Best Angstsweet Poems
Black clouds bury the blue skies of Bama overhead
as monstrous winds wipe out towns of southern plain.
From historic antebellum it left a path of dead
in the midst of hail and drenching down-pouring rain.
Ten hours of terror that held the sweet south in its grip
not yielding to warnings since wind motion was quick.
Leveled houses and buildings with just one long dip
leaving nothing to relish of mementos or red brick.
Toys and papers scattered with the dying whirl twist
sending debris to nearby states in massive claws.
Disaster covers barren- lifeless- ground in hail and mist
while residents view destruction that harshly gnaws.
Blind darkness filled the night after the storms once seized
bleak clouds clung, still forbidding stars or moon to shine.
Lives spared but tattered beings were left quite uneased
and not rightly sure where tired bodies could now resign.
Despair fills many counties hit by a ravenous wind
that changed a million lives in a fleeted moment.
Winds of majesty can transform, bringing life to an end
along with frazzled minds and souls in much discontent.
Although lives have been altered and turned inside out
friendship and well wishes are given in great abundance.
It will take patience to rebuild quaint rural towns, no doubt
with God’s and friends help, we still have a fighting chance.
“Sweet Home Alabama, you’re home sweet home to me”!
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Each time I arrive at my sweet country home,
I travel country roads.
With the sweet air and free feeling,
It’s hard not to be thankful for what where I’ve grown.
The sun seems to always shine upon my face.
My heart forever feels at ease.
And there’s that perfect spot on the hill,
where you can always catch the breeze
The Bard’s Lament
Her silken locks are auburn hued
Her smile, with day’s long toils subdued
Her gait, as water smoothly flowing
Her form is God’s transcendence showing
As sweet the sound of placid streams
Her voice resounding in my dreams
She is Summer, from recent Spring
Still blooming, growing fragrant things
While I am Autumn, nearing cold
Grasping youth, while growing old
Time is cruel, my dreadful foe
Against it, I’ll not victory know
My fate I ne’ertheless embrace
Providence has revealed my place
A character in life’s sweet play
I’ve selected my own role to play
But if the script were mine to write
Would I arise to other heights
Or would I look back and wish to be
That man I am, God chose for me
So, though our hearts will never blend
I’ll hold her as my cherished friend.
Those spiked thorns of sweet gum balls
cause a sprawl
and sprained ankle, close calls
Sour my day, sweet gum balls
curse you! so ill befalls!
Once and for all,
no sweet, no sweet gum balls-poison befalls
your innocent victims, poisonous, vicious, thorny, balls!
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
If only hearts were larger than the mind.
Bleeding for what will never be.
At days end, wrenched to pieces that are key
To having sweet release from what I find.
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
Stained, my love unfit with appetency;
Seeking sweet release; faltered faith in mind.
Bleeding for what will never be.
Dancing in the fire of illicit plea;
willfully chastised for pretending blind.
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
Bound by chafing chains, perpetually;
Suffering, by my hand, for that which binds.
Bleeding for what will never be.
Beating through the ache, marked to set me free;
Quelled by unwholesome thoughts and intertwined.
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
Torturing every fiber of my being;
Stabbing with ferocity redesigned.
Bleeding for what will never be.
Faint, and dying still, mind and heart agree;
Forever bound within these chains I’ll be.
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
Bleeding for what will never be.