and she said
Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams
but today I live in my daughter's happiness
All my goals I left behind to watch her reach her own
All my friends I do not see,to stay with her at home
Money might get tight,but what is money
compared to pure joy of a child
What is money compared to her almond eyes
Success lies dormant on shelves for years to come
But what is success compared to first giggles
to first steps, first mouthfuls and her little grabs
Compared to gurgles and babbles
to first time she calls me mama
and hold on to my hands
What is beauty in the world compared to a pearl
This innocent child,a coloured coral petite pretty girl
Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams
But today I live in my daughter's happiness
I had my days of wine and chocolate eclaires
roses on doorstep,unsigned love letters
with spiced cologne and enticing words
Today I live in my daughter's shadow
To watch her live her own dream
I watch her bloom in autumn gardens
from princess of hearts become queen
Tomorrow I will not be here
She might not get to see the white of my hair
the wrinkle in my smile
But,today she knows I love her
long more after petals wither
long more after a mother's hug fades
long after I shine from the sky.
Dedicated to my beloved Christina with love
Happy first birthday wrapped with barney hugs
and Winnie the pooh kisses :-$:-|B-)
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2013
I looked up at a silver moon
Peering through a cloud of misty gloom
As we sailed across the Atlantic Sea
That fateful night in June
And as I stood upon the bow
A furrow crossed my troubled brow
When I saw a dying star fall from the sky
As the wind out of the north
Began to cry
'Twas then with fearful heart
I came at last to realize
That we were sailing
On a wave of ill-tidings
Known as 'The Devil's Tide'
For no omen of the sea
Brought more fear than thee
A fallen star - a silver moon
Together in the month of June
If legend true would surely bring us doom
So with no trace of land in sight
We sailed onward through the night
I - the Captain 'Louie Lou'
With my faithful crew
Aboard the 3 mast schooner 'Angel - of the Blue'
On canvas wings we flew
Upon the wailing wind that blew
Then suddenly a hush of malaise
Crushed the summer night
Filling all the crew with dreadful fright
As all the stars in heaven lost their light
And the silver moon dipped completely out of sight
Leaving us to drift without guidance
To our unknown plight
An eerie sound began to roll out of the west
Growing louder and louder as we held our breath
Until it was upon us and the ship began rise
As we looked in horror into the Devil's eye
As the Angel of the Blue began to fly
Up the Devil's breast she climbed 20 fathoms high
One by one the Angel's wings were torn away
As she fought to save us from the Devil's rage
Screams of horror falling from her timber sides
As the crew fell into the Devil's tide
And I - tethered to the helm - watched them die
As we climbed even higher into the Devil's eye
And as the Angel's body creaked and cracked
We finally scaled the crest and rode upon the Devil's back
Just before I fainted and my world went black
I woke up in the morning high on a mountain side
Never knowing just how I had survived
knowing only that my Angel and my crew had died
Many years have come and gone since then
And I am forever haunted by each and every one of them
My faithful crew and my mighty 'Angel of the Blue'
I see their faces in my dreams
As I awaken to their screams
Wishing, too - that I had died
But someone had to live
To tell the tale of the 'Devil's Tide'.
Author: Elaine George
Entry for contest: Legends
Awarded: First Place
Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2007
She danced with wild abandon
she danced without a care
With sun kissed skin, her arms flung wide
Wild flowers in her hair
I chanced upon this secret glade
while walking early morn
A sacred aura surrounded it
a jewel in the dawn
A type of place where angels dwell
A place of Hopes and Dreams
A magic place of lush green plants
And sparkling bubbly streams
I drew back lest she saw me, I dared not break the spell
The Autumn leaves swirled round her and to the ground they fell
Like homage to a Goddess, that she must surely be
For Gods to but gaze on not mortals such as me
She twirled around so fast I could barely see her feet
And even though I stood afar I knew she gave off heat
Then her tempo slowed right down the air became quite chill
The Elements were but her slaves, she ordered them at will
I could have watched forever so mesmerized was I
What would I give to dance with you I murmured with a sigh
To dance with wild abandon with this Angel from above
A hundred birds would sing out loud to watch us Dance To Love>
This story continues in my Poem arrangement 'The Sequel - Dance to Love - Part 2'
Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017
They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A doer of good deeds.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
Believing he saved
From a long, cold walk,
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.
Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013
She was the smallest of all the angels
although all the other angels were at
least five feet tall,
Susie the angel was no larger than a Barbie doll.
She was by far the cutest of all the Angels
but little Susie was a little sad this Christmas Season.
She had wings that's for sure, so she could reach
the top of Christmas trees but the toppers
were always too heavy which made Susie sad.
She spoke to the other Angels about it
of course they all offered to help her.
Susie explained she was thankful
but she really wanted to do it on her own.
That's when it happened Susie
right then and there became the first
Angel to shed a tear.
She had turned so no one saw,
but Susie felt badly.
The next day while alone Susie
thought of her troubles and it happened
again, except this time it was many tears.
"Wait" Susie thought "my tears sparkle".
So she thought more about her sadness.
More and more tears flowed.
That is when Susie realized this was all meant to be.
The next morning Susie visited her favorite homes
as she flew over the trees and spread her tears.
From that day on their were changes.
All Christmas trees would sparkle with
the glitter of Susie's magic.
Susie wasn't sad at all she wasn't even crying.
She had been picked to be the Christmas Angel.
The one that made all trees sparkle.
Now Susie no longer worried about placing toppers.
To honor Susie changes were made to Christmas trees.
They were topped with a star that resembled her tears
or a small Angel just like Suzie, one that made
the whole tree glitter.
Sponsor: Carol Eastman
Contest Name: Children's Christmas or Holiday Tale
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014
Thorns tearing as a soul cries out
For a magic star to appear in the Heavens
Lost in the silver of the moon face
alone inside a chandelier
star lighting crystals a rainbow of love
In each teardrop one star falls
Within thoughts dust a trail
falling water sparkling over jewels glistening
in each and every wish granted
Shimmering silver treasure
falling in love you are so beautiful
sweetly beyond this world and the next
Twinkling behind dazzling sparkles
jewels of everlasting happiness
bliss will be the joy it brings
in never ending beauty sings
Each a warm fluttering inside wings
blushing ruby red lips kissing desire
deeply turning keys passion hotly breathes
Warm with a fire burning bright
flames openly embracing you love
softly and tenderly sighs sweetly
Touching this dream a gentle warm glow
holding the heart open
to one stunning beauty of a queen
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2014
I have dreamed so many dreams of life in Texas
Of cowboys and of the history I'd find there
So many hours I have been driving
but all I see are oil wells everywhere .
Long dusty roads and lorries hauling
Miles and miles of heavy industry
but just as I felt my spirit falling
A vision of loveliness appeared to me .
Calling to fill my car with fuel
Perhaps a diet coke to quench my thirst
Sat behind the counter on a stool
An angel giggled as I cursed .
She was so pleased that I was from England
She said my accent sounded like a song
She listened intently to my story
Then bluntly told me where I'd been going wrong .
There's a nice hotel in town if you are staying
You can pick me up at seven by the door
You're a nice guy but I hope you don't mind me saying
No guy ever needed my help more .
I drove her to that honky tonk at seven
Those jeans so tight I swear they're made of paint
With every word she spoke I felt I was in heaven
Those green eyes would make the toughest cowboy faint.
We danced then I sang her a ballad
My rendition of always on my mind
We kissed and we talked for hour on hour
Never have I met anyone so kind .
I walked her safely to her front door
A ranch style house on a leafy avenue
She gave the kind of kiss that shook me to my core
The strangest most beautiful woman I ever knew .
In the days that followed I found Texas
It was everything I ever thought it could be
and all the while my wonderful honky tonk angel
Was right there sharing every sweet moment with me .
Copyright © DARREN WATSON | Year Posted 2014
Angles of Mercy
Kevin L Fairbrother
There is not to many of us that can say that the owe their existence on this earth to a Native in a Foreign country, in my case I can say that without the help of the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels of New Guinea, I would not be here to write this
My Father served with the Australian Imperial Forces in the Middle East, New Guinea and Borneo, a sapper in the engineers his service with the AIF overseas was over a period of 4 years.
The time my father served in New Guinea fighting against the invading Japanese has great consequences for me as I was conceived not long after his return to Australia and back home to Tasmania.
My father along with thousands of diggers who served in New Guinea, suffered not only from the Japanese forces but from internal diseases that were rife at the time, the mosquito spread Malaria and Gengy fever and the climate of New Guinea and poor sanitation spread Dysentery throughout the camps.
A big push by Japanese forces pushed the diggers back into the hills and forests and as the numbers of sick and wounded were growing at a very fast rate, the Generals decided that they had to find a way to get the sick and injured back to Port Moresby.
The only way down from the steep mountainess jungle was via an old supply trail used by the natives to sell their wares at Port Moresby, It became known as the Kokoda track and to this day many thousands of people trek this notorious track to relive the past and to familiar themselves with the torturous and dangerous trail of misery and death and to pay homage to the Fuzzy Wuzzy angels act of sheer strength and perseverance to carry and support the many sick and injured, the dead and dying to a place of safety at Port Moresby.
Even as the column of misery descended down the track the Aussie diggers were fighting the Japs in a rear guard action, this hard fought battle turned the tide for the Japs were beaten back and even though many diggers were killed and injured it was a turning point in the war against the Japanese invaders.
Thousands of diggers reached the safety of Port Moresby and so many owe their lives to the Fuzzy Wuzzy angles, many were shipped home, and others recovered from sickness to fight the Japanese in Borneo. My father was one of these men who helped beat back the Japanese army and have an influence in the Japanese surrender.
I salute the courage and tenacity of the Fuzzy Wuzzy angels and thank them for bringing my father to safety and eventually home. Like many diggers of World War 2 they kept their feelings and stories of war to themselves, my Father never said much about his service in the war and what little I know has been told by others.
I also salute the courage and fortitude of our diggers who kept Australia safe from invasion from the Japanese.
My Father, (rest his soul in peace) went on to have a productive working life, rearing 9 children, 6 were born after the war including me and 6 of us still survive today. The six of us born after my father returned from the war owe the native Fuzzy Wuzzy of New Guinea a big thanks for without their courage’s deed of mercy we would not be here.
ANGELS OF MERCY
Kevin L Fairbrother
Who were these men of such courage and fortitude?
Whose hair curled and matted reached for the sky
Well, muscled and full of resolve to complete the mission
To get the sick and injured Aussie Diggers home to safety
Never thinking about their own well-being or safety
The Fuzzy Wuzzy angles as they became known
Carried and supported the Diggers down the mountain
Never flinching nor feeling that they would fail the mission
Endless rain, a sea of mud, so steep hard to stand up
Raging rivers, swollen streams, impenetrable jungle
Constant darkness from the thick forest canopy
The Fuzzy Wuzzy persevered with strength and courage
On stretches, on their backs using their bodies as support
These angels carried an endless tide of sick and injured
Down the notorious Kokoda track of misery and death
Contemplating to never give up on their mission of mercy
With Japanese mortars and bullets befalling the column
As the Diggers fought a rear guard action to stem the Japs
The Fuzzy Wuzzy continued their mission down the mountain
For their job was to get as many Diggers as possible to safety
Eventually they reached the safety of Port Moresby
Largely due to the push by the Diggers to push back the Japs
The Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels were given a hero’s welcome
And to this day a revered and honored for their mission of mercy
Copyright © Kevin Fairbrother | Year Posted 2015
"Oh my God how beautiful!"
exclaimed my four year old
Granddaughter as we drove over
a small bridge and she saw
the wash with muddy flowing water.
I was reminded at that very
moment how my prayers for an
enlightened teacher were evident.
Her love spreads out like ripples in
a lake as her vibrations expand.
The colors in her aura radiate a
wisdom from many lifetimes.
An Indigo child filled with compassion,
when she speaks I listen and learn.
She sees a beauty in me I don't see.
I see in her an amazing reverent glow.
As we journey through her formative
years together, far faster than I desire,
I watch her contentment grow along with
her uninhibited vivid imagination.
It is indiscernible who is raising whom.
Her joy of living predicates why she's here,
why she has returned to another earthlife.
She is an earth angel and my blessing!
© Connie Marcum Wong
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
Oh, I'd seen the sea in many ways
I heard so many lies coming from he
darkness is a playground
for the lost and never found,
Lies is in his eyes
Lies is in his soul
Lies is all he knows
I'd seen better days
but that was sometime ago ,
Dying is the place of grace
dying is to rest your head
dying is the grave
that holds your name
its the history of who you are,
Life was slow and sad
but Dark Angel was always glad
when someone was made
I was crying alone
but again this is his darken throne,
He is the angel of all lies
He loves to make me scream
and give me a life of darken dreams
He loves to tell me stories
that will make me weep,
Dark Angel is so mean
I watch the sea turn red
I seen so many painful things
but most of all
I would hear the lies of the dark side.
Poetic Judy Emery (c)
Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2016
A world changes course
expelling the good grim reaper
entering this forbidden zone
Careless acts of violence black and white
mothers burying their children
so much tears soak the very grounds
salt of this earth
where moral order breaks down
in societies failure
A bad replacement shapeshifting demons rule
Where no longer they care about peoples suffering
removing God's teachings from schools
so our forefathers died in vain blood of our ancestors
Taking away human rights
amnesty international laugh a minute
lawless democracies without proper vision
killing without just cause tyrants bragging ill will
Without facing the justice of all lands
Murder is murder so says the judge above all
stealing is robbing without deeds aquired
laid down by the Lord on stone himself
We all know its the devil's playground now
Darkness of your souls reek with many lies told
When fancy coated words fall out vomit
from the mouths who ware suits
As that is a trademark
of the biggest robbers there is
Stealing even by stealth or forced to ground
poisionous morals killing the seed of truth
sewn from the garden of lust dark or light
Open your eyes blind beggars of hell
disfunctional greedy merchants and war criminals
alike you all sign a pact together like wolves
we see the suffering and torment of your weapons
tipped with poison blaming everyone but yourselves
Creating hate through your neverending violence
amongst the innocent victims raped of everything
God be merciful unto your rotten souls
Damning the victims with your pride filled agendas
we all become victims if we sit without a voice listen pride
Peace is the way forward that looks above and beyond
stand down dark spirits your lust knows no bounds
drunken with greed
Light of our saviour will come
one day supreme commander
I will kneel to the creator
When this earth goes into darkness again
we need to pray for salvation
no longer do we walk
but stumble in the pathway
of his loving ways
Rock of faith we stand strong
for our childrens sake
to give them a future generation
Mercy shake hands
make Eden beautiful again
The signs are coming to pass
to celebrate the happiness and joy
Heaven above the angels will sing
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016
MOONLIGHT REVELS HER PAINS
Moonlight revels her pains,
In a world of shame
where fears lay
in decay of a darken life,
in the storm of hate
where rage is always near
to all that can hear the noise
where rain of agony falls,
Oh, flowing tears
upon the Mediterranean Sea
in darken dreams;
where screams of swiftly lies
hold deep into the night,
Oh, velvet moon
you had given bright eye
in late June;
where love has fastened
to a place of faith,
Where the brittle minds
could never find;
where words of hate
comes to the trackless smiling face
that holds frozen emotions
of an ancient time,
the sky became more gray
all hearts gone numb
walking around dumb
being a bum
crying in agony of darkness,
where no love could ever be found,
where hearts are all bond;
in a place, you true decay
to all those who has lost their way,
a place to never be found,
in terror, they all did sink
but Moonlight she only has
broken wings in darken dreams.
Poetic Judy Emery © 2017
The Queen of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017
LOVE HAS DEPARTED
Departing avenging spirits
In the dead of winter
love has assumed to know all hearts
But what stands before thee
Are the cowards of the lost?
all they bring is wickedness
what has happened to true love?
Oh, tender hearts
Why did you depart into the dark?
the gentle touch of lovers’ hand
Where the beauty of spring
this old town has humiliated me
But then the knight looks and sees
His love under the leafy shade
Writing her heart away
He looks with a stunning smile
upon his face that couldn’t be removed
if she is near words of anger started to fade
but then he looked around and she was gone
His anger ragged like a villain
He looked at the cowards
that has been making war
what is it you have done?
That is when the cowards started to run
Then one of the cowards
stopped and looked back
Saying, Dark Angel is taken his queen home
There was this big hesitating chill
that moved faintly in the knights’ heart
a darken trill of the dead of winter
moved in his soul
The knight heart became cold
loneliness came from love
while the cowards of the town
laugh so loud towards the knight
he pulled out his sword
and told them if they come back
they would lose their heads
Clear, loud he stood his ground
In the old town, he called home
Wide is the rain that brings on pain
that gives free choice to all who bleeds
you can love or run from it
or you can love and fight for what your
heart beats for and will die for it
like a true ‘’ Shakespeare’’ theme
that has been written in true passion of love
that gives feverish dreams
Dark Angels, deathless powers
The knight takes on his delight
that verse how he truly feels
love is where his heart belongs
But his queen her heart is no longer function
She has disclaimed her love for thee.
Poetic Judy Emery ©
The Queen of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017
Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.
Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.
My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered.
In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised,
But it is to be called someone,
Who can be respected.
To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.
Copyright © B S Sky | Year Posted 2013
her wings do spite her
her soft lips beckon
behind them, shearing mouth does wait-
her black and white heart loves to hate
her claws tear at my flesh-
with soft hand wrapped in lacey mesh
her skin glows with light-
her scales as dark as night
my heart she handles with gentle peace-
then devours with ferocious teeth
this angel, her wings do spite her
Copyright © James Sessions | Year Posted 2013
As a stranger I met you
Pure and gentle was your appearance
You spoke a touch without words
A breeze so pure like light
As I listened with my eyes
I smelled the taste of beauty beyond honey
What a feeling?
An emotion lost within expressions?
This is an experience of Heaven's true Agape
Oh! what an experience for a lost stranger to share
A beauty whose light can't be gazed?
A gift only for the poor in spirit
Your touch, so perfect to the broken
Yes your name is Love
Your nature is perfect in quality and in glory
Yes! Eden's first language
You're that truth I can't hide
Copyright © Jacob Owusu Sarfo | Year Posted 2013
It was my turn to take care of the elephant last week.
It asked how I and the rest of humans have managed to talk to him.
It was a very interesting question and it blew my mind.
Later that day, I went back to my room after my job.
I locked the door, and crawled under my bed in a tight circular ball and started crying.
My mind was blown and I was not sure how I was going to get it back.
This was not a terrorist attack, it just happened.
To be honest, it was completely my fault, I let it happen.
The next day, I got up and spent about an hour preparing myself. I put on makeup, brushed my teeth, put deodorant, did a few readings and solved some problems, sagged my pants a little bit and put on my favorite hat. Then I went down stairs where the elephant was waiting for me.
We went for a two step.
Copyright © Elie Barongozi | Year Posted 2016
I can't imagine being alive without you
I can't imagine what it will be like when your gone
I don't know what I'll become without you
Maybe I'll just run
Run away from everything and leave everyone behind
Maybe I'll find a way to be close to you
Because I won't believe you died
My heart will ache so much more
Tears will always run
My eyes will hold the wisdom
That you bestowed upon me young
And my recklessness will be noticeable
People will wonder why
Why am I running when the person I needed most died
How can I face my life when I can't do anything right
I won't believe you have gone away
When God decides to take you
I'll still come by your house and always expect an answer
I Love You Gamma
You Taught Me About My Heritage
Please Remember Me When God Takes You
Please Guide Me In the Right Way
Copyright © Riah Clark | Year Posted 2013
uncomfortableness, and hesitation arose that you might reassess a possibility for friendship or.... whatever with me.
A disappointment set in place in the event that based on some facet of my being (inexplicable flaws within this corporeal human male), forecast that an about face (booked on charges inherent in this googly eyed, earth-linked, kool hotmail of a yahoo) would be un liked!
Juno what i mean?
In retrospect, no matter that this average boyish chap desires enjoyment, he admits that ordinary punctuating various stages of development difficulty coping found him msn (miss sin, missin, missing, et cetera) on ordinary interpersonal experiences!
No matter yours truly usually finds me each morning, noon or night conjuring up maximizing temporary residence on this planet earth versus bemoaning those futile and essentially counterproductive mind games sans could a, might a, should a, would a...
today = the moment to cherish, enjoy, help others, ponder the remaining years
since fruitless to expend tears
for suppressed emotional, financial, grammatical, hormonal, physical, and spiritual angst
that roiled mine inner sanctum - mainly from decades in the past
which unseen scars with humor this fellow (who by the way likes you) wears!
Notice the sly inclusion of my comment per -- affinity, desirability, rhapsody for you
although just but a mere inkling prevails about an ye taelje john thru
a rather contrived manner - albeit an online adult oriented website - amongst a slew
which yields to this bipedal hominid a scant few
initial responses - as if a ghost app paired in the recipient email - going boo
which unwittingly seems to turn the ivy blue!
So...no matter a constancy of follow-up electronic communiques occurs from ye
bringing tears of joy, that nobody can see
while simultaneously delivering digital glee
a reality check restrains proclivity and predilection to let thoughts run wild and free!
Immense and immeasurable mounts in moi little rock
inducing an electric arc for myself to kin neck embedded in all this schlock
for a sixth sense arises that this holme body strongly suspects yar self
to generate sunny watts as an s spy she lee Sherlock
but, reticence to gush with ebullience reins in a cascade
of utter delight washing o'er this less than satisfactory mwm
who as a boy and youth happened to b a frayed
of his own shadow - while walking along the boulevard of broken dreams
listening to the sounds of silence on a green-day.
Thus => the following from one
Cerebral being ™ in the am and pm
This ordinary human
Finds himself a mystery
Within the terrestrial
Firmament and frequently
Feels in a feverish pitch
At his existence
That seers the temple
Mounted upon this slender
Frame - wrought by the
Combination of genetics
In tandem with exercise
Which latter helps to
Sublimate the coiled
Tension wound tightly
Like an indestructible spring
Without a healthy medium at large
To channel emotions fraught within
Me might find demise
That would rent asunder literate fellow
And thus annihilate without a trace
One true valued father of two us special
Lovely lasses as just another statistic among
As the world turns (indiscriminately oblivious of the harrowing days per one simian), an agreeable, amiable, edible, immeasurable, likeable, pleasurable, sensible woman (such as yourself - predicated on a gut level intuition) goads more seriousness to share
Plaintive unheard heart strings o mine that wail
Displeased with this marriage fraught with travail
As if in a maelstrom whip-lashed vessel without a sail
Yet - averse to lambaste or rail
Against abby (whereby we pass like two ships in the night) who married this male
When each of us happened to seem more similar
And thought each ourselves to fail
At any endeavor, though now confidence
Buoys my heart while she doth ail
And exemplifies attitudes, beliefs, efforts,
Idiosyncrasies, pathos that life does rot
Ill suited to Matthew Scott,
Whose bon vivant manifesting faith in him
Perhaps from herself deferring many domestic
And child rearing tasks not
Of course being boasting - even when scissoring the umbilical cord
As a now beaming papa, whose daughters
Blithely ignore "mother" a lot
Thus necessitating this quest
For a counterpart to offer succor
To eden (age 16) and shana (14 on february 4th, 2013)
Yet accepts that i must dispel any dreamy fantasy even this ours - a mere jot
At this juncture knowing full well how unwise to set myself up for disappointment
By thinking and rushing like a fool,
Where angels fear to tread
Though "chutzpah" i got!
U r slowly filling my mindscape with joy
Thank you so much - for accepting without complaint how atypically words this writer wannabe
Named Matthew Scott Harris dozen ploy.
Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2013
The banks are bear
the cold is in this September air
streams of pain are being cast
from an old beaten down past
The castle of darken dreams
Dark Angel holds the key
Oh,he is so mean ,
Green grass by the wooden path
fair flowers among wild weeds
there are great depression along
that painful path of traps
that will over take your souls ,
Dark Angel loves to play with black magic
he cast his spells of darken
on all who sleeps
he gives the very bad dreams
to make your heart pound faster
your mind will race
the only thing you can do is scream ,
Your tears will fall
and the old red sea will flood
the old scallop leaves will fall
among darken dreams
into every inch of your mind
will play over time
you hold on to your soul
and pray to never let it go,
darkness is all around
and that will be all you can see
until Dark Angel takes his stand
and open the door
with is long key
of darken dreams
he will give wonders and worries
through out your days
to make you loss your way
to loss your faith in love,
your life will become so gray
holding so much pains
love will turn into hate
this is the life Dark Angel gave
to the heart strings of pain
of rain to flood out your tears
no soul will ever be spared
the expressions up on all faces you
can see they are in darken places
you will never see the light of faith
in their darken eyes Oh, pale , pale lips
do cry out Dark Angel shouts
Come to me Moonlight and see
what it is I have done, Dark Angel has me
pleading for him to let the others go
I am crying with the sea
because his rage is out of hand
I'm afraid and very weak to even think,
When I try to explain what I was feeling
it didn't matter to him anyways
Oh, pale lips come to me and kiss the pains
of me your King ,
Dark Angel walks over to me
I am hearing bad things I hear things
I must not speak I must stay strong and meek
but this darken place makes battle
that no one can win ,
I am in way to deep I'm losing this fight
for my own rights Dark Angel kissed me
as if he is taken the life out of me
I feel I could no longer breath
He is given me the pains
of rain of yesterdays memories
that will never go away September
will always be remember .
Poetic Lilly Judy Emery (c)
Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2016
An angel formed from
lake of purity,a gift to
darkest parts of hearts.
A chaste damsel,
untouched rose from the
garden of the elves.
Sent to earth,made an
abode in a gentleman's
cherished and loved.
As time travelled,another
fella whom she trusted
lured her to un-saintly act
Her pride laid on altar of
dishonor and infidelity.
Her life she almost
snuffed,she feared the
love of her true love
would be lost. Alas! bond
of love is indivisible.
Shattered,with a broken
spirit she tries to mend
the pieces....on the
shoulder of her lover she
leans,hoping to soothe
her bruised heart.
A true story,a close
pretty lady friend of mine
was raped by her family
called her and told her
his mum was very sick.
She called me and
confided in me .
Don't know whether to
encourage her to call the
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
I see an angel fly across the sky.
She stops and haloes Rigel,
and looks down upon me,
with answers I already knew.
Have you come to tell me no?
You will obey me but not him?
Then you come to tell the end.
You know the river that flows therein.
It pours to and from a woman,
from the dew of a million mornings.
It’s course is a circle and has no end,
with the wakes of her vessel,
drowning these eyes a deeper blue.
And as the benevolence of her intrinsics
reach to touch perfection,
they define my reverence,
writing perpetual psalms.
She is as bright and profound,
as the stars are in the heavens.
And she is just as far out of reach.
You waste these days chasing a ghost,
and have traded allotted years in envious choices.
No life in these torrents of sin.
Its waters breach seeking itself —boasting,
a season’s colors fallen from where they had been.
Because she belongs
to a Libertine who’s infidelities
run the gauntlet of durations?
Some possession to control and degrade,
her heart he keeps in a box of lies,
using the brine of soul and sorrow,
to erode grooves into her face.
Broken times before him,
mercy he always denies,
tell me he does not turn and smile.
Reprobated armor unscathed by the arrows of virtue,
a given blessing sacrificed to the deceiver,
in this season,
he has forfeited her to me.
You can decide what is negated,
despite what you read in the living truth?
Righteousness is always it’s own master,
never at the service of your exceptions.
You trespass into her covenant,
with no regard for the sacred.
Have you forgotten David?
In her eyes, I know who I see,
and that fool is far from Uriah—
Give her back what I need her to give me.
How long must she suffer?
Hanged by this obligation,
she is yoked to a corpse,
and his weight is killing her.
The Father’s grace is more than sufficient,
in the temporal trials that forge the soul,
but you damn hers in every embrace.
Words that have her stumble into your bed,
have taken days she will now not see.
You have tightened iniquity’s noose
around her heart,
tearing her soul.
It is you who is killing her.
Tell me what I feel is not a truth piercing my forever!
Tell me I am not sincere in days and dreams!
Tell me that I would forsake her!
Tell me my tears are false!
Tell me I am a liar!
You lied to yourself in believing
that love and the sins of another man,
could make you righteous in yours.
You are a thief that has betrayed
the truth fully convicted in your soul.
Before you filled your heart with the blood of this woman,
the world and favor were placed at your feet.
Selfishly holding one while trampling the other,
recklessly sacrificing your own heart,
before this season’s end.
Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2015
A pink angel
with tiny wings
fell off my Christmas tree.
She sighed on Easter Day,
on bright pink seat.
I will say hello tomorrow -
put her by the clock,
so nod her head to the steady beat.
I'll tell her it's not Christmas.
If she could kindly wait?
Contest - Story Poem
Sponsor - Carol Eastman
1st place win
Copyright © Julia Ward | Year Posted 2015
My Baby Sister
My baby sister, Karrean
Went home to eternity
Her soul is with our Lord
To share His full serenity
For siblings we were all close
Our childhood was the best
I’ll never forget the fun we had
Our entire family felt so blessed
She always showed love
To everyone she knew
We all loved her so much
And she loved us all too
As she entered Heaven
My mind envisioned this
She met her first grandson
To give him a hug and kiss
I could see her holding him
Two days before his birth
Giving him all her love
To bring back to this earth
There is one more vision
Another blessing that I see
She is also up there in Heaven
Spending this Father’s Day with daddy
Florence McMillian (Flo)
Copyright © Florence McMillian | Year Posted 2016
I am only a mere mortal.
Near total perfection even my reflection is afraid to stare.
Exit reality through a portal,
between Heaven and hell up three flights of stairs.
"I shall call this place Earth", I said
to a group of ten who just witnessed a universe's birth.
Here we will rejoice and love one other
Even though our blood is not one you are thy brother.
We all are one forever and after
pain with joy, sadness with laughter.
Above a light serves us with endless life,
to wage war with death is a meaningless fight
Copyright © Gerald Moise | Year Posted 2014
I prayed everyday
Every moment I could
I needed a partner or soul mate
Well I really thought I would
A real prince charming type
Someone really true to love
To replace all the loneliness
Someone sent from above
Instead He sent me an angel
So handsome, gallant and kind
Someone I could actually trust
Better than I could ever find
Not to be my soul mate
Or even a boyfriend
Just to be my angel
A true God send
To lift my spirits
Helping with care
Proving that he will
Truly always be there
My angel brings me comfort
A true friend who has my back
Like my prayers were answered
Filling my void to remove the lack
God gets the credit for sending my angel
An angel wanting only kindness in return
My angel was sent as a reward for good deeds
For paying it forward, my angel I have earned
I no longer worry about finding someone to love
As I am treated special by my angel who is a gift
This type of angel only comes once in a lifetime
So blessings go to my angel for his spirits to lift
Florence McMillian (Flo)
Copyright © Florence McMillian | Year Posted 2012
“Be still sad heart and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining,
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life a little rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.”- - Longfellow
After the Old Bethel church had been in decline for many
years it was moved to its present location for the Gullah.
A smell of salt always in the breeze, the sound of waves
crashing on the rocks may be heard.
He stands in the old adjacent cemetery looking at a grave,
adorned by an ebony angel, a tear falls as the wing tip is touched.
My story was in a different time and place, a different culture even.
Taking place in 1881 long after the terrible division was over.
Yet the landmarks, preserved from that war lingered,
even as they took on new meaning and significance.
The churches were all touting “demon rum”
while the temperance leagues marched.
With drum and cymbal they moved,
from church to levee, up the banks
and through the square where the Citadel stands.
Then turning left through the heart of Charleston
to stop at the open market place,
where everyone gathered in the long hot evenings.
The church not segregated then, the Gullah
attended along with the whites- -
more for show and display of wealth, than for religion.
For that they would reserve Sunday evening
and a larger church in the heart of town.
He lived adjacent to the church, beyond the graveyard.
The first time he saw her, she saw him first.
When he looked up and caught the stare
the most amazing look of rapture came over him.
Both were embarrassed and neither could speak.
He finally composed himself and invited her to come into the garden.
After a short fiery relationship her swollen condition
prompted the church to intervene.
It was on the verge of ostracizing both of them
when she slipped on the rocks of the jetty.
As he tried to save her she delivered a son.
In all the confusion and darkness, and because of her weakened
condition he could not save both of them and she died.
His Great Grandfather lived and so continued the long line
on down through his grand babies. This one would not have known her
even had she lived to a ripe old age. But the fact of love denied to
these two young people in that moment in time, has been told and
retold down the generations. Sometime, in the lifetime of each
generation, the statue has been visited to keep a promise that is made
by every son of every son.
Sept. 29 2011 Charles Henderson
For Constance's "Church by the Ocean" contest
Copyright © Charles Henderson | Year Posted 2011
Conversation with an Angel
I live in an average neighborhood, in Colorado Springs. I like to refer to my street as
the ‘all American street’. Most of the homes in my neighborhood were built between the
1890’s and early 1930’s. Our yards are reflective of our personalities, so I believe. An
eclectic mosaic of manicured and not so manicured lawns, xeriscaped, not so xeriscaped
yards fill the view as one drives down the road.
We still say hello as we pass by, and many walk our dogs or just enjoy the company of a
loved one for an evening stroll. With Pike’s Peak as our back drop I think most of us feel
blessed to call our neighborhood home.
One night while out walking about an hour before dusk, I noticed something not quite
right. A little out of place if you will; between the road and the sidewalk is a section
of yard for each home, about 10 feet from sidewalk to curb, with Elms and Oak trees
agelessly garnishing the street, I happened to notice a man about two blocks ahead, bent
down ‘doing something’ quite contently. Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess I was just
fixed on the length of time he was bent down. As I approached, I imagined what he was
doing, “an injured pet maybe or damaged sprinkler head”. As I came closer I noticed he’d
look up in my direction, and back down again. I had a sense that whatever it was he was
doing; he wanted to be done before I arrived. I picked up my pace, more curious than
worried. Finally, as I crossed the next street; he was within ears shot of a quick
“hello”. He looked up and nodded back, then down again at whatever he was doing. I could
make out his features and knew he was ‘not from around these parts’. It was summertime,
and his appearance was quite disheveled. His face was unshaven, not a beard, but a few
days growth, wrinkled and tanned as if he’d been homeless for a while. His hair was
tousled, bleached from the sun with wisps of gray. I found it odd, that he had on a long
tan rain coat, blue jeans and sandals with no shirt underneath.
Copyright © michael hornschuch | Year Posted 2011
Diane, a Christian University student, was visiting
some hometown friends while on a summer vacation
She was catching up on all the stories her girlfriends
and she wanted to share with each other.
They got carried away sharing with each other and
before you knew it, it was very late.
Diane hugged her friends and headed out. She lived
several blocks away. It was very dark and she felt
somewhat uncomfortable by herself, walking home
As she was walking she decided to take a shortcut
through an alleyway. Midway through the alley. She
felt as though she was being watched! An eerie feeling
overtook her. Her emotions were overtaken by
She was shocked when from the corner of her eye,
she saw a male figure staring directly at her! She
immediately felt threatened! He was not just looking.
He reminded her of an animal seeking out its prey.
The prey was her!
Immediately she started praying as she was
approaching this male figure. She walked past him
and got close enough to get a good look at him.
She then started running! Faster than she has ever
run before! Seeing her house, she was almost there.
She fumbled with her house keys. They felt like a
lifetime to find and unlock the front door!
Diane felt relieved being behind close doors. She
sat down and caught her breath. She grabbed a towel
and wiped her sweat from her face. She drank a glass
of cold water and laid in bed until finally she was calm
enough to allow herself to sleep.
The next morning reading the local newspaper,
she read where a woman was raped approximately
20 minutes after she had passed through that same
alleyway, she had walked through.
The newspaper said the police were looking for
A suspect was arrested and Diane volunteered to
pick out the man she had seen that night, from a line
up of five men.
She picked out the man in the lineup that she had
seen. The police further questioned him and he finally
admitted to committing the rape. The police thanked
Diane and asked her if there was anything they could
do for her.
Diane said there is one thing. Could you please ask
the perpetrator why he didn't attack the first woman he
saw in the alleyway.
The police asked him. His reply was,"There were
two huge tall whitish men on each side of her. That is
This story circulated on the internet.
Nayda Negron Angels Contest
Copyright © michael tor | Year Posted 2015
“Yeah, all the way. No ride, no bus, just walkin’. I can’t quit till I give you your
message, and finish drawing this sand script so you’ll know I’m not lying.” I was shocked
by what he was telling me. I looked around half expecting to see one of my neighbors come
out laughing and pointing and shouting “HA! You’ve been punked!” but no one was around;
just he and I alone. The man began to speak, and this is truly what he said, “You’ve had a
hard road to hoe, and life hasn’t always been fair in your eyes. But your angel wants me
to tell you not to give up. You’re finally on the right path. And he’s proud of you.”
“He’s a he?” I asked, stupidly. “Yes, he’s a he (as if I’d just asked the lamest question
of all time), now will you let me finish?” “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m just not used to men
drawing angels and giving me a message.” The man stopped what he was doing, and looked up
at me. The look on his face was as if he was thinking “If I had a quarter for each time I
heard that…”, but he said nothing. He went back to drawing, and was working on the detail
of the face and neck, drawing an outline of the shirt collar, and then back to the face.
I knew this picture, but I couldn’t tell who it was, I kept thinking it must be a famous
person, why was it so familiar? “Your angel wants you to know, you’re not alone, he’s been
with you forever—since you were pretty much born. He’s sorry he left when he did, he knows
you needed him.” I just listened now, “You lost him when you were about 12, and life got
rough on you. He was there watching, and protecting you best he could.” I was stunned; I
could see who the face was now. Then the man stood up, and placed his hand on my shoulder.
He said these words, “He says to tell you, don’t be worried about buying that house,
you’ll grow old in it, and even though the world seems bleak, you’re going to make it. He
says you need to hear that, because he says you’re going to have a heart attack if you
don’t quit worrying.”
Copyright © michael hornschuch | Year Posted 2011