miracle and hope,
Using symbol of morning; denotes your grieve will elope.
A new day, a new journey, a new way, for every bird, animal and their venue,
Why are you so frightened? Go, plant your own avenue.
World was created for survivors, who never willed to give-up,
For those brave souls; who learn, implement and live up.
Upright is your future like trees and mountains high;
Giving the message to shade the noon, for underneath who’s the feeble lie.
You are the spark which ignites the thunder,
Why are you so afraid, even we god make blunder.
Rises with sun, the morning with shine,
Bring Glory to me, as you are my art so fine…
-‘Panchi’ Panchal Hitesh
see more on: www.reckonhp.blogspot.in
on a crowded train
on my way home
the monotonous drone
suddenly tuned in
a different tone
of the slow change
the light of sunset
in a new range
in intense red
the new terrain
birth of several protists
of continuing moments
during that very unexpected
but so carefully arranged
of sun-guided eye-winks
each time revealing
another life-changing glimpse
© Ellie Daphne
PS. A very dear friend shared a intimate story with me.... and this Rhyme is a metaphor for what I 'saw' and felt (too)
What inward sight illuminates our way -
Whose lucid eye can all the ages span -
To see the Mystic Law that holds its sway
Beyond the endless birth and death of Man?
The luminary moon, when night is done,
Still rules the tides, though the daylight hides it.
The lotus always turns to face the sun
And yet what blossom eye ever guides it?
The cross-eyed men with intellect adorn
Their intuitions - blind who lead the blind -
The common mortals - blind when they were born -
With doubtful eyes that Truth could never find.
We look - we stare - we gaze and gaze - but we,
With sightless eyes, forever fail to see.
– Harley White
< October 6, 1999 >
I see it! Vivid of my imagination
Hence - I believe my senses are aware
I live - I breathe as if to care
I daydream at the radiant skies
I see a clear blue sky of beauty
Hues- they are prominent orange
The sunlight on my face
The pinks too , they leave a trace
The water with its gleaming reflection
Wow! I am in awe ! I cast a shadow
I walk the beach - I see footprints in the sand
I pick a beautiful velvety flower
Petals so pretty - delicate and pure
I am oblivious ! Don't patronize me!
I woke up this morning to the sunrise
Tears in my eyes - I cry out
Thus I imagine my new born day
I cast the shadows with God by my side
Feelings of love so deep too inside
Today I am doomed in reality
That God with the heavenly skies still I see
Is truly walking paths with me
But yet I see still that in my mind
That my face gleaming, beaming with sunlight
Shed those tears - I see the light
The tunnel within , I see no God with you, this I find
I still cry tears - Do I look the other way?
Bewildered? What do you think?
Try the passion with God's creations
Hypnotized by his love is all I can say
Walking hand in hand , day by glorious day
I woke to the sunlight, thus this is today....
another day in the woods. on Strawberry ridge
looking out over undulating green hills to
the next great wall ridge of mountains. the last
morning clouds left from last night's storm
hanging in the valley mistily. the sun eventually
burns them away.
the respect between old Paul Karlsen and I continues
to exist. even though he's a Mormon and I'm a fallen
New Yorker. the work is comparatively easy, lifting
hundred pound bags, so you can just imagine what
we do other days. in fact, it's fun, especially for
young Bates. we get all white (and our lungs dusty).
on the way to and from the work site I read
in Silent Spring, the chapter against herbicides, gathering
inspiration for the upcoming controversy. in the end
perhaps I'll be fired for refusing to lay down Tordon
beads. realizing this, as I drive with Bates,
I see the dark green conifers and begin to miss them.
Rocks and rattlesnakes, bluebells
and mountain daisies, grasses and cactuses, mahogany
bush, lodgepole pine and quaking aspen, lush forest
and dry sun-tortured mountainside, wind and seed
carried by wind, ants, streams, hummingbird
and hawk, deer, badger, ground squirrel, wolverine.
Take my soul
and burn it into your belly;
purify it, 'til no more impurities
of pain and worry are visible in it.
Make me to glow
like you do;
shining in everyone's life,
as you shine on us......
shines through our eyes
makes us light
as the dawn rises;
shades of all colors
running through us
into the sacred rainbow
where we live and die
transformed beyond suns
into music and light
holy breath and nectar
and the peace
Once away the house it burns
the fields they say are hay
What the devil knows
so the quiet pre-born stars
share unquestioning looks,
and talk of insane releases.
“I laugh in the open field,
the sun’s house burning over
and down my shoulders.
I’m so sad.”
She smiles, giggles
and as they relax
the calm pouring
of the fire that does not burn.
The Spring sun beams down
life begins anew,
snow melts all around
the sky, a beautiful blue.
Birds go through the sky
music gently flows,
I watch as they fly
wind carries them to and fro.
I take in the sight
nature at its best,
the sun is so bright
Spring sun, never takes a rest.
I don't hear a sound
the sky's not so blue,
dark clouds float so high
the wind is crisp, as it blows,
still watch the birds, as they fight
stealing from each other's nests.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
I call this one a CynJon. It's named after me. I started counting syllables and didn't find anything that matched up with what I had for poetry styles. So, I figured, why not create my own style of poetry again.