She sings in soft tones,
her magic exists beyond the obvious.
Listen closely to her wanting,
She is wrapped in a trancendent light.
chasing white rabbits.
Grasping for the infinite,
with delicate hands.
Dances within her luminosity.
Flying on yesterday's wings,
carrying smiles that are meant for tommorow.
Witness her as she waits to exhale.
A daisy chain,
tied around her wrist.
A future promise to be kept.
For within her spirit,
exists a burning passion!
She waits for one who is worthy,
of her consuming flame
Although she is unaware,
hers is a temporary sadness.
Happiness flirts at the edge of her dreaming,
waiting for an open window.
His shadow hidden behind frosted glass.
Shades of green,
turn brilliant yellow!
Buttercups dance around her feet.
Her laughter floats across the meadow,
as happiness runs to her open arms.
Together they skip, towards her apple tree.
For hers is a faith that trancends the temple.
Her spirit sought and found salvation.
He had been with her all along,
I can see it in her smile.
The rain has passed and sunshine now resides in her eyes!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
Springtime is a chance to start your life anew,
Dust off your pride and change your attitude.
Bring forth the hidden treasures, of your heart,
Don’t worry about the past that tore you apart.
Let the fresh air cleanse your soul, body and mind,
Release the inhibitions that have kept you blind.
Love yourself, for who you are and what you can do,
Never worry about what others think, it all about you.
Embrace the earth elements and the comfort they bring,
Sit back, relax, and enjoy the results, of your spring cleaning.
Written : © 3/21/16
Submitted for: Second Chance #3
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
Copyright © Sarita Milliner | Year Posted 2016
white ribbons ascending upward,
becoming breath of blue sky.
shadows of angels shooting arrows
into the proprietor of daily peril.
silhouettes of songs circumnavigation
the moat around everyone's heart.
the areola around the moon's sphere,
and April's evaporation from morning rain.
the lattice of the earth encompassing
and collecting the goodness of all.
Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2016
Adios you soggy segue
nature’s mud pie maker
roof top drummer
cool breathed friend
easing the ice from its depths
cajoling the worms
with the Robins.
Bon Voyage old vagabond
spring’s pheromonal scent
arousing dormant need.
fading water colors
dashes of Jonquil yellow
sprayed among Bluebonnets
“Parting is a sweet sorrow”*
eased in May’s sweet greens
long evenings warmth
celebrating such splendid
John G. Lawless
*My acknowledgement to Shakespeare
Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2017
Spring marks the end of winter and start of summer
It is lovely with colorful contrasts
Norway is a long country with a lot of mountains and valleys
Wide variations in climate from south to north and from east to west
Migrant's return, and the first flower is coltsfoot
Both humans and animals awakened by hibernation with new energy
The sun is high, no snow falls and the birds singing
Small downy mouse ears to be leaves on birch tree
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016
They say it all makes sense now.
All these medical oddities I've experienced at such a young age.
My doctor insists that things have to make sense.
He says it's his job, to find the reason.
I baffle him with my hair loss and insomnia.
My anxiety and depression.
My dermatillomania and body pain.
He says I don't make sense.
I can't help but agree.
Lately body aches have become a part of my everyday life.
I've forgotten what living feels like without aching somewhere.
Constant fatigue and nerve tingling also decided to crash the party.
I used to say that it felt like my mind was fighting against me.
Loneliness, anxiety and lack of sleep made functioning hard.
I wondered what I did to deserve this hell that no one else could see.
My own private cell.
This was the year that my hair started to fall out in patches.
I added it to the list of maladies.
I've come to discover that my suffering makes others uncomfortable.
My friends avoid the bags under my eyes and the ice packs placed over my body.
The winces of pain seems to force them to avert their eyes.
They don't know how to respond to so much medical issues bound into one body.
Especially a body so young.
The most discomfort they've experienced is in their young lives is a few stray injuries, all bound to a fun experience.
I sometimes wish I could have such shallow knowledge in the ways of pain as them.
I don't blame them for their awkwardness around me.
We talked to others.
Many people think I have either fibromyalgia or lupus.
Every symptom I have is an exact copy of those filed under fibromyalgia.
Except for the hair loss.
That would just be another fun quirk I get to have.
My doctor is happy.
He says things finally have aligned themselves.
It's a puzzle to him, nothing more.
Once I get diagnosed in April he will have solved it.
I've become more depressed.
If it truly is fibromyalgia, I will have this for the rest of my life.
Constant pain and malaise are not placed on my agenda.
My mom says I need to adapt and keep moving.
Few have taken into account my worries.
What will life be like for me?
A 15 year old who suffers from chronic pain and lives life with her ice packs and anxiety in tow.
How will I perform my beloved sports, when I can barely drag myself out of bed each morning?
My future is directed by fear of the unknown.
I don't quite know what to do with myself anymore.
All of the art I love creating causes me unbearable pain.
I hope I'll be okay, one day.
Copyright © Hailey Coraggioso | Year Posted 2016
Your love song lapsed into ancient French that April day.
I only understood the words of spring and heartsore
lapsed. Only love and heartsore, I understood your ancient
words of the spring-day song into that French April.
You fabricate my pauses into repetition, silence speaks
of ages strung to rhyme in love’s difficult service
you strung into pauses in service to ages. Fabricate of
love’s repetition, rhyme speaks my difficult silence.
We practice tedium of vows till language breaks apart.
As if art should aim at science, rigorous, quantitative,
rigorous language breaks tedium. Science vows a part of
quantitative practice till we should aim “as if” at art.
Till we lapsed into language. As your ancient ages only
fabricate quantitative French strung to that difficult
practice, science speaks of tedium and understood rhyme.
The spring in service of love’s rigorous vows. April
pauses, heartsore. You and I, apart. If love should aim
my words at day, repetition breaks into silence of song.
Copyright © Taylor Graham | Year Posted 2006
Of first embrace and broken glass
I cherish that first spark
New light upon our forest' dark.
Do you recall that northern wind?
It came at first so swift
Perhaps our growing light enraged
Poor Hopelessness', her whims denied
Inspired shadows from retreat
Those having once left us in our light.
"There's hope for you!” her battle cries
“Forwards; towards the glowing night
Attack! The lion will not bite
I promise he will turn blind eyes
Go back! I will cover your eyes!”
“Follow storms winds descent
True path through forests dense
Rip, tear, rent!
From low to high
Head to toes
Even to above
Where dark forest glows
Churn even these shades
Whites and grays
Where once were dulled
"My children do not stop there!"
She would say,
"You must inscribe them full
Lest unseen hopes, occupy as slivers
As pretending tones, they have been known to hide
Shimmers upon the edge of shades
We must leave them emptied, lost whims, denied
Their ways left as waste to ruins
Despairs do not relent with dooms
Leaving chance to sparks in time
Per chancing kindles from hearts that loom.”
“Descend, my raging opaque!
The dense itself engrave
Teach young love old lessons
That she may now know at such young age
The heart of this forest lessened.”
“Now go' my shadowed tails delight
Slice sharp paths without care
Cause those within their ears too bear
The roaring of fresh leaves…
Torn from their rightful place
Before the given time”
“Dying screams let them endure
Let them feel your shadows
The cold so swift
We were so sure This was spring
Your body’s naked form, lovely
Dropping, encircling our flame
Disregarding winds intent
Then came the rains' extinguishing
Your hands were warm
My feet were cold
I shiver at this memory.
…Rains cold intensity
The downpour overcoming
I'm sorry I could not see
My circle enclosed circles now
I knew the dark complete
As our smoke heavenward arose
To late this pittance; ash offerings
Ashes on the ground
Then came the rivers rage
Cutting its path through the heart
Forever too leave
Forever leaving its mark
Upon our forest dark
Meandering on; its choosing path
And I with it beside; belonged
For a chosen time
My love again I say
For a chosen time
Do you understand?
I chose the time of days
Copyright © Michael Perritano | Year Posted 2006
You walked into the room, my heart began to pound,
Your hat cocked off, your clothes just right, your scent all around.
You took the seat behind me, eye contact as you passed.
I think my heart stopped for just a second, a moment I wanted to last.
Time goes by but the day finally came when our paths they did cross,
My palms were sweaty, my body numb, my brain suddenly shut off.
Talking on the phone to going on dates to you making me dinner,
It all lead to a forever love we both came out a winner.
Friends in the beginning , today husband and wife,
No matter what we go thru, with you I will spend my life.
Copyright © Poetically Numb | Year Posted 2017
For more details, please see my Blog dated 7th April 11
'In India, a new Revolution is in the offing'
A New Hope shown by Anna Hazare in India
A new torch is there in your hands, dear Anna Hazare*,
A torch by which you are waking up the souls
Of millions and millions of our sleeping citizens.
To wake up and to remove the curses created by many of our
Corrupt bureaucrats and down to earth polluted politicians,
Such people inspire only directly or indirectly in my country
Violence, crime, corruption, and greedy coalitions.
No words are sufficient to thank you, O soldier of Gandhi,
As by non-violence, only Gandhi wanted to change the society.
God has given you an opportunity to do something,
O bold soldier
Several hundred thousands are standing with you and
Millions would join your campaign for removing the curse of corruption,
Effecting our country and many countries of the world,
All these are the result of ever-increasing greed and misdeeds of many such bureaucrats and politicians,
Such people are ruining many countries of the world by their
Ever increasing lustful temptations for money and greed for power and pelf.
In an era when the world is facing its new Renaissance of knowledge and awakening,
We salute your guts and efforts to bring a wind of change in my country.
Just keep walking with the torch of courage and hopes you have lighted,
As millions and millions more are waiting to join your efforts or
Waiting to start a campaign like this in every country,
As all the nations of the world are facing the tortures created by unworthy bureaucrats
Keep the torch high to light up the nation with a new light,
Our dear soldier Anna Hazare.
Kanpur India 08th April 2011
Anna Hazare* . Anna Hazare is a 73 years old man and one of India's
well-acclaimed social activists. A former soldier in the Indian army,
Anna is well known and respected for upgrading the ecology and
economy of the village of Ralegan Siddhi which is located in the
drought prone Ahmednagar district of Maharashtra state
Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2011
(Earth Day, 2014)
New life emerges;
fragile Earth survives another day...
We scan our universe for origins
(and endings), extending vision
ever farther, reaching for utmost limits...
So much to learn --
trial and error, trial and error
(preponderance of error)...
and new life emerges.
survives another day.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2014
Seasons pass in the flow of changing
Beautiful as nature's elements just delightful
The spring, a princess on heaven and earth
You know the fragrance has a special language
So sweet, so sweet little violets in their blooming
Right now it's Spring that gently touches my face
Take care of it with all the tenderness you can give
07.04.2015 A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015
You pull the strings of lover's guitar.
And blend the rythm with solemn desire.
We sung the song of endless hymn.
While whispering a promise in my ears.
Hand and hand we reach the edge,
of heavenly bliss that you and I shared.
I almost forgot the date on that day.
It was April when you fool me so well. :(
Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014
File by April 15th,
avoid penalty and interest.
Declare all income from:
or even if you sell your old jalopy
to your cousin.
But your losses are not fully deductible,
must be reduced or prorated,
spanning future years.
There are limits, you know -
and those limits - well,
tax credits apply to others,
in every case . . .
you've exceeded the limit.
So dig deep . . . and pay up.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2015
The Lonely Fisherman
He sat on a rowing boat in the fjord he wore a yellow raincoat
and a southwestern cap matching his coat` colour. Fine rain it
was like watching a movie an intellectual one and French.
I couldn’t stand by the window all day, so I sat down reading
a book that was too long a mind-numbing love story.
I read several pages then gave up looked out of the window
the boat was there, and his cap was floating like a life raft for
a mouse I held my breath had he drowned, then the man got
up he had fallen in his boat perhaps slipped on a dead fish,
but other ways looked fine and with an oar caught his cap.
He began rowing to shore tied the boat to the small pier and
walking up the track to my cabin, he carried fish in a plastic
bag I dived behind the sofa when he knocked on my door
I don`t like fish but would end up buying a couple to be polite
and if he was of the talkative kind bore me with endless tales.
Back on the boat, he untied the rope turned and gave me the finger.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2016
follow on facebook,
adore on pinterest,
fall in love on instagram,
kiss on a hunch,
all under a tree.
Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016
She meandered through
new spring grass, startling bugs
shortening their lives, taking her fill
with grandeur displayed
solely for her benefit.
His swagger almost took him
airborne, his tail feathers spread
into a fan of splendor
his princely prance seemingly
not even a blip on her view
Our appearance on the scene
assured his utmost strut, trumpeting
at us as we laughed and mocked
his silly gobble
Yet his strategy succeeded
She now sits on her nest
at the edge of the yard
under the hickory tree, just beyond
where the mower runs
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2015
The long awaited needed rain
finally came in gentle drops.
Thirsty daffodils greedily
quaffed the tepid precipitate
while their odoriferous scents
reluctantly merged with ozone
creating a pungent bouquet
that stimulated the nostrils.
Far afield from the daffodils
robins comb the newly wet grass
for ever emerging earthworms
that are coaxed above by the rain.
Soon the tugs of war begin
between the two adversaries.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2012
The April morning's quiet
and so is the November.
Wherever people outnumber trees
or the dominant cover type
is unquiet. Nothing wrong with that.
Walt got it right, and Jane Jacobs:
the city is an experienced,
used beauty. Her toes are long,
nails thick and hair thin. Yet
her kisses can be sweet; or
smell of ****. All my life I've tried to point my window toward
some narrow wedge of nature.
On Seaman Ave., over the roof
beyond the chimney to the park
where every dog was walked.
Could I survive soot and an air shaft now, pigeons and cats,
or even a desk in the legislature for my lot in life. How about
prison like Etheridge Knight,
I've gotten soft.
When he builds that house in the pocket
wetland my window now looks out on,
the developer will have given me what I need.
oak, ash and maples felled. Good
to the last drop is our bitterness, our love.
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015
Sly quiet slim fur
Sneaking through the trees
The only one that likes water
Copyright © Smail Poems | Year Posted 2013
Slant light lances
stabbed through clouds
of thick grey,
Wetness fills the sky
And falls on all.
Copyright © Wm Paul | Year Posted 2014
Love is a wonder
shared by one another
it's the only reason
I'm not six feet under
Love in which I believe
in a will to sustain
I give back to life, now
in dormant states of pain
The power of Love
may not alone be enough
locked inside my dreams
escape only from above
higher than any human being
has ever gone before
I must have evolved
rise above hate, great once more
My Father taught me wisdom
I am imprisoned no longer
now an beast not of burden
I am no lion, I am stronger
on my shoulder sits twin dragons
long awaiting the day
evil forces come forth to
take what Love is left, away
A Hero of Love light
are what the world needs
angels, not demons
exist where ever you believe
follow your heart's direction
and you shall achieve
objects of affection
rid of materialistic greed
My bright energy
has awakened to a fire
never consuming the source
as the flames just grow higher
that is the desire
of a product we call Love
Fear, the counterpart
what I was once made of
I am slowly learning
how to win when my peace
is harder to sharpen
so I have given my pen leave
the sword has its uses
I must say I believe
to vanquish the evil
in the minds too diseased
to serve any purpose
except their own selfish ones
tomorrow a new day
in the clarity of the sun
where we two are now one
and one done now does
bring about a great change
lit by the righteousness of Love.
Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013
Oh, let my love like April rain
Wet the essence of your being,
Saturate your skin until I am
Its smoothness and the shine
Of your hair, and all of this
Not just to make you mine
But simply to contribute to
God's plan for your life in some small way,
Like sunlight serves a rose's bloom
And yet is not the bloom itself.
Oh, let my love strengthen bone,
Tone muscle fiber and mind against the day
Of reckoning that awaits us all,
Like unseen minerals dissolved from
Ocean layered skeletons of the dead
Later serve their living siblings,
All life a reservoir of sun's energetic gift,
Even my fermented tissue fueling rockets,
That funnel life full-blown to distant stars.
Oh, let there be nothing left on future Earth
For dying sun to consume at last
But traces of life - bones, and cracked egg shells,
While persistent life now populates the cosmos,
A living testimony to the evolutionary
Heart of God's love for us all,
Seeding new life throughout space-time,
As far-flung ancestors, perhaps,
Brought life to even Earth itself,
Intelligence, a self-correcting malware against
Mankind's fearfully imagined end of days,
Filling all of space instead with poetry and praise.
December 27, 2014
Copyright © Brian Johnston | Year Posted 2014
of morning sleep
Wind from my passing walk
Blows bluing notes in the sky.
Copyright © Wm Paul | Year Posted 2014
And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth
I stand among the reeds in the basin
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013
If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.
Copyright © Anthony O. Mitchell Jr. | Year Posted 2013
PROPHETIC DREAM – JOURNAL IX
On the outskirts,
Framed on either side
By a farm house a barn
I discovered this winding path
It is early autumn
The trees about the house
Are full of lingering gold
Various harvest implements are seen
A silo rises in the foreground
With a tool shed beside
And the receding meadow beyond – cut
in two by the path – a luscious green
Far distant is a dense, black forest fronting
I am just past my 85th birthday
And the mysterious future, creeping ever
closer, much on my mind
The dream vision is so colorful so clear
That when I awake
I must just lie still and wonder
Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2014
Football’s in the
All the colleges
Students don colors
It seems like just
At the stadium
Alma maters by the
A vendor throwing
To customers in the
And here comes the
Pride of Smith
Dressed in red and
I was there with all
From trusted wheel
Still getting into
Excitement the same
I’m still singing
with the band
With oxygen close at
Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2014
He was nuttier than a fruitcake,
He ate dry fruits, and candied fruits.
Some thought he was a screwball.
But from the likes of things.
He was very normal.
At least, I thought he was.
After a day on the fishing boat.
We'd finally catch a fish or two.
Nothing new, just a fish or two.
A crackpot, a crank, a nutcase, they said.
But him and his beautiful wife, they wed.
They were married, on April fools day.
The first of April, and man did it rain.
It came down.The thunder, and the lightning.
Man, it was frightening.
The thunder, and the lightning.
But the fruitcake absorbed it all.
He never gave in, and he never gave up.
Just a fruitcake.Out on the lake.
Fishing pole in hand.I thought it was grand.
Nothing like the cake.Mom gave at Christmas time.
Just a fruitcake.The fruitcake.
Fruitcake-Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
ALL rights reserved..
Copyright © Kim Robin Edwards | Year Posted 2014
FIRST DAY OF ARRIL
The ground still crunches ‘neath my step
Yet this mild sense of renewal
Eyes still overcast
that endless roof of gray clouds
Yet this mild sense of renewal
The calendar’s 24th day
strikes a Sunday short sleeve warmth
Yet this lingering fact of winter
But the wide mild whiff
thought of spring
And I am born once again
Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2011