this choir only sings for one,
when once, blue-birds two,
the reflection of the splashing,
two souls, laughing against rapids,
when you danced, under moonlight,
I lost myself blinded to your sight,
a heaven, swiped two hands twice,
a mourning for a special someone,
the dunce springs off youth,
the affection of hand holding,
two nouns of sublimity,
Wish to rewind before that night.
Inexplicably silent in choir
being unusually quiet
not a word from me was heard
neither spoken nor sung
so as not to cause a riot
when jibes bad vibes at me were slung
and I was asked, 'Cat got your tongue?'
I replied, 'Here's the thing,
really and truly, I cannot sing,
it's been this way for all my years,
whatever it is I appear to hear,
and between my ears to me audibly sits,
tho' quite right there, when on the tongue's tip,
it's not the same music my mouth emits.'
There once was a sensitive vicar,
who said, "I'm not one to bicker,
but the peal of that bell,
makes me feel quite unwell,
and plays merry hell with my ticker."
An incensed old soul by the spire,
preaching incense-igniting to the choir,
exclaimed, "There is but one catch,
when striking a match,
don't set your surplice on fire."
A parson spoke from the nave,
"Spend all you can, do not save,
if you've spilled all the sands,
and still have time on your hands,
you can't take it with you to the grave."
A wise minister in the kirk,
enlightened, observed with a smirk,
"When it's dark out there,
put your hands in the air,
as many hands make light work.”
No Choir and Dire Horn Haiku
when could be choir
will no longer inspire
decide times dire
Speak the words in the bible
Cause them to be ever true
Speak life in times of trouble
Teach us to be happy not blue
'the angels sing a melodious sound
The heavenly choir, their voice they raise
Let's keep our feet on solid ground
And ask for blessings all of our days
What wonderful warmth
Weaves through my bones
Some mystic music
With healing tones
A summer waft
A sunshine snuggle
A hug so deep
Erasing trouble
If only I could bottle this
To keep it fresh
This cleansing balm
This wonderous mesh..
Connecting souls
Correcting ills
Blessing so full
It overspills
The world needs more -
This love strewn hit
To cure pandemic
Deficit
Yet here I rest
Tired eyes closed tight
While restful thoughts
Redeem the blight
A harvest
Doth my soul peruse
An ancient truth
Stills daily news
Join me, do
If you so desire
To find your heart's
Angelic choir
A harmony
That lives within
To quell the worldly
Heartless din
Peaceful corner
Comfy chair
Your favourite spot
I'll meet you there
I get my updates on the news
From certain magazines
And papers, which are quite in sync
With how my mindset leans.
Of course, their editorials
Make so much sense to me
That I can’t understand
How anyone could disagree.
However, there are outlets
For the news which do not jibe
With my beliefs, endorsing those
To whom I don’t subscribe.
I neither read nor listen to
These views, which I oppose
And likewise, they’ve no interest
In what my side might propose.
All those preaching to the choir
Know that time and time again,
They would trade the chance of open minds
To hear one more “Amen!”
Blue notes float like cloud
Singing Christmas tree I shout
Holy melody
We have a reason to sing
We are doing our thing
Turkey dash
Oven free
We are traveling carefree
How noble and superior
We don’t have inferior
Turkey’s everywhere asked Greyhound to help them escape
We are not moving like an ape
Destinations doesn’t matter
We have cut down all the chatter
Away from any knife and fork
Dinner tables try eating pork
This is a Turkey getaway
That Ax is not coming nowhere near our way
The Greyhound bus is forever our friend
From beginning to end
Greyhound Bus Turkey wheels in keep on rolling
Passing dinner tables by
Our distances are far
We don’t need a car
Turkey eating a turnoff
Sunrise to Sunset
Turkeys are saying, “We have pushed away in a determined getaway”
We will not be considered Turkey Day
We don’t care what anybody says
Turkey out
When spring lands, a natural world awakes.
Humans whisper, and our souls shake.
A light breeze sets off a flurry of pinwheels.
While we admire the forest natural feel.
The wind whispers mysteries in our ears.
As lovers lips come close without any fear.
The birds cram the air with their lovely melodies.
Butterflies soar into the sky with graceful ease.
The sun is up, and it's warming up our skin.
And our rattling souls are bursting from within.
Flowers are in bloom, and rainbows abound.
A living symphony that never fails to astound
We threw off our coats and bulky gear.
While we relax in the sun's gentle sheer.
It is now spring, the season of rebirth.
A feast honoring human existence on earth.
We should break out into ecstasy and dance.
And earn the most of each day's entrance.
Since spring is a season that quickly fades away.
Creating memories that will endure every day.
Written: June 08, 2023
Pal a boola fire
Sing sing sing
Hallelujah choir
Ring ring ring
Mall a koola tire
swing swing swing
Shall a Roola Wire
Fling fling fling
Balla Boola Mire
Ling ling ling
Hallelujah choir
swing swing swing
worshipped from afar
pretty girl in chapel choir
Love Divine
He said to once again enquire
About the things he should acquire,
Which their Law School Programs require
From one seeking to be Esquire
And he's shown a gown of a Choir
He'd seen in a jeep like Sequoia:
On a good friend,catechist Isaiah,
Then,firing the jeep in a mire
In front of a kiosk Of Keziah
"No to a choir- like esquire:
Readers of Book of Obadiah..."
the choir loft
singers gather
some late
constant chatter
leader says “quiet!”
we obey
tune-up
exercise
quiet
review piece
note by note
sing our special parts
blend our voices and sing
praise
everyone happy
Written December 6, 2022
Submitted to “Writing Challenge – Yalto Form” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
O ye dead Poets, who are living still
Within the circuit of this plodding life
For truly this game is well begun
Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot
My foolish, broken, blemished Muse so sings
HARK! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings
May Jove restore you when your toils are o'er
I wandered lonely as a cloud
SPLENDOR of ended day, floating and filling me!
Is the end of my song
Then give them all the lie
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
How dreary to be somebody!
Constantly risking absurdity and death
Wrapt in the old miasmal mist.
Life, what is it but a dream?
We like a fog
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