Best Appreciating Poems
Changing your priorities
broadens the width of your scope.
And you start searching your heart
for a faint glimmer of hope.
Luck leaps merrily along,
then makes a sharp reversal.
For life's not a Broadway play;
there's no script or rehearsal.
The beauty of Winter's white
leaves Autumn colors in doubt.
And as tears irrigate guilt;
anxieties start to sprout.
Reality devastates
dreams, tethered to hope and time.
For emotions are fickle,
often turning on a dime.
Live your life to its fullest,
or it'll simply slip away.
And you can start by merely
appreciating today.
You didn't come from money
And you never had it made
Worked as a child and surrendered
All the money you were paid
You turned your hopes into reality
And I know that it's because
You learned as soon as you could walk
That that's what hard work always does
Your morals are the road you choose
Paved without compromise
Your faith to travel it was strengthened
When only God could dry your eyes
And when the haters filled your cup
And they would try to make you chug
You spat it out and chose the wine
Made only from the fruits of love
You filtered foolishness from truth
And you became a knowledge sponge!
Wise words you heard throughout your life
Were in the counselling you've done
If there's one thing that I've learned from you
It is: Listen to the wise
A well of wisdom fills itself
When someone keeps an open mind
The young lieutenant's uniform
pressed and fit; a second skin
he was young; strong, as once was I
On his face the surety of innocence,
it set his jaw, as mine had been
back when good and bad were well defined.
In the airport, where we met,
inquired he of my service
the boarding call disrupted my reply.
"as a thank you for your service
we will board our soldiers first."
He stood to the applause
of those nearby.
Conflicted, I stood with him;
forced my hands together
as I thought about a briefing;
South East Asia, Sixty Nine
"Don't go home in your uniform,
its best to change to civies.
boys, this isn't something you have done,
its just the country's mood."
Faces of the dead came back
from where I had them
deeply buried.
To rail against the irony
unknowingly displayed.
Enveloped in their bitterness
I pocketed my hands.
Yet, I knew I should be thankful
the country finally found the will
to separate the soldier from the war
But forty years of silence
wields cynicism's sword;
vague crusades abandoned;
honor still in question
The spectre of a bloody flag
in its time would touch us both
different lands, each passion stained.
Yours bellows, a cacophony;
bugles known to me as mute.
...yet I applauded
a coward to my own belief:
the day will come your quest requires
some willing men
to hold that flag aloft!
I bid you well lieutenant,
for I surely know your sacrifice
better than this airport crowd,
perhaps, better than you.
And forty years from now
should you come upon a soldier,
I will pray you can applaud him
without anger.
Appreciating Life.
Use every morning to celebrate another day-
Appreciate the dawning, and live life while you may.
Many eyes did not open with this morning's light,
Many hearts are broken when ends the night.
Try to appreciate your life in every way
And remember - some people don't have today!
Slowing my mind to analyze each finger as an individual
My fingers are individual in nature. I see them as unique tools each having a body of character necessary to meet my every whim.
Left pinky is permanently bent from football and rugby but can perform tricks like bending on its own unattached from the others. It falls asleep often and to much my surprise enjoys it!
My left ring finger is also sleepy and has a nail that can grow out over night. The only finger with a ring, its heavy and comfortable most times.
My left middle is long and bony. The nail has vertical etches that make it unique and a white cloud that never grows away.
Left pointer with its necessary manicured nail and strong supportive girth is my favorite, it is my work horse. It carries extra skin around the knuckle that bends awkardly.
The left thumb is nail bitten and ugly. Peeling skin just below the nail and large knuckle that is cracked often hint at my job.
My other hand is strong and exhausted from nail biting and use. Not flowery, ring bearing mirrors of the left but empty shells of crooked scars and dreary work days. The right hand and fingers are not appreciated.
The sun will shine, and the clouds will rain
these winds will blow, and love will yet feign
the eye will see, and the heart will crave
the body will sin, and sin will enslave
The baby will crawl, and the boy will walk
the man will run, and love will soon talk
love's burning desire, but a fleeting fire
age overcomes, desires quickly retire
The old man now stooped over
memories have but faded away
that life once full of living, alas
sitting in solitude, nothing but decay
So in youth, don't ever miss the chance
never stop dreaming, a time for romance
the days are shadows, years will soon disappear
don't miss these opportunities when you're young
just because of this word called fear
In marble mortar his pestle struck
fragmented vermilion flakes,
ground fine into powder base
"The Girl with a wine glass"
Artist's current work
Sunburst highlights
Satin sheen
Captures
Time
Favourite Artist -
Johannes Vermeer
The fingers explore new heights
As colors express the limbs
Blue irradiates the town
As true darkness falls
Hidden eyes escape the sight
Of the bell tower entrance
It rings with purposeful hand
Gone are the lost men
The trees linger, still around
Loving the strong mastered forms
The city escapes no one
The lack of light hates
The lighthouse near the ocean
Lights everywhere near the shore
Color doesn’t show itself
For the darkness reigns
Open is the city’s front gates
Blue is the darkest of night
Evening breaks concentration
The tree brings new hope
Russell Sivey
Little Cindy Lou Who
Won’t let the Grinch be blue
optimist for sure
her heart is utterly pure
She expects the best
At Whoville Christmas Fest
Grinch comes around
Happiness is found
Butterfly girl greets the quiet wren in a field of corn
Where yellow and light green vegetation is often born
Far off they hear an accordion and a Romanian horn.
Melodies are terrific says a dwarf who arrived this morn.
Soft-spoken wren opens up his beak to sing a song.
It is exactly short enough, not too brief or too long.
Your voice is delicious says the girl named Lee Armstrong.
With that kind of warbling, how can you go wrong?
11/10/2023
When you have thoughts that bring might you down,
Remember, please do, The Almighty, made no clowns!
Appreciate whatever, any and all things you can do!
Do not compare yourself to another, it’s a day you will rue.
Know that you are special as the bright star in the autumnal sky.
See the divine in others,and in you, and not once ask why?
Neither compare yourself th a single other.
We all are part of the sams family, human sisters and brothers!
I guess I have these momentary choices,
some days privileged with more
and some more challenged
by un-privileged less experience
with ego/eco-centric bilateral choice,
Do I want to know and love myself more
for how I am different and special
unique and maybe a bit brightly privileged
right now?
Or am I more self-appreciative
for not depreciating
how we are most resiliently the same
rather than mere interdependent flaring fragments
replacing original hopes for win/win synergy
with ultimate fears against win/lose sameness,
remembering both/and unity
with more gravitas than either/or uniformity
Of whole ecosystemic Earth
co-arising win/win
revolutionary radical cooperative choice
to resist those future moments
more One RabidNest felt
through dim ego shadows
of self-perpetuating
yet never chosen loneliness.
Rubenesque Hilda loved her ample rotund girth
As did her enamored husband, Charlie McMirth
She was corpulently rounded, and forever fine.
Charlie often said “I am grateful that Hilda is mine.”
Nestled in the hills, with panoramic view
Of hills and valleys and skies of blue
I sit on the porch in the morning hours
And listen to the birds and enjoy the flowers.
Sometimes the wind is all that I hear
It is quiet and calm beyond compare
A meditative energy fills the air
And fond memories emerge
That I hold so dear
At first there was the patter of tiny feet
Happy laughter and voices of children so sweet
Then there was swimming in the pool with our friends
And barbecues and music and dance on weekends
But the Ivy covered entrance with its secret garden
With fish in the fountain and brightly coloured Croton
Is where I linger to replenish me
And escape from the chaos and noise to be free.
The expansive lawns give a feeling of space
To wander and delight in the flora of the place
There is bright beaugainvillia, many colours to see
And Alamandas and coffee Rose and a blossoming tree
The Poinciana tree with its flagrant red
Forms a canopy so beautiful I’ve often said
T’is the best, but then there’s the Poui laden with flowers
So delicate and exotic, I could stare for hours
A variety of palms, some standing tall, some like a fan
Make their presence felt, they were part of the plan
It’s a place to turn inwards and nurture the soul
And ask if you are playing a fulfilling role.
By: Winsome Miller-Rowe
Old moon was leaving; he said his goodbyes to creatures of the night.
Butterflies and moths felt sad, knowing they would now never see his light.
Luna moths decided to surprise him, and they turned brilliantly white.
To show their appreciation, letting retiring old moon see their bright.