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George Seal Poem
I am the Unknown Soldier, i stand guard here on my own.
For those who fought for freedom, but never returned home.
They lie where they had fallen, in everlasting peace.
Long since ago their comrades, who prayed by unmarked graves
Did speak in truth of valour, displayed on battle fields.
And i, in silence listened, bore witness to their deeds.
Now they speak with reverence, of human sacrifice.
And poppies tell their story, of days when reason died.
Come the hour when bugles play, The Last Post, rest in peace.
It is my solemn duty, to bear each soldiers pride.
They look and say it's raindrops, when tears weep from my eyes,
For those children of those children, of those who came before.
I see great sadness and respect, bring comfort to their souls.
Then as the setting sun goes down, i stand vigil all alone.
8 / 29 / 2017.
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Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2017
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George Seal Poem
It was way after eight, at the Cat in the Hat.
The whole plaice was swimming, quoth the mackrel to sprat.
Though the milk was upset, she still stifled her cry,
So sorry i spilt you, mumbled poor humble pie.
My joints are the bees knees, squealed the honey roast ham,
And the apple agreed, she was better than spam.
Then red herring denied, he had something to hide,
Like a small Bombay duck, is a fish that is dried.
While tasty choux pastry, bared her soul to an eel,
The mock turtle announced, i believe i am veal.
And the ice cube was crushed, as she played fast and loose,
For an orange refused, to be part of fruit juice.
As warm rhubarb crumble, melts in custards embrace,
The sour gooseberry tart, wails she's taking my place
Then a voice in my head, spoke it's all fantasy.
Your table awaits you, said the waitress to me.
I glanced at the menu, it was all a la carte.
I said, bring me everything, but let's start with that tart.
Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2017
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George Seal Poem
When you're wanting to bet
On a racehorse, don't fret.
With this tip from the stable door.
Pair Wunwun with Tutu,
A double that's for you.
It's a wager you should not ignore
Wunwun won,one race,
And Tutu too, her chase.
That has left one bookie,quite sore.
1 1 is a racehorse. 2. 2 is 1. 2
1.1. 1 1 race 2. 2 1. 1. 2.
Wunwun is a racehorse. Tutu is one too
Wunwun won one race. Tutu won one too.
11 / 2 / 2016.
Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2016
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George Seal Poem
Traversing Iceland's National Park, a timeless place, where daylight fills each passing hour
and twilights ever brief. While volcanoes stand by sentinel, amidst dark lava fields.
Amazing geysers so magnificent, vent angry clouds of steam. Our route wlnds through
wild landscapes, laid down by ice and fire. Breathtaking scenes see lustrous skies, change
colour constantly. To marvel as wild reindeer herds migrate, in seeking pastures new.
We rest awhile to take respite beside a waterfall, avoiding midday's heat. And bathe in ice
cool waters crystalline, refreshing tired feet. The time soon comes for us to climb to high
plateaus,where vast glaciers with melting ice, cascade torrents down below. From this
vantage point we sight, the coastal waters where we aim to spend the night. Eventually, we
make our descent, crisscrossing mountain streams, and wend our way carefully, to stroll
through pastures green. Wild ponies graze as we pass by, observing us with watchful eye.
Unbroken and unbowed by man, a force of nature, likens them to this rugged land.
At journey's end we reach the fjord, this tranquil scene gains our accord for
camping wild. Waiting patiently until the midnight hour to take some photographs.
All panoramic landscapes, and taking centre stage this star, still shining bright our sun.
Waking early to the strident sounds of seabirds raucous calls. Our experience seems
so surreal, without the break of dawn. Today our destination will end our brief sojourn.
Eventfully we stand beside where continents divide, Eurasia and North America's
tectonic plates collide.
arctic midnight sun
shows creations finest hour
land of ice and fire
6/ 24/ 2018.
Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2018
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George Seal Poem
In essence the unconscious mind,
Reveals all knowledge for mankind.
To pursue dreams, each vision brings,
Then soar above the earth on wings.
We navigate uncharted shores,
In oceans deep, mankind explores.
Now Astronauts walk on the moon,
And vaccines keep us all immune.
While seeking methods,to ensure,
Research disease to find a cure.
Now if we want to travel far,
There's railways, aeroplanes, or car.
Some might say, it's so much finer
Cruising on an ocean liner.
Or any time we are alone,
Our friends can call by mobile phone.
And television let's us share,
Events worldwide, in our armchair.
We speak with words for to converse,
But language sometimes can be terse.
In truth some minds are always blind,
With grandeur of a certain kind.
As mankind shows his cruel face,
Destroying life, to his disgrace.
By wars that escalate unchecked,
Whilst innocents, their lives are wrecked.
For Peacemakers, they clutch at straws,
To find someway to end those wars.
Their supreme efforts are in vain,
No changing minds of those insane
It seems that only peace can be,
In virtual reality.
4/22/2016.
For the Innate Magnetism poetry contest.
Sponsor. Unseeking Seeker.
Date of contest end.
Friday November 11th 2022.
Armistice Day of Remembrance.
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Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2016
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George Seal Poem
Autumn's true beauty will display,
A woodland scene, a final show.
Those falling leaves, red gold and grey,
On gentle breezes dance and sway,
A graceful sight as cool winds flow.
Autumn's true beauty will display,
A magic carpet as they lay.
Beneath the trees once more they blow,
Those falling leaves ,red gold and grey.
Now on the woodland floor they play,
In morning mist, and sunlights glow.
Autumn's true beauty will display,
A tapestry from disarray.
An ever changing to and fro,
Those falling leaves, red gold and grey,
Will dance once more, before decay.
One final show of trees we know,
Autumn's true beauty will display,
Those falling leaves, red gold and grey.
Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2015
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George Seal Poem
They live in fear in Ireland.
Their sin is ' wearing of the green.'
St. Patricks shamrock is now banned.
A National Emblem caught between,
Sweet Erins pride, and Englands stand
Against the green, and to demean.
Then rule the Gaels with iron hand.
Beyond the pale lifes unforseen.
It's freedom that, life does demand.
So paradise on earth would mean.
Sail Westward to a distant land,
Where Irelands shamrock can be seen
Those colonists will understand
Why Irish eyes smile so serene.
Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2015
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George Seal Poem
Blue__ Aeons past when chaos raged, with acrid SMELLS and YELLOW flames,
Explosions cast the moon from earths embrace.
Blue__ Skies will fade as eventide SHOWS SILVER rays
Cascading from moons mirrored light.
Blue__ Oceans roaring SOUND of waves, where on their crests
WHITE horses chase those turning tides.
Blue__ FEELINGS seem to emanate, from where deep COBALT shadows creep,
And melancholy hides behind her changing face.
Blue__ Glows the moon when she is veiled, enshrouded by volcanic ash,
A bitter TASTE of smoke from molten lava's SCARLET flames.
( smell, yellow, show, silver, sound, white, feelings, cobalt, taste, scarlet )
As moonlight dances with the rites of spring, sweet smells of yellow daffodils,
Will float upon the evening's breeze.
While moon herself, will fly across the stars at night with grace,
And show her silver face, beguilingly on heaven's stage.
Pale moon is queen and rules our waves, she ebbs then flows white surf on tides,
The sound of paradise sublime.
Good feelings rise when she shows where, her light will steer lost souls at night,
Until deep cobalt skies once more appear.
Unbidden moon of scarlet tastes would lengthen Holy Lenten days,
Unless outcast, this Belewe moon she will BETRAY.
10 / 22 / 2015.
Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2015
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George Seal Poem
Utopian dreams of HALCYON days are blind to devilry.
Where OPULENT wealth with SONOROUS, grandiloquence,are feared by JEALOUSY.
PENUMBRA casts it's shadow dark, so prying eyes don't see the Light,
And DESULTRY whose changing ways, distracts observant eyes.
EXUBERANT spirits are deluding, masking minds from clarity.
CREPUSCULAR, earths twilight night, and eerie shades of dawn,
Where evil hides in virtues guise, as Faith then Hope and Charity.
Those VISCERAL feelings deep inside, are lampooned by pasquinades.
These sarcastic, CYNICAL tirades, arranged by evil to avert, the devil in disguise,
Who tempts with promises he will not keep, beware, be very wise.
1/ 30/ 2016.
Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2016
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George Seal Poem
The Somme, that's where true heroes fell.
No future now war is the thief.
Their sacrifice they gave in hell,
As wounded comrades stories tell.
Of those brave Pals, their war so brief.
The Somme that's where true heroes fell.
A beating drum, a screaming shell,
The blast of guns beyond belief,
Their sacrifice they gave in hell.
More gallant men, their tolling bell
Fills kith and kin, their fears with grief.
The Somme, that's where true heroes fell,
It's stench a putrid acrid smell.
Last rites were said, death gives relief.
Their sacrifice they gave in hell.
The fallen will forever dwell,
In poppy fields they lie,beneath
The Somme, that's where true heroes fell.
In Heaven now.- Released from Hell.
World War 1. The Somme France. July 1st. to November 18th. 1916.
War and Heroism
2/ 23/ 2015.
Copyright © George Seal | Year Posted 2015
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