Poem | |
A new borns cry
Tearful last good bye
Swaying waves of golden prairie grass
Shifting desert dunes - an hour glass
An acorn dropping among forest leaves
To mighty oak - a lifetime of dreams
The changing moon - to full again
Each morn' the sun - new skies begin
Eagles soar high - our hearts go there
These ripples in time - we all share
Poem | |
~Under the Same Moon~
Our days are different, living under the same moon
Down here in TEXAS, life carries a different tune
This world spins on its lovely axis
Listening to our Tex-Mex of our English lexis
We share a world made with the trust of God's hand
Revealing the beauty that life continue to expand
Don't underestimate our football image of our Cow Boy land
A mysterious Mockingbird only we Texans understand
Surrounded by the sweetest Pecan trees
The Northern Winters come in like a breeze and a tease
We also have them Blue Bonnet fields that come and go
Tell me about CANADA, what makes its motion flow?
Branded like a Long Horn, with my Lone Star State pride
How about you, CHRIS A. What's up on your side?
Different lives, different lands, living under the same moon,
waking up to the ghostly calls of the wild loon.
Look upon mountains and forests stretching into infinity-
mighty Sequoias and tall Douglas firs stand majestically.
I could offer stereo-typical images of hockey, snow and moose,
or sockeye salmon, maple syrup and the great Canadian goose,
but we Canucks are becoming tired of idly standing by
as the rest of the world dips its fingers into our Northern pie.
We are a nation of peaceful, open-minded hospitality,
shying away from brutality by offering liberal neutrality.
Before I blow my top as my strong emotions collide,
I should definitely step away from my nationalistic pride,
and ask about the Philippines and its tropical flair-
how about you Nikko, what is happening over there?
Oceans away, here I am, living under the same moon
Sun’s rising over there; here, dish runs away with the spoon
My sleep is whacked, so I’m wide awake when you are,
amazing how we can all be in one place even if we’re all very far
Where islands form the shape of an old man, waters hug our shores
Tropical Paradise here, when you explore the great outdoors
Awesome sunsets, bountiful fiestas, the warmest smiles to greet you...
We here just love to eat when there’s nothing else to do!
Colorful rice cakes, freshest seafood, the most succulent mangoes~
Sunny days or rainy days, the creativity here just flows.
Resilient. This is a word that pops to mind when I think of us Filipinos-
We bend and bounce back, no matter how hard the wind blows.
This is just a sneak peek, but I’d love to know more about Utah
Care to share what’s on your side, my dear friend Andrea?
( 3 Way Collaboration )
Poem | |
sublime my paintings, memory be
lost in time, I now must see
where once the gale winds trembled chill
wrapped in blankets, remember still
a touch, a kiss, the summer sun
from deep within, must now be spun
I frolic to and fro in time
my brush, alas..... can only mime
I still can hear cicada's whine
but yearn for yellow celandine
tho memories fade, my spirit thrives
aflush! my paintings will survive!
Poem | |
I'm still alive and I don't know why?
My heart survived falling from the butterfly sky
Caught by the hands of destiny
With visions only I can see!
My love I heard your call
Wings of a butterfly broke my fall
Love motion is in the air, a love no one can compare
Indulging a look-a-stare- that we both share
Reminiscing our love made out of stolen hope
Awe~:*! To them butterfly kisses that felt so real
Flowing like Amazing Grace,
A shining light upon my face.
I traveled fast and far, longing to be in your arms
I desire, the warm sensation of your charms
Your safe love will help me carry on,
With the strength and bond~the love you set upon
Nothing is better than a sensual butterfly kiss
Beyond the sensation of heaven's pure bliss
Fluttering in the clouds aiming for the moon
A dream of reality, out of my cocoon I bloom!
Valued by the art of true beauty and its rarity
True love flapping in the mist of clarity
I entwine that I am yours and you are mine
Bonded together till the end of time
With the vision my heart is no longer blind
Two broken hearts at last combined
I glide below to touch your lip.
Our lashes touch from tip to tip.
Caressing each other as our wings expand
Two hearts- kisses collide and land
Holding your hand reaching to the rainbow sky.
Kisses:*kisses:* like the butterfly!
Dedicated to *Nathan*
Poem | |
Charcoal black tip of arrowhead
among these ancient, stones - stained red
Heartbeats feel rhythms of ghostly drums
Winds carry haunting, chanting hums
I feel your blood, flow here with mine
Outlasting, even decaying time
I've been told the stories, told by you
I know we're just spirits, passing through
When thunder, shakes awake the night
I vision warriors by firelight
Their voices echo, around mountain's soul
While moon and stars watch us below
Respect the sky, and mother earth
Borrow the beauty, from time of birth
Then give in death peacefully
yourself, to rest eternally
Among these ancient, stones - stained red
my mirror reflects traces, of those long...........
proud to be one quarter Cherokee.....native american indian
Poem | |
If we don’t feel with our hearts, we don’t belong
If we don’t see as one, the world is wrong
Beyond the wars and the hate and the insanity
We are all connected as humanity
We are the child with cancer who still wears a smile
We are the kid from the projects facing trial
We are the pregnant teen feeling lost and used
We are the elderly man in a home abused
We are the young couple, marriage on the rocks
We are the homeless one in a cardboard box
We are the cold and hungry, sad and depressed
We are the lonely child who never felt blessed
We are the woman whose life was filled with pain
We are the man standing alone in the pouring rain
We are the child who struggles day to day
We are the teenage girl who ran away
We are the soldier killed in an unjust war
We are the young man who can dream no more
We are the inmate locked away for life
We are the old man who has lost his wife
We would be better off without our vanity
And have a sense of belonging to humanity.
Poem | |
The innocence lost so long ago
The undying faith we used to know
The gentle rain of a summer's skies
You can find it all in your child's eyes.
The world was right one time it seems
And we could reach beyond our dreams
To meet a challenge of any size
That fire still burns in your child's eyes.
In a world of anger and miscontent
And the frustrations of a life misspent
And you wait in fear as the storms arise
You can still find peace in your child's eyes.
Take the time for all those things
Hear his words: feel the joy he brings
There is no hate; there are no lies
There is only love in your child's eyes.
Poem | |
The old man sat with eyes closed, dozing in his chair
Until a little voice he heard say “Grandpa, are you there”.
He gazed upon a little boy while waking from his nap
Then reached down with a sweeping move and placed him in his lap
The child was carrying a book that he wanted him to see
He held it up and asked him “Grandpa, will you read to me”?
The old man cleaned his glasses then opened up the book
And suddenly the two of them a wonderous journey took
They ventured lands so far away, sailed seas not sailed before
Met knights and kings and wizards on every distant shore.
Together they fought dragons, saved damsels in distress
Freeing lands of monsters and the treasures they possess
When the old man closed the cover to end their magic ride
He told the boy “We're much like books, what's important is inside”.
But one day when the boy arrived and rushed to Grandpas chair
Much to his disappointment, his Grandpa was not there
He ran to find his mother for surely she would know
Why the chair was empty, where did his Grandpa go
She sat him down and asked him if he remembered in each book
The adventures and the journeys that he and Grandpa took
He took you there to show you the things that you can find
The wonders that are yours to see if you open up your mind.
But he still walks beside you in the stories you have read
You're not left to go alone, he’s just gone on ahead
The child then went and chose a book and climbed up in the chair
And opening up the cover whispered “Grandpa, are you there”?
Poem | |
She briskly walks in January’s rain,
which drums the endless rhythm of her pain,
pulling closer round her shoulder in the downpour
the leather jacket he so often wore.
Another day like this she can remember
when he had worn the jacket, and against her
he’d pressed as they stood kissing in the rainfall.
The world could wash away; he was her all!
No storm could stop their loving as they raced
with great anticipation to his place.
Before they’d even reached the bedroom door,
they’d flung their rain-soaked clothes along the floor.
Underneath the sheets, though cold and wet,
they madly kissed. He was as passionate
as winter’s storm away from which they’d run,
and yet he warmed her like sweet summer’s sun!
She‘s almost home; the rain has nearly died.
She thinks of all the nights she lay and cried.
While thinking how the rainstorm’s cold still lingers,
inside the jacket’s pockets she moves her fingers.
In the lining of one pocket, her fingers meet
a crumpled piece of paper - an old receipt -
its date from when, without a word, he’d left their town
and in the city, by a drunk had got run down.
The piece of paper gives her now a revelation-
A high class jewelry store had been his destination.
He’d planned to ask her very soon to be his wife.
and bought a ring there on that last day of his life!
His parents gave his jacket to her, yet
she’d always guessed the worst for why he’d left.
What happened to the ring? She cannot know.
But now her tears with bitter sweetness flow.
Poem | |
When my time is done and I am finally laid to rest
I don’t want to be recalled as one who lived life depressed
So as I wrote my will, I chose to leave an instruction
That laughing gas be inhaled by all those at the function
No mournful eulogies will a pastor have to invent
For my funeral will be held under a circus tent
When dozens of clowns emerge from the tiny Volkswagen
Reams of my silly limericks Bozo will be dragin’
And as they’re read aloud, family and friends who knew me best
Will say, “She had a sense of humor, this we can attest.”
Mimes will mimic me trying to write the world’s best novel
As my corpse hangs from the trapeze, surely they will marvel
Laughter will ensue as they shoot me from the cannon
Flying high in my demise across the great Grand Canyon
All the children will smile and there’ll be no tears allowed
So no one will ever remember me as a “dark cloud”
There are people who seem to take life way too seriously
When I meet my Maker, don’t view this as a tragedy
Dad called me his “happy girl,” so let me go out that way
I want to leave them laughing as I reach my judgment day
Entry for Sidney Lee Ann's "All About You" contest