Sound; its swept on by pureness
Soul as air-cleansing.
This night of a quick-blown rain
Drowsily healed in.
Lying abed, resonates
With that on a beach!
Though for it, shore-beat, gong-like
Vibrates, recurrent
Have affirmed, if more numb sent
Toxic depths, too, reach.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The pixie lept on sweet air,
laughter spun from golden thread.
Moon winked, and she tossed her hair.
Said, "together let's abed!
I took pixie's beguiling hands in mine,
her wings aglow like crimson twilight wine.
She laughed and spun me through fairy dust air~
romance and starlight tangled in my hair.
Oh, pixie, you glittered bright (fey delight),
your allure was so wild, so brief~
bewitching me all night
portentous thief!
bye!
Death Bed Poetry: Dylan Thomas
Alcohol and co-dependence make poor conspirators
Delivering more a life driven by inquisitors
Dylan Thomas poet and drinker
Part time lover and full-time thinker
In fading health and across the sea
He gathered himself for one last spree
The White Horse Tavern welcomed the man
And there he started his final stand
"I've had eighteen straight whiskies. I think that's the record!"
Alcohol, pneumonia, and Doctor Feltenstein were more than he could afford
Caitlin flew in to remark, "Is the bloody man dead yet?"
Comatose and failing, the bard was not quite there yet.
Still and silent, and lying abed
A few hours later and Dylan was dead
having gone "Gentle into that good night"
with no further words and such little fight.
Thus, the end of our Welsh poet Dylan
a bit of a rogue but not such a villain
who now learns Death does have dominion
in spite of the bard's differing opinion.
*Playing around with Alliteration
The sun softly shimmers with gold glimmers
Sanguine sunsets dance marvelous minuets
Before falling abed, he briefly bled
for having to close his eyes
beneath stunning skies when daylight dies
Revived, reborn each misty morn
With radiant rays, he deftly displays
his fading luminous light in flourishing flight
Nearly lost my at work because….
…yes someone has died and I think you might be
next
Turn that frown
…only if gravity changes
Are you okay
…well I was until you came closer
Can I phone anyone for you
….the hospital tell them your blood type
I again not a psychopath
but their is definitely traces
If you need a shoulder to cry on
always pick the one with a hunch
Would you like to talk
not really haven’t stopped for most of my life
The person who bought the thing
that the thought they liked
doesn’t
Sony gave away their stock vr units with the new ps5
Sorry that’s an advert in my poem
then I want a percent
Aging …………………………………my poetry
beyond the abed bird
Not having a good day
excuse me I just need to fill up my chainsaw it is in my locker
Moonlight will reign when twilight fades
Skies darken and starlight cascades
The world is poised, ready for sleep
While my heart aches, and my eyes weep
Tides continue to ebb and flow
Grief chills my life like Winter snow
Tears borne on waves into the deep
While my heart aches, and my eyes weep
Nights are long as I lie abed
Memories of us fill my head
Time moves slowly, seeming to creep
While my heart aches, and my eyes weep
In restlessness, I toss and turn
For what I have lost, I still yearn
From love we've sown, I cannot reap
While my heart aches, and my eyes weep
Muted in lament are my sighs
So no one hears my mournful cries
I pray to God, "My soul to keep"
While my heart aches, and my eyes weep
As dawn appears in morning light
I'm thankful for passage of night
Across my room, sunlight will sweep
While my heart aches, and my eyes weep
“What the heart can’t speak of, poetry does.”
Quote- Poets own
I wish I were the who I used to be
Before I began with anxiety
So much has happened to stir fear and dread
That stops me sleeping peacefully abed.
Once I was as joyful as one could be
Till worry came and stayed inside of me
I smile through each day, so one wouldn’t detect
How my heart is lurching beneath my chest.
Worry o'er my loved one, being the curse
Without whom I could not live life on earth
So much has happened health-wise through our lives
Each time I pray, please God let him survive.
I observe others have their tough times too
And I pray for God to bless those who do
I still believe in power of prayer
In the Shepherd’s guidance that's always there.
“It can’t be helped” to myself this I say
Knowing the sun will shine on me some day
Over the rainbow my raged heart will leap
The day that I feel my life is complete.
Writing poetry is therapeutic
It’s one of the reasons that I do it
Focusing on something that pleases me
May provide me the change I want to see.
I was not awakened by the drip dripping of a faucet tap
as I lay abed, stifling a yawn trying to return to sleep.
It was the soft ping pinging sound of rain drops, rap rap,
redundant chirps like a newly hatched chick's peep peep.
I heard the distant crash and boom in peals of thunder
trying to roar louder than the tick tock of the alarm clock.
I rolled over, groaning need of sleep, feeling torn asunder.
That's when I heard the unmistakable click of the door lock.
There was the swoosh from a pair of little, socked feet,
pitter pattering tiny toes on hardwood floors that creaked.
A warm breath murmured "Mommy," in a voice so sweet.
Drizzle splish splashed the windowpane, leaving it streaked.
My sleepy child snuggled in my arms, both of us drifting in dreams
when the shrill ring ring of my cell phone started to chime.
The vibrating mmm mmm refused my dance with moonbeams.
Kitty sashayed into the room, "Meow meow. It's feeding time."
The sun falls into the ground once more
As has happened the day before
How content I may appear
But please, look between the looking glass
Please, you must look past
Past my facade, Im trapped inside my mind
The circumference of my skull is my cage
Im running out of precious time
I see no chance of escape
A mind of madness, they call it
And so I would agree
My failures regularly consume me
I cannot keep from wondering when it will end
My mirage of mirrors, ceasing quickly as it began
How tender youth aid and abed my delusion
But with age comes confusion
But with age comes heartbreak
But with age comes responsibility
But with age comes headache
Yes, they say misery loves company
And it does, for I do
And one day I may speak those words to another
Our tender love anew
So we may dance together
And my thoughts may consume him too
In the book of Daniel there is a story told
The story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego
King Nebuchadnezzar made a decree
At the sound of the music, fall down and worship the gold idol or you will see
A fiery furnace will be your fate
Get on your knees before it's too late
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego refused to worship the gold idol, no way
Our God, whom we serve can deliver us from the fiery furnace, we will not obey
Into the fiery furnace they were thrown
However, King Nebuchadnezzar saw they were not alone
The king said there is a fourth man like the Son of God
They are NOT hurt in the midst of the fire where they trod
The King said Shadrach, Meshach, Abed-Nego come here
Their bodies the fire did not seer
As they came from the furnace door
Their garments were as before
King Nebuchadnezzar said, Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego
Who sent and angel to protect them because they trusted God I know
Any people or nation who about their God say anything amiss
Will be cut to pieces because No other God could have saved them like this
All but vanished but now revivified
The old stone mansion...
Where the last surviving member of the rich family died
New grown roses lie there abed
Pink for women, yellow for gents...
For children, orange and red
The family cemetery remains- in which all who have passed
Old and moss covered 'cept the old man "Luther's"
'Cause he died...the last
Refurbished with paint- the old mansion looks new
There's a stone plaque on the new lawn
A remembrance- for all the friends they once knew
A new family resides there now- known as the "Proctor's"
A newlywed couple...
Whose both parents were doctors
The wife is a painter, the husband is a hard-working roofer
Her name is "Rose"
His name is "Luther"
This or That, Vol 14 Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Edward Ibeh
10/25/2022
Redbird and the blue,
lend songs while I'm still abed.
Dark lullabies, too!
Beautiful visitors come,
in and out of all my days.
Winter's chill breath clouded my windowpanes
Snowdrifts covered Autumn's shades of umber
I listened to music, composed in wistful strains
My family were all abed, snuggled in slumber
Nostalgic tears fell; far too many to number
My sad thoughts were replaced by a smile
as I staunched the swell that freely flowed
Grateful for my blessings, now and erstwhile
for upon me God's grace has been bestowed
I closed my eyes, praying as candles glowed
December 13, 2021
Winter Quintain Contest
Hosted by Francine Roberts
Daybreak arose when night had passed
Lush meadows mantled with drops of dew
Craving, I eagerly broke the morning fast
and eagerly reached my arms out for you
Our hunger sated, but we lingered abed
Once again, we were starving to death
What lies between us are silken threads
of love and whispers with sighing breath
My sleep is dream-filled now --
imagined scenes, practiced dialogues,
fervid comments, loving words --
never-voiced retorts.
I resist awaking, lie in bed
clinging to a dream world --
and to that mind-constructed me
within it -- to that better, truer self,
an ached-for rosy apparition.
Do not disturb my slumber --
let me lie abed and smile
until this waking world conforms
to the ideal one I build
in dreams.
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