Details |
Jesse Clark Poem
Not Midnight yet, not near that late
that lucky hour when sleep might come
Sleep the sneak-thief
slipping through the dark
to impale my eyes with gentle slumber
visions of half-truths and unseen wonders
But, I resist
unwilling champion of the night
Guardian of the shadows
Protector of the unborn morn
The babe of new beginnings
The end of endless night
The bright new boy, the hope, the day
Not Midnight yet, not near that late
That watchful hour
when stars are small bright gems
spread 'cross the velvet cloth
Creator's canvass
I await confessed, in darkness dressed
but, I hear no request, no master shown
No path that leads away from my own past
I stand my turn, my vigil
endless night my Holy test
My expectant waiting for daylight blessed
My fear, my eyes closing
to see my own lost innocence
Copyright © Jesse Clark | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Jesse Clark Poem
Love is sweet poison from the lips
Falling Kingdoms and sinking ships
Love is that first nervous kiss, over at last
hands shaking, heart pounding, and beating much to fast
Love is holding hands and kissing goodnight
Laughter and tears, promising never to fight
Love is sweet dreams and painful goodbyes
Long romantic nights and passionate sighs
Love is a small baby in Mother's arms
warm and innocent, safe from harm
Love is a perfect little hand wrapped around your finger
rocking to sleep while memories linger
Love is sharing memories with caring friends
Promising their friendship will never end
Love is little girls chasing little boys
candy kisses and brand new toys
Love is Grandpa's farm and Grandma's kitchen
waving from the back seat and waiting for the weekend
Love is a bent back and trembling hands
spreading dirt and tears over his best friend
Love Webster says: is intense affection for another-
Father, Friend, Sister, Brother, Mother, or Mate
We should all Love each other.
Copyright © Jesse Clark | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Jesse Clark Poem
I have my pictures and my poetry
my maps of ancient times and my books
In a world gone mad with murderous chaos
Yet everyday-clever with culture and seductive technologies
My poetic heart beats strongly with the love of the people that
surround me
My children and their children; the children of friends
and the friends of children
I cherish them, like the bees that swarm around
a flower-bed... I sit and await their notice
needing their attention and their movement
to confirm my reality
As I ponder the winds of time
Copyright © Jesse Clark | Year Posted 2013
|