HE IS the WORD made FLESH, causing POETRY.
in lines of phi relativity.
Giving Haven, SANCTRUERY.
THE URGE
embellishing upon PLODE-DRAVEN.
The I AM, Inconceivably.
Life's hunger, he flourishes,
with variety's relish, he nourishes appetit
WITH SEASON, to taste at her warmly tit.
He smiles at his BRIDE, in an indescribable way.
The golden glow of LOVE, in auric_rippled face,
speaking in braille of thunder, phrase.
Neverending verse, mystery glazed
with reverberating reason-aburst, ablaze.
He illustrates in Winter, Fall, Spring, Summer.
THE AUTHOR THE CREATOR.
THE POET.
THE ANCIENT OF DAYS
Categories:
aburst, deep,
Form: Rhyme
My uncle's polka dot bow-tie is markedly symbolic,
For he has been, throughout his life, a fervent spotaholic.
His patient wife, dear Dottie, with whom he is quite besotted
Will only buy him underpants if suitably bespotted!
Punctilious with spellings, it will come as no surprise,
That he delights to cross the T's and gaily dots the I's.
And even as a lad when bad concussion laid him low,
To see those spots before his eyes had minimised the blow!
So when he goes out walking with his pet dalmation,Spot
His coat aburst with polka dots, he doesn't care a jot!
I doubt he'll ever mend his ways for everybody knows
'A leopard cannot change his spots' - or so the saying goes!
18/01/19
'Polka dot poetry contest' : Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
aburst, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
Stillness. Darkness, in this place
Thought that starts as arcs of light,
shot through hollow parts of space
Henceforth, day shall follow night
I create a stratosphere,
which I lay atop a sea
Day and night shall rotate here,
trading for eternity
To the edge, I bind a land
Vines aburst with fruit and flower,
Orchards lined across the sand
Eden's first and finest hour
Moon and stars such light will bring!
Just as much shall fill the sun
Beauty must still touch a thing,
though it might be seen by none
From the air and water spring
creatures I have caused to grow
slick of scale and quick of wing
As above, so too, below
Fast four-legged beasts appear,
friend to foe their numbers span
Last, though slumber draws Me near,
in My image, I make man
With free will and virtue blessed,
choices tell the fate he'll earn
Go forth child, today I rest...
Choose thee well til I return
Categories:
aburst, blessing, creation, god, men,
Form: Rhyme