Befell Poems | Examples

Premium Member Through Life's Clenched Jaw

"The casket, laden with flowers disappeared  as the curtain was slowly drawn.
If not before, now was the time for all those crying to mourn." The poet.

Immortality has always been an impossible dream.
The notion of living forever had lost its gleam.
When illness befell me and I wished for it to end,
Life led me to the soothing words of a friend.
Confusion overwhelmed me, I knew not where to turn.
Life led me to where I realised, I knew I could learn.
Despair and heartache let me see nothing but strife,
I was led to Christ my saviour who brightened my life.
Feelings of comfort and security and being held tight,
Brought love to my being and I knew all was right.
In the wild the young are held tenderly by clenched jaw,
Just  one of the reasons a nurturing parent is for.
I have trod this earth for many a worthwhile cause,
With laughter and tears, in the safety of life's clenched jaws.
Its now time for the jaws to release my soul and open wide.
Not the end, this life let me go and I am at my Maker's side.

when death struck

When death struck

I was rowing in a narrow fjord, and the sea was calm
Then the rocks fell into the water, disturbing the peace 
I rowed on
Until a part of the mountain fell, forming a gigantic wave
I was lifted riding the wave and saw a village disappear.
The boat splintered, but I was safe.
I looked down into the village, people coming out, not knowing
They were dead. I saw them dissolve, becoming drips of water
Before they ran into the sea, who was the mother
I kept on walking and came to a valley of roses, and they knew nothing
Of the tragedy that befell the people in the fjord.
I built a house in the belief that here, the sea would never reach me.

Premium Member Straighten Up and Fly Right

In the meadow, a tragedy befell
a mother butterfly by a wishing well. 
She'd wished for a son who could fly all crooked,
but a witch's curse prevailed, so wicked.
Her firstborn had the preposterous trait
of flying up and staying straight.


Premium Member Murder in the Red Barn

A couple soon to be said newly wed,
yet swiftly snuck behind the family’s back
to swear the vow inside th’old shack,
quick forgot’n, buried a secret dread; 

A reek awaftin’ out a country shed
left long and fast behind by Spring-heeled Jack,
the stench o’ rot stinkin’ from a sack
discovers a soiled corpse ‘n’a mangled head;

Well…, they ‘was a murder in the red barn,
an absence none—nor husband—could explain,
’til—guess,—what befell the fair lady’s kin?:
’twas a strange dream th’unwound the twisted yarn.
On that farm, packed ‘nside a sack o’ grain,
a body lay stuffed deep down ’n’a storage bin—

Premium Member The Flipside Rondel

The flip side of a stinging bee,
an exquiste honey jar spell.
A North Florida storm befell
her city like fierce fantasy.

Tender morsels sensitively
took control of a wishing well.
An exquiste honey jar spell,
the flip side of a stinging bee. 

Covered all over so sweetly,
birdsong now unable to yell. 
Urban magic hits personal,
it cannot land delicately. 
The flip side of a stinging bee.

Until I Rest

I have things to do and places to be,
Burdens to bear and people to please.
I look not at the watch staring back at me,
For I shall be late to the morning tea.
I have so many conversations to make,
And very many promises to break,
I have to be at the graveyards and the cemeteries,
Then put on a smile and bring the kids pastries.
I have to look the sick in the eye and lie,
Beg them to hold on to false hope till they comply.
I have to make sure the last of the biscuits sell,
Then guide the birds back home when night befell.

I have things to do and places to be,
But let me rest a moment before it's time to leave.


Lightbulb

The air writhes for a funnel.
The wind tunnel is unusually special.
Quick sell a landfill a prequel.
Befell death knell in a clam shell.

The lightning bolt on a beach.
Thin glass forms from the impact.
A firefly trapped inside signals his family.
Goodbye.

Gisele

I don’t know how to write this – 
It’s an homage to Gisele
And her bravery despite the horror
Which to her befell.

She chose to show her face while
In the courtroom, on a screen,
Repeated violations
To her body would be seen.

Her husband, lowest of the low,
Deserves his stint in jail,
But the question one must ask is
What is normal for a male?

For if 50 other rapists,
Spanning families, jobs and years,
Thought their acts should be accepted,
All is worse than it appears.

Hearing all the awful details,
With so many men to blame,
Gisele nailed it when she told the world
The sides are switching shame.

Premium Member A Wake on the Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and insomnia befell,
No creature was stirring, but my thoughts are pell-mell.
Would the family squabbles and feuds come with the cheer?
Would I have to drown them out, with too much beer?

The smile and wave diversion has limited worth?
How long can my mirth defray my feeling good dearth?.
I flit like a butterfly, I sting like a bee. 
But, my hands can't hit what my eyes can't see.

It's all so jovial, with all folks tongues tied.
Letting slip barbs tongue-in-cheek that lied.
Lips forced into clenched fist clamped smiles.
With forget-me-knots shrouded as wait-a-whiles.
 
The reindeers were laughing, stopping on the roof,
as I downed another draught of whiskey high-proof.
A hangover is a sure-fire cure to help me cope,
with the downhill slide to the slippery slope.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and I'm awake,
fearing the family feud sparring earthquake.
My mind is churning over past disputes, give-and-take,
and how to avoid ruining the day with a silly mistake.

Premium Member Tangy Sweethearts Rondine

Tangy sweethearts blended so well,
lemonade and love a fine mix;
Leisurely pour or a quick fix,
sugar and a bang will dispel;
Our flavors make each other swell;
Shaken hard with red and white sticks,
tangy sweethearts;
We ‘get’ each other we just gel;
Becoming ride or die sidekicks
adds mischief to our bag of tricks;
A lovely chill at once befell,
tangy sweethearts.

Premium Member Story time With Mr Meow

Old Mr.Meow says, 
"It's story time now!
Come children and listen to me."
They gather around
And he set his tea down...
"Where shall I begin, let me see...
There once was a girl
As small as a pearl
And so she was named by her Dad.
Unable to find 
A husband in kind
Her father gave all that he had. 
So he send word
To King Eggward
Hoping for a reply. 
Although the King
Was crack-brained he
Was also a very sweet guy. 
King Eggward knew
Who for the girl would do
For his nephew was orange but small. 
He sent word back
For the family to pack
For a long trip in the Fall.
To a land far away
Called The Orchard so they
Could find the Apple house there. 
Where his nephew the wee
Lived a life full and free
And the couple would make a great ‘pear.’
When they arrived
To find this little orange guy
 a terrible tragedy befell!
In the field where they went
Just where the King sent, 
Found Only applesauce full of eggshell!

Premium Member You Are Always On My Mind

I wore his dog tags and his medal for the valor they implied.
My heart was aching, sorrow engulfed me, I felt torment inside.
Life lost meaning. I had hated that war since it first begun.
Now the worst thing of all, disbelieving that it had taken my son.

The misery that my loss had created, proved to be all too strong.
I was unable to sleep, I just cried all day and all night long.
Finally weeks later some sleep befell me and I began to dream.
In the distance was my boy, alive and well or so it would seem.

He was with other young soldiers all marching up a very steep hill.
All had packs upon their backs, but my son was standing quite still.
He was struggling hard to climb as his pack was the biggest of all
I asked him, "why is your pack so large and the other’s so small?".

"Most of the guy's loved ones, have happy memories of their life,
But all I have left you Mum, is tumultuous sorrow, grief and strife.
Our packs are full of the tears that our loved ones all have shed.
All the tears you have cried Mum, make my pack heavy as lead".

When I awoke, I cried no more, kept the good, left the sad times behind.
My dear son you are always on my mind. .........

Premium Member Zero, One, or Two

I

Two wiener dogs and their owners so proud
Approached each other right there on the green.
Then, the hounds commenced at yapping so loud.
But that wasn’t the dangdest thing I’d seen.

One of them’s front bit the other one’s butt.
At once, the other one’s front did the same.
This baffling case was not open and shut.
Those who saw it didn’t know who to blame.

I can’t believe what I saw on the lawn,
Because it all happened there so neatly.
In an instant, both yaps and dogs were gone -
They had devoured each other completely.

II

Don’t listen to that fool - I’m his brother.
I saw the wieners who had no muzzle.
He tells the wrong stumper, there’s another -
Quite a different confounding puzzle. 

One ‘et t’other, while t’other et the one. 
Which was out, which was in, no man could tell,
But there remained but one, not two or none.
One endured; one, a sadder fate befell.  

III

Don’t listen to them, I’s little sister.
I saw what really happened, if you please.
There warn’t none, nor one, but two left, mister, 
But uncommon strange, they switched identities.

Premium Member Father and Sun, Again

When the door's open, like a lady in waiting I tip my hat as she beamingly frets.
As I glimpse into the way she brings, the breath of Spring fills my very being.
I go to explore what she has in store, brazenly shone blooms, 'tis I to pluck 'um? 
Away I stepped, said, "None of that, it's me-neighbor's, tho' does owe favors."
So I waltz away with my boutonnière, glide gleaming, and kept on dreaming,
Of time to be, in eternity, with a son I adore, went to war and saw no more.
I realized that darkness befell my eyes, a Sun over here had now disappeared,
People are saying it's a solar eclipse and that the Sun no longer can glimpse ...
Like my son, Sun too is gone, but Sun will be back, thank God for that.
Sun owes me a day of days, do hope that Sun doesn't keep her father waiting.

Wabi-sabi

Shattered I, in countless pieces,
	Abandoned in the wake of that which me befell.
	Dust settles, and I retrieve the debris of who I was,
	Not knowing yet what I will become.
Broken me…but can be mended
	Fragments mine, in time, reshaping,
	Finding form and beauty in the chaos –
	A murmuration of those shards that were, are, and will be me.
Of destruction myself reborn,
	Ever to be fractured and remade,
	Never static nor complete…
	For even in death, I will be changed.

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