Fog settles on the tombstones. In the dark, an eerie blue,
the graveyard is a misty ocean Raven passes through.
She stops. The solitary site is grim, devoid of sound.
Her long black gown, a ruffled slip, is satin sweeping ground.
Her sable locks lie smooth and straight across her graceful back.
Stark contrast is her alabaster skin to hair pitch-black.
This woman - with a beauty that forever captivates -
now stands, a pistol in her hand, and there steadfastly waits.
Since told the man that she adores (who left some time ago)
lies buried here, the woman’s come, for Raven has to know!
She can’t believe that he could be here in this place of doom.
He’d left for war before they’d barely been a bride and groom.
As Raven looks out on the sea of mist, her eyes have teared
because those birds that bear her name have suddenly appeared.
A sign it has to be, she thinks. The ravens drawing near
are circling above one stone. Her heart is seized with fear.
Now Raven walks to where the birds are circling above.
She pales. . . The stone she’s reading bears the name of her true love.
The fog, a sea engulfing all, has swallowed Raven too.
Gun raised, she drops down to his grave; she knows what she must do.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
Person of colour is coherently germane,
He is never insane.
Some things about this person of colour may seem strange,
He is simple and he is yet to engage.
This person of colour loves the critics,
It is from them, he ticks.
This person of colour is natural,
And so, he is not a trial.
This person of colour loves to exchange
Ideas beyond his range.
This person of colour loves keyboard,
Tis with this he comes on board.
This person of colour is a charcoal- a black beauty.
This person of colour is me.
Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013
There is a spirit that watches over you
In the daylight hours, and nightime too.
You may not think that they are there
But there is a way to make you aware.
I learned the name of my angel a long time ago
Because I was interested and I wanted to know.
His name is "Maximus" and is with me here
To learn of his presence once made me fear.
Because what you do is watched all the day
The angel keeps tabs, God finds out that way.
I guess you think I'm being naive
Trust your faith, if you believe.
If you want to know your angel's name
There is a way to find out which is no game.
Say a prayer for three days in a row
And after each time ask him to reveal his name to you.
If you believe in him he will tell you true
If not, he may be silent to you.
I know of others who have tried this I can say
Some, have learned the names of their angels this way.
When you pray for their name do not think it absurd
Some, I know, will hear that singular word.
It won't come as a shout from heaven on high
But rather as a whisper, when your angel is nigh.
These spiritual beings are here for us all
Sometimes they wait just to here us call.
And when you do wouldn't if be grand
If you knew the spirit's name...who behind you stands!
Try it and see if you think I'm fooling around
Be honest with yourself with both feet on the ground.
As someday that spiritual angel you will greet
Wouldn't it be nice to be on a "first name" basis when you meet?
And if you try but do not hear their name
Keep on trying because your conviction was lame.
I know many will think I'm crazy with this
But knowing my angel's name has brought comfort and bliss.
So try it yourself and see if in kind
If your angel will speak to you...they really don't mind.
Because then a dialogue with them you can share,
Even if they never speak again, you'll know...they're there.
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
What is true love really all about?
Lets break it down and check it out
True love is about the highs and lows
Learning to live and learning to grow
Learning to give all that you have got
And never thinking, “like it or not”
It’s about changing the person you are
And never letting things go to far
True love is about a faithful friend
One who helps your heart to mend
Someone with which you can relate
Look to the stars and plan your fate
It’s about honesty and it’s about trust
Has little or nothing to do with lust
I once was lost with a barren soul
Then an angel made me her goal
She helped me face all of my fears
Never failed to understand my tears
She has stood by me through it all
Helped me to stand proud and tall
Taught me to live without addiction
Helped to heal my every affliction
Gives me the desire to rise above
Be all I can in the name of love
Written for Antoinette to enter
into John's "Love Contest."
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2010
“Susanna” is the traditional name
The first granddaughter who came
Shared with my grandmother and mum
Named “Suzette” – confusing to some
My school chums called me “Suzie”
I’ve never been known to be a floozy
The teachers called me by my surname
For my sisters’ errors, I took the blame
Proud of my family name, “Myburgh”:
“My town”, pronounced “(Chris de) Burgh”
An impressive family crest adorn
The hallway – from titled family born
The wine farm, Meerlust : “Pride and joy”
For ten generations is has been their toy
"Honour" is the byword of our kin
To break it is frowned upon – a sin
I got married at the tender age of twenty
Suitors to choose from, there were plenty
From a very noble Dutch stock I came
With English blood I had tarnished the name
Alas, as foretold, this union did not last
I had become in each family an outcast
When I mentioned the word “Divorce”
My family recommended a different course
Shame on the family name I must not bring
To their piper I must dance and sing
Thirty years later I plucked up the courage
I left an abusive marriage before carnage
My parents by then dead and buried
The Divorce Degree successfully carried
I plucked up the courage to be alone
For the loss of my identity I now atone
Freedom never tasted so sweet
With open arms I rushed to meet
All the things I could not freely express
My worth and measure of being less
Being able to read a good book
And to eat what I want to cook
To run at dawn on the cold beach
With sand and seagulls that screech
Laughter and love of all perceived
The loss of all that I have grieved
The sunsets have now come alive
To embrace love and a new life
“Su” is now my new given name
A poet who feels no more shame
For a FREE download of The Flight, which deals with the point of breakup, please visit:
Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2013
Injustice has a name!
Twenty years in prison, detained because he refused to kill
his fellowman in wartime, was against his conscience and will.
Twenty years in prison, arrested without real cause
freedom of conscience there, means nothing at all.
Twenty years in prison, not even charged with committing a crime
With the whole world watching, now they are running out of time.
Twenty years in prison, without even having had a trial
Without any human dignity, experiencing all that is vile.
Twenty years in prison, he's languishing in squalor
government officials not answering, they have no valor.
Twenty years in prison, even warned by the UN and others
but they keep on arresting even children and grandmothers.
Twenty years in prison, subsistence living, no healthy diet
what if it happened here, would everyone keep it quiet?
Twenty years in prison, the world says enough is enough!
Yes injustice has a name...it's called ERITREA!
John Derek Hamilton
Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2016
Lost living among'st the shadows of dreams
An echo softly holds a gentle stillness
As a vision grows dimly lit holding flames
From troubles burning within chambers deep
I raise my eyes towards the mountain peaks
Winds softly echoing your voice inside the rain
One charmer who cast such cunning spells
Through a galaxy where time dances with the stars
Spirit of eternal peace and love falls uniquely pure
Into the arms of your goodness a picture develops
Drunken soul of a sailor sings to the night sky
Lament of a seagull cries eternally over waves
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016
“Oh Emma, my cherished and unholy soulmate;
Woman of air! Raw phrases leap with love and hate.
Behind glasses seethes a romantic, daring the night
August child of gothic verse, lines we all recite.
Yet , when soirees roll, your flame the men desire;
It surprises me how that glance changes like fire!
In class, we ignite our teachers’ ire with naughty quirks
Creating romps as the batch mimes our theatrics.
Tonight, we pluck more wild seeds of younger memoirs
Still coloring our lives as time waits for girl- hours.”
* Emma is a dear friend way back in college. As an activist,
writer, and down-to-earth woman, she graduated with cum laude
honors. We regularly meet up to bond and nourish our friendship.
Emma Contest of Juli-Michelle
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
His praises are upon my lips and shall forever be
what He has done for me some will never see.
The breath of life He breathed into me
made me His for all eternity.
Life He created and placed on Earth
some have dragged in the dirt.
The raging sea which gave other the cold chill
He commanded by stating, "Peace Be Still!"
the hungry gathering multitude
He fed with five fish and loaves with loving gratitude.
At the wedding of Canaan He turned water into wine
many drank and thought it was just fine.
He walked upon a deep sea with blue water
which some may have tried thereafter.
To the blind He gave their sight
they praised His name and made things right.
Many rushed to touch His garment
for their actions He rendered unto them an achievement.
Those who were lame and unable to walk
He touched and they stood up and talked.
His words were His bond and awakened many people
today His words are heard from buildings with steeples.
His love brought everlasting life unto many
one may even call it the light of an epiphany.
His grace saved the souls of many going astray
being saved by His grace they knelt down and started to pray.
His loving touch felt like a soothing and healing balm
many upon feeling His soft hand their hearts became calm.
He stood still and commanded, "Lazarus Come Forth!"
those who were present witnessed an awesome rebirth.
On the eyes of a blind man He rubbed clay
he received his sight and praised Him all day.
He was and still is the Savior and Miracle Worker
unto many souls He is forever their Caretaker!
© Joseph S. Spence, Sr., 8/8/09
© All Rights Reserved
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2009
Untimely death, why come so near
To taunt my soul with mortal fear.
I cannot go – so unprepared
So full of life and yet so scared.
The world’s held nothing for me but strife
And yet, O god, I cling to life.
A fatherless boy in a Gorbals slum
Who owes his being to a tot of rum.
The industrial school with its air of blame,
The endless fight to renounce its shame.
And then the slump with its hunger march
That swept its way to Admiralty Arch.
The years of depression without any hope
With nothing to do but sit and mope.
The look of misery in the children’s eyes
With nothing to offer but bread and lies.
The relief of war and work at last
A future for those who had no past.
Must I lose it now, with scarce a taste
Of the honeyed joy in the desert waste;
Must the death knell come as my life began
To a forgotten link in the chain of man?
Copyright © May Fenn | Year Posted 2015
THIS IS HOW LIFE FEELS WHEN YOU GET TO BE MY AGE
I have a general philosophical precept
Life is in general a bowl of cherries except
When someone stabs me in the back who didn’t oughta
From a completely unexpected quarter
I mean it’s ok if some dude whom I don’t like or trust
Has a go at me and feels he must
But if my wife tells me I continually bug her with my fidgets
And then she runs off with a team of one-legged circus midgets
Or my kids sell their hand-bound volumes of my poems
To buy a ton of horse manure to mix with the garden loams
And even the cat turns down my offer of warm milk
To go next door and sleep on sheets of silk
Or if a poetry contest excludes me simply because my name
Is unacceptable, maybe because I am black, or lacking in fame,
Or because I’m Methodist, and gay, and Republican, and from East Lansing,
Then I say to myself, well here’s the thing:
If, along with my poem entry, I’ve slipped in fifty bucks,
Well then how can I be excluded? I mean shucks -
Rules is rules but when I’ve already paid to be in the winners’ list
I feel I have the right, and I just gotta insist,
Cos midgets and fidgets don’t amount to squat
And sheets of silk or loads of horse manure is a lot
But my name’s my pride and joy and I am proud to add it
(But I fear to do it again in this contest or I’ve had it),
So in this contest I will remain anonymous
Though I guess the details writ here are just about synonymous
With a name I do not dare speak - at risk of exclusion
But I’m pretty sure this extra fifty bucks will lessen the confusion.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written - with great affection - for
Nancy Jones's Contest "This is how life feels when you get to be my age..."
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2012
If you are robin, you are good.
If even you are Hood.
Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014
Your Last Name
Early morning sun and I soon arissed
Brother were both of us so surprised
Through my window started shining in
Another poem appeared in my mind again.
Was pretty soon when I started to suspect
That I would come up with one more subject
Appearing out of no where just for only me
Wanting for me to written down carefully.
Words apparently wanted to start and flow
At that instant desired to grow and grow
Into great poem who by God was blessed
And to give Him credit He always stressed.
Thanked God who received all of the credit
After I even let and allowed Him to edit
Heard Him say as into night He did disappear
Are you sure your last name isn't Shakespeare?
Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015
For the One I Know
In the ray of the rising sky
Will I raise my voice to the Most High
To glorify His Gracious name
The one that is never the same
With anything or bear by lords or gods.
On kneel will I affirm that no gods
Like Him. He is pure, He is One
And will remain Holy One in town.
His mercy cut across Whole clan
He mold. His Glorious vein... and His 'can'
Makes Him the Ever-living Superior
Being. While all remain inferior
Of everything a nation or society
Can claim. He maintains unequivocal entity
In history, as far as minds know
And as far as ancestors flow;
No Wisdom will... or surpassed His
“Being” and “Being Not”, which is of His
Understanding, the why- no one overrules Him.
Signs… and knowledge is Him,
That no mission and vision mask His bowls:
The why His “Be” and “Be not” is beyond owls.
At the climax of the caressing heavens
Will I not retreat to bow, and will bring on His evens
To the navel, the sea, the fountain, the soil…
And by His Grace will I cease not but toil
And eat joyfully from my earnings;
To equally appreciate my bearings,
And confer respect and honor -the glue-
To whom, He stressed and concurred, is due…
For God, and only Him will I not stop being loyal…
And will I not complain… with little or no royal.
I pray at the verge of collapse:
An alternating moment of taps,
Should I not, get tired of exalting His names.
For He’s Ever-worthy of His names;
Deserving is He to be glorified -the loving good God;
And Worthy is He to me -the Almighty God.
Will I not: I will not
Should I not: I should not
For: Suzanne Delaney's 'Let's Be Open' Contest.
Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013
Truth and Light can still make this country really thrive;
even if it seems like the spirit of this country died.
Don't give up fighting, prosperity is still here.
In His Name we have to stand, and in His name there's no fear!
Copyright © Brandee Augustus | Year Posted 2010
She colored my eyes red
She's broken, filled with dread
She looked into my eyes
Through glass that made a disguise
And cried me a solemn lullaby
When I said hello she said goodbye
She took my hand in hers
She healed the scars of spurs
She held onto me, her song
Of loneliness, far too long
I look into those eyes
And see through the red disguise
See through the shattered glass
Through the blubbered mass
She colored my eyes red
Her soul striving, her body dead
But living all the same?
Confusion is her name
Copyright © Juli- Michelle | Year Posted 2012
The house name is Hello Kitty
Bet you think thats very witty
But to live with all of this is not witty
If I was rude I would say its shytee
Let's start at the top of this fine house
Its covered with Hello Kitty right down to the mouse.
It has curtains and bed covers cushions and sheets
Then the dressing gown and p.j. make it complete
The towels, all bathroom items all have this print
Even the soap didn't escape this restraint
We sit on Hello Kitty chairs and eat off the plates
that has the face, of this darned cat, no escape
Wears tee shirts and jeans, bearing this theme
Even the trainers are groaning under this scheme
The car is pink, smellies are guess what
Kitty seat covers are covering every spot
It all looks O.T.T. a little looks great
But when your name is Boxer funny it aint
Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2012
Joy to the world is a precise name
For this poet named Joy of little known fame
For joyful I am with the Lord as my guide
With a Christian heart and a smile a mile wide
I sing His praises, confess his name
Worship the One who is without blame
So “Joy to the world, the Lord is come”*
Songs about His birth really make me hum
This is one side of me that you might see
But another exists, if you will permit me
“Singing joy to the world, to all the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me”**
Jeremiah, the bullfrog inspired me to collect a few
Frogs of green and one that was big and bright blue
Now many years later and many frogs, too
The funny side of me comes shining through
I love to laugh and try to bring pleasure
To enjoy this life and to give without measure
To honor the name my blessed parents gave
To have lots of fun, but still try to behave
Life is to live and to love, this is true
So put a little joy to the world in your life, won’t you
*(Music from Handel, words from Isaac Watts, 1719)
**(Three Dog Night 1971~words and music by Hoyt Axton)
Copyright © Anita Lovelace | Year Posted 2005
River Severn’s now a fishing spot.
Two centuries ago it was not.
The cradle of industrial revolution
Rocked fastest here - Iron construction
Arching proud - Telford’s bridge was born
Among the elder and the hawthorn.
Coal mines, furnaces, stony quarries,
Early train-tracks - sooty glories.
Now the river sweeps silent south
From hilly birth to ending mouth.
Smoke and soot have had to cease
River Severn has returned to peace
Ironbridge is the name of a small town on the River Severn
in Shropshire, England. It derives its name from the famous Iron Bridge, built 1779.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2010
They came disguised as angels to one He had forgave
To make him fall unfaithful and drag him to the grave
He did not drink the water in Hell the night before
Would not deny the Father and bravely fought that war
Had seen the fiery ocean and kissed the lame man’s feet
Held tight the weeping woman and watched the demons eat
A man with pitch-black eyes said, “they love the world they’re in.”
“They believe the ancient lie and you will never win.”
He then became a cobra with two heads in the sand
“Forsake the name Jehovah or never leave my land.”
With God’s Word the serpent fell he’s said to say, “Not here.”
With the Lord departed Hell without defeat or fear.
Safely in the living world believing all was won
Shared this with a kindred soul but Satan was not done
Something strong was drawing near sons sleeping in their beds
“If I fight this battle here by morning I’ll be dead.”
When all was calm they came back pretending to be friends
Offered gifting for attack to be God’s champion
“Lay on back and let us work. We will anoint you now…”
“Do not fear, it will not hurt, before you we all bow.”
It was pleasure uncompared, sensations, oh so great!
Demons had him in their snare and now it was too late.
Frantically, he tried to stand they pulled him toward the ground
Pulled them off with their bare hands but could not keep them down
Fervent prayers in Jesus’ name to bind their hands and feet
Laughing, dragging, their own chains they pawed defenseless meat
Answered prayer, the Lord was there He said, “No drop of blood”
“Anything but death is fair, He’ll praise me, drought or flood”
Morning would be coming soon then surely they’d be gone
Struggling in the light of moon he longed to see the dawn
Then there was no fight inside I said, “Your will be done.”
Closed my eyes as if to hide I could no longer run
Thank you God, I’m still alive You did not let them win!
Praise the Lord Oh God on High! My Abba, Maker, Friend.
Copyright © Shane Pierce | Year Posted 2012
With nimble-fingers braids the midnighter mare killing a long horn steer single-handed with bladed care Chief Victorio's well chosen was called his right hand a single woman yet revered fought strong as man Of enemies and friends as cunning she wore the boast as a Brave the woman warrior rode braver than most not frozen by fear of the battle braving regaining lost ammo with her arms outstretched a chant a seer as with Geronimo Circling with power where the enemy was and how many told Lozen was a shield for her people as the woman warrior rode
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
BY ANY OTHER NAME
Turned-down petals ready for kissing. Her glove
So velveteen; and with unseen love
A teardrop of silver dews on her gentle curve nigh
In hope that a lover may pass close by.
I hesitate to touch so fragile a creature
For she may be the last of summer,
In a once jostling garden proud and crowded within.
Her bouquet is subtle, is freshly-washed skin:
I feel the perfume of her soaped damask
On the warm air of evening. She does not ask
As the sun withdraws his glowing approval,
But here I remain - her only admirer and thrall.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in Poet ~ Destroyer’s Contest “ any rose will do. ....... (poems of roses contest)”
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2012
To invent something,
that's just AN aim,
but THE aim is to
give it your name.
Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014
Four pills line the counter, cold and pasty blue
Something pushed you, something scared you
Life handed you a shovel, told you to dig deep
With all your pills then lay yourself down to sleep
I was screaming for you, I was crying for you
If I wake up in the morning and don’t know what to do..
Fear makes me, am I running out of options
Moving too fast forward, head on collisions
They strapped me in a jacket, you’ve broken me
Who would have thought this is the taste of insanity?
Did they taste good on the way down I wonder?
As the anesthetics took you under?
Copyright © Rhia Madison Thomer | Year Posted 2010
Elie Saab creates haute couture
For women who are silm, demure
It’s not for rolly polly me
With little bulges you can see
Elie Saab is my hero bright
He lights up the red carpet night
He dresses are simply divine
But oh…not a one can be mine
I’ve got no cash for such finesse
Plus..I won’t fit the lovely dress
So here is how I live the dream
I spray his perfume in a stream
Once I tried his amazing scent
It clung to me where’re I went
Oh, but it carried a high price
To have it would be more than nice
Valentine’s Day… what did I see?
A present waiting there for me
Hubby and daughter shared a look
As I unwrapped, my fingers shook
“Oh, God please, help me not cry
If Elie Saab won’t meet my eye”
There it was in its glory fine
Elie Saab perfume, it was mine!
Now Elie Saab is what I wear
The scent makes me able to dare
For it makes me feel quiet sublime
So sexy in “couture” so fine!
Eileen Manassian Ghal
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
Striped of your name and trained to kill
Put a glaze over your eyes and war-forge skill
Suit you in armor and give you a gun
expect you to follow orders but you run
Part of the crew 49 all standing
awaiting the chance to escape the Landing
the machines try to stop you but your to good
your wits are sharp and do what you should
The delta shield scratched into your metal
you can crush the world like a rose petal
you live in a world of lies
but you can change it this time
but you know what you must do
you should fight for what's true
you are the Agent that got away (the only one who has)
Arkansas is your name (the world rests in your grasp)
Copyright © Ryan Emerald | Year Posted 2010
I’m sorry I’m letting go
We’re both drowning below
Deep into an abyss of confusion
We’ve enjoyed every moment, but merely an illusion
Please, my one, please, baby understand
I will always be the one to hold your hand
Even if you’ll turn your back as doubt prevails
I will always see beyond your anger and wails
Forgive me, but I have to let go
The reason is of this we might never know
Baby, in your name
A martyr I became
Without regret or gain
I’m letting go, immersed in pain
Baby, in your name
I extinguish my flame
My heart will shatter forever
But your happiness I won’t sever
On this path you have to travel
Make me proud and my agony will unravel
True as always, I say “baby, I love you,
And, adieu, my one and only, adieu”
Copyright © Dima N. | Year Posted 2009
I hear the angels calling my name
Away from those devils not easy to tame,
Away from the sins that shape the earth,
Away from Satan laughing with mirth.
I hear the angels calling my name
Away from cupid’s faulty aim,
Away from a love that did not last,
Away from the horrors of an undying past.
I hear the angels calling my name
Away from a routine that is always the same,
Away from a life filled with despair,
Away from a heart broken beyond repair.
Yes, I hear the angels calling my name
Away from my troubles, Away from my shame,
Away from my loss, Away from my pain,
Away from my faults, only peace to now gain.
Copyright © Michelle Southers | Year Posted 2008
Now it was Kay’s first tournament day
And he was competing in London away
Arthur had forgotten his brother’s sword
And was in trouble with his Lord
In search of a sword he wondered alone
And there found a blade buried in stone
He pulled on the hilt, and slid out the shaft
Arthur gave out a joyous laugh
He ran back filled with glee
And gave him the sword he’d found for thee
His brother read the message aloud
Drawing in a confused crowd
Whoever withdraws the sword from this stone
Would be crowned King and succeed the throne
Many men tried and failed this task
But Arthur fulfilled his destiny at last
The crowd thronged and wanted to know
Who pulled the sword free from the stone
“It was I, it was I”, Arthur replied
Then you shall be King they all cried
Arthur was crowned by St.Dubricius
He was only fifteen, and vigorous
But the local kings would not agree
And formed an alliance against He
But Merlin was on Arthur’s side
And became his confidante and guide
He led him to a glorious lake
With a sorceres Lady for his name sake
Enchanting a spell, it's power restored
Blessed by the Gods, whom mystically forged
She named the sword Excalibur
Fit for a king and a mighty warrior
Then Arthur did battle with all the kings
He defeated them all, and did mighty things
With Excalibur always by his side
He won many battles and survived
Camelot became Arthur’s home
A grand royal palace for his throne
Leodegrances daughter did he court
A princess from another’s fort
Her name was Guinevere
Arthur loved and drew her near
In time he asked for her hand in marriage
King Leodegrances supplied a splended carriage
© Copyright 24th December 2010 K.C.Leake
Copyright © kevin leake | Year Posted 2010
Same Last Name
Being married seems like such a great game
Maybe because we both have same last name
Which really is a warped word to the wise
In cemetery we are both easy to recognize.
To many facts I so often have been resigned
When I woke up with this poem on my mind
Then wrote down after thinking about it a lot
Down to last sentence that ended with a dot.
Things start with beginnings to reach an end
And it all goes to show you and does depend
Longer you live while loving will not regret
The great time had after you two first met.
Marriages will reach an end after we die
And no matter how hard we try and try
More your desires and hopes start to match
You know you ended up with a perfect catch.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015