The Tale of Artuir mac Aedan; The light of the West.
In The Begining.
Behold my son this our home of Airer Goidell
in the land of Airer Goidell in Alba.
Far from our birthland of Ulaid across the sea,
a sea ruled by Manaanan Mac Lir
We came here following Gabran our clann chief,
in our wooden ships braving seas rough and wild,
Picts were here before us but they didnt flee,
took us in and became our friends indeed,
They were horsepeople of reknown,
gave us the skill without regret or redress,
all this began years gone past.
You my boy may not be a Ri here,
Perhaps a leader of warriors strong and skilled,
for i fear this land will be desired and fought over,
keeping it safe and secure like you would a lover,
Your still a babe who giggles and bubbles blow,
but Artair mac Aedan, you will not be slow,
to serve us well and a legend to grow.
andrew mcintyre. 11/01/2024.
There were no residents
There were immigrants
just.
The journey was long, tired he was. Lights everywhere, he arrived where he wanted to
One way ticket and a suitcase full of illusions.
Other start, other mountain to climb.
He arrived to a station, he dreamt of a new line to write on.
Soon a job he started, happy as a pig in muck.
New lover amazed his heart.
As a shining cowboy in a rodeo, he kept standing on.
Day after day he has been successful, nobody knows.
Melancholy was a shadow always behind him.
His lover was a butteefly feeding from all the flowers.
His friends were leeches feeding on his blood.
His refuge became a bunker, his heart an empty space,
his dreams a nightmare.
Lying in bed with the blinds down, with black clouds on his mind, only himself on his refuge.
One day he opened the blinds and he saw a little bird standing on the balcony singing.
That little bird's song touch his soul, his heart, his whole mind.
He got up full of music right to be played.
Another begining to look for, the same refuge he came from: his hometown, his friends, his forever family, his nest where he comes back for refuge.
The man standing like a rock
Being the old clock
Time is passing slowly
It won't be easy
The bed seems to be alive
But that is just a lost dream that will arrive
my mind so deep like the hall in my glace
Maybe I found another resting place
The echoes of the he's sad resonate on is heart
Peaceful and quiet when he will sleep
For ever he will find the joy he never meets
A New Year
I must stop being a lazy bee.
I must plant much more trees.
I must wither off my part that likes to procrastinate and
I must stay away from the pack of chocolates.
I must shower my nature to be kind
and let my change be this year’s find.
The tree was flowering the waist of every twig at dawn
Sun shined it with golden ray through fawned eyes lawn
After morning bath you came to pluck some of it
No one was there but from the roof silent I greeted
Black hair, red vermilion, smiling body and creed
The tender hands touched the flowers lovingly in need
The basket of oblation became full of charming
Holiness before the God brought the scent of spring
Hymn from the scripture and the bell reminded the tree
That served self to make alive the belief how wonderfully
Whose garden, whose flowers were there still I do not know
But flowers for solemn hymn the beauty starts the dawn true
22.07.2020 Chattogram
Got up to a glorious sunny day,
Spent most of it in the garden.
Clearing the winter weeds away,
New life was begining to show.
Strimmed off the Secret Garden,
Saw the ground cover plants exposed.
Some plants are coming along nicely,
Their names only Heaven knows.
Went round to the front to help Fran,
We're both doing the best that we can.
Forty odd pots either flowers or seeded,
Summer will show if we have succeeded.
Still lots of work for tomorrow,
Dead shrubs and rubbish to throw.
All the chairs now have their cushions,
For folk to come and rest at their ease.
Our home is always open,
A nice cup of coffee or tea.
Cold beer will always suit me,
Your welcome to come and see.
© Dave Timperley 06 March 2017
The time for that change has come to the fore,
When we put away stuff to make room for more.
Ornaments that all year had held sway,
Are now boxed up and safely hidden away.
Our Grandson is coming for a short holiday,
So the house is transformed just for his stay.
Christmas is early just for his delight,
While he is here we will enjoy Christmas night.
The cabinet in the corner goes down the hall,
To make room for the Christmas Tree so tall.
Fran starts to rub her hands with glee,
It's time to put up the Christmas Tree!
So out come the boxes of Christmas stuff,
Out come the tangles of Christmas Tree lights.
I built the tree and set the lights twinkling bright,
Fran moves in with her flair to make all look right.
Santa stands by with his sack of surprises in boxes,
Polar bears to the front on skis and squirrels aglow,
All standing in knee deep in cotton wool snow.
Christmas village and people are set and all lit,
Poinsettia all blooming on the table centre sit,
Now we are ready to share our delight,
With our daughter and grandson.
A Special Christmas Night.
A Very Happy & Blessed Christmas to All
© Dave Timperley. Christmas 2016
been up hill fight
for this rights
for better light
I have a insight
we're winining
watch the moon
NEW BEGINING
SOON
to vote is your hope
don't be a doke
don't poke
we're winning
ITS A
NEW BEGINING
lord made us all
its was man call
they came in
with the same blend
was woman and man
its was heavely in the tree
than they lift it up
the warp stuff
the mind got wet
it was the
FROM THE BEGINING AND SEX
its now
we are bound
for anew way
its a new day
we all have some say
the old ways or endining
its a
NEW BEGINING
In my time I'm not ashamed
I didn't even feel like I was framed
I did my share of dope
At one time I thought there was no hope
I didn't even have one friend
I knew it was not yet the end
Christ has not return
So my life I made a turn
My heart began to hurt
I felt i just been burnt
I am the only one to blame
That my life was in shame
Out of Satan's pit I come
No longer the life of a bum
I had me a new bunkie
Recovering my life from being a junkie
God's love redeemed my soul
That I once again became whole
Washed away all my sins
With Jesus Christ my life just begins
That ancient book who's scriptures tell.
Of mans beliefs, and guides our way.
Embrace salvation- don't choose Hell
That place is where an angel fell.
Adam and Eve, each sinned words say.
That ancient book who's scriptures tell.
Forbidden fruit, with Devil's spell
As serpent, he made Adam stray.
Embrace salvation- don't choose Hell.
Outcast they were, a sad farewell.
Commandments warn us, don't betray
That ancient book, who's scriptures tell.
If we are true, then we would dwell
Forever, in Gods Kingdom pray.
Embrace salvation - don't choose Hell.
The Devil seeks lost souls, why sell
Eternal grace for dark decay.
That ancient book who's scriptures tell,
Embrace salvation - don't choose Hell.
.
still have old
that's still gold
they got be
more heavenly
let there be a new tree
and stop racist
sining
let in the
NEW BEGINING
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.