Best Brings Poems
It seems that all my life I’ve seen some darker times
Now and then the times I knew were more than I could stand.
But, learn we must, from all hard times and soon we come to know
It’s trying times that we go through that makes a boy a man.
When we feel weak at heart and think we’ll never make it
Our spirit strengthens us to somehow carry on.
It’s then we learn that just at midnight things could get no worse
And soon we see the darkness fade and midnight brings the dawn.
Every midnight has a dawning
Every dawning has a day
Where daylight shines on things remembered
And some things lost along the way.
And every passing daylight
Brings evening into play
Where we’ll face another midnight
That brings, yet, one more dawning day.
It seems a pattern thus emerges,
Monotonous as it may seem,
Every midnight brings a dawning,
Filled with all our daylight dreams.
Dreams are meant to bring survival
To those who may have lost their way.
Who found the darkness of the midnight
Kept the dawning light at bay.
So, as near as I can figure,
There’s this we can rely on
However bleak the darkest midnight,
After midnight comes the dawn.
Written by John Posey
04/09/13
Emerald etchings are given birth
to bask their lives in summer's sun,
until brushing brutal winters cheek,
They cower yellow; brown undone.
Swirling down onto concrete pyres,
They somersault to a random grave.
The earth lays claim to copper corpses
But the winter wind is a cunning knave.
It finds and flips the fallen fibers,
then flings them crisply to the street.
The failing sheaves of burnt magenta,
tossed like chaff from harvest wheat.
Now strewn about with playful malice,
and denied the resting place they crave,
for the golden sun is a glint of amber,
but the winter wind is a chilling knave.
When Night Brings Its Stillness, Silence And Tick, Tick, Tick
Collaboration with Robert Lindley
8th March 2019
Town was quiet, its heart barely beating
midnight hour came and went so fast
moon and stars blinked through open window
silence echoed in the town's invisible pulse
Strange how life gives night its powers
its more peaceful and murmuring tones
we that too oft wake to its untimely sounds
feel crushing aches in our despairing souls
Clock watching becomes our pride-less new sport
with tick, tick, tick, its rallying calls
and when that strain promises to explode
we pray dawn's falling rays wakes world's all.
We thought not to wake too soon
yet feared we may not wake at all
and tick, tick, tick, rhythm hypnotised us,
we watched no clock, but listened a while,
until it lulled our weary eyes to sleep;
we woke uninvited, but unknowingly compelled,
tones unheard would not have been peaceful
and nights powers made us beg for our lives;
the town purred with morbid contentment,
moon and stars stroked its back,
between midnight and dawn we writhed,
the quiet town passively cursed us.
Becoming righteous is a high ask
who indeed can claim this real prize
for God declares all as sinners
so need God to give you rise
Being able to achieve righteous deeds
won't bring a righteousness divine
for deeds can't make you such
only God can show you His sign
God is the author of true righteousness
for He is righteous perfectly true
always has been past and forever
brings Christ's imputed righteousness upon you
The good Lord now sees us as Christ
with His righteousness upon our frame
so God accepts us as His holy ones
now Satan can't cast us with any blame
Now we can do righteous deeds
seeing we are righteous altogether
such a blessing and privilege to have
God has endowed it upon us forever
(Quote:
" We do not become righteous by doing righteous deeds but, having been made righteous, we do righteous deeds".)
- Martin Luther ( 1483-1546)
When Night Brings Its Stillness, Silence And Tick, Tick, Tick
Town was quiet, its heart barely beating
midnight hour came and went so fast
moon and stars blinked through open window
silence echoed in the town's invisible pulse
Strange how life gives night its powers
its more peaceful and murmuring tones
we that too oft wake to its untimely sounds
feel crushing aches in our despairing souls
Clock watching becomes our pride-less new sport
with tick, tick, tick, its rallying calls
and when that strain promises to explode
we pray dawn's falling rays wakes world's all.
We thought not to wake too soon
yet feared we may not wake at all
and tick, tick, tick, rhythm hypnotised us,
we watched no clock, but listened a while,
until it lulled our weary eyes to sleep;
we woke uninvited, but unknowingly compelled,
tones unheard would not have been peaceful
and nights powers made us beg for our lives;
the town purred with morbid contentment,
moon and stars stroked its back,
between midnight and dawn we writhed,
the quiet town passively cursed us.
A Robert J. Lindley and Lawrence Sharp collaboration
3-08-2019
Note: Yet again you honor me by agreeing to compose poetry with this old and far too oft very tired poet. I knew your verses would be golden and continue this piece wonderfully to its conclusion. Thanks for gifting such magnificent verse to this our newest creation..
That first morning moment we awaken and our eyes meet
When the sun shines upon you, your face sparkles so sweet
The way you play and say kind words to me when you toy
When you whisper to me, you are my love, pride and joy
When we get cozy side by side I tingle in the solemn night
That fuzzy warm feeling I get when your arms hold me tight
When you sing of times we have shared, getting ready for bed
When you recite Keats, Byron and Poe off the top of your head
When you ravish me and relish me with oodles of affection
When we slurp noodles, we have the twin flame connection
How you're kind to animals, excite them with your quirky voices
You always get me, I dig it when you help with simple choices
When I’m sad you make me laugh with your shameless jokes
What pleasurable delights and suggestions your mind evokes
When you pray for more kindness less hate in the world
When your cheeks blush bold with your soul unfurled
He has put a pair together and I am one of them it’s clear
You are a Godsend, you are a precious stone and my dear
Knowing I’m with you, you with me, always having you here
I’ll never truly be alone in my heart when you're away or near
Emerald etchings are given birth
to bask their lives in summer’s sun,
until brushing brutal winters cheek,
they cower yellow; brown undone.
Swirling down onto concrete pyres,
they somersault to a random grave.
The earth lays claim to copper corpses
but the winter wind is a cunning knave.
It finds and flips these fallen fibers,
then flings them crisply to the street.
The falling sheaves of burnt magenta,
tossed like chaff from harvest wheat.
Now strewn about with playful malice,
and denied the resting place they crave,
for the golden sun is a glint of amber,
but the winter wind is a chilling knave.
Welcome in the Fall of life Spring enters
Loves emptied heart replenished with his touch
I become his Muse and he is my center
Lips burning passion captured in his clutch
Shared breath nothing compares to this splendor
Two bodies align in time they are flush
Worn hearts beating young with exhilaration
Once again falling into loves temptation
Contest: New Love
Sponsored by, Jarred Pickett
Ottava rima
How to stop swift and stealthy time that brings death?
Must we think only of victories, not defeats
and deny that all we posses will be lost as wealth?
Disease and age are our enemies...doesn't health control heartbeats?
Spread those tables and enjoy your food and wine,
dance and sing when sadness knocks, indulge in a life simply divine!
Should we live in the moment as the ancient Romans did indeed:
constantly thinking of invincibility and immortality...
shrugging off days and years of dire uncertainty;
wouldn't it be absurd to embody the essence of their creed?
In South Africa Lekker is a portent of good as the word, " Omens " is;
try to include it in your daily speech and write yourself a funny phrase!
Some may say, " It's madness! " and laugh as a delirious Macbeth;
others will accept it and suddenly forget that they are going to die
by contemplating this motto," How to stop swift and stealthy time that brings death? "
God's curse on the human race can be undone, if we don't believe Satan's lie!
How to stop swift and stealthy time that brings death?
Isn't it an impossible wish for all the living who can't escape reality?
Although science offers much hope with their findings on longevity...
we are bound for our graves without a single breath!
I promise him the moon, but who really cares?
Charlie for sure finds my words hard to forget.
He pouts and he pleads, while I pull my hair,
then the tears come ‘cause his mind is all set.
Charlie for sure finds my words hard to forget,
the times I fail to fulfill what I've said.
Then the tears come ‘cause his mind is all set.
Tomorrow brings sorrow, what goes through his head?
The times I fail to fulfill what I've said,
I’m careless and put my own longings first
Tomorrow brings sorrow, what goes through his head?
Charlie suffers neglect and feels accursed.
I’m careless and put my own longings first;
he pouts and he pleads, while I pull my hair.
Charlie suffers neglect and feels accursed;
I promise him the moon, but who really cares?
written May 24, 2017
***AND NOW GOD BRINGS TO YOU… ***
Ladies and Gentlemen!
Through the auspices of
Our Glorious God’s
Creation Company…
Traveling the infinite of Love…
Across the heavens, then
Through our atmosphere, and,
With His eternal nearness to
The Earth’s moving horizons ~
In His wanting to reach
Every bedroom
Door and window with His Light…
All rise, please, as
The New Day
Now Presents to you:
The Sun!
See how
She first appears with a single, flaming peek
Out from beneath
The opaque black curtain of night,
Which stirs us to wake from
The forgettable dreams of dead sleep.
The fanfare of trees,*
which grows and breathes,
just beyond my window,
Now tunes up to accompany
Sun’s early swim up the sky,
Their punctuating notes, their leaves
swishing and flittering
In time with whistling breezes to
Signal
Sun has begun
Her welcomed performance —
Quite delighting our eyes
With her dazzling, ornate, orange dress.
There are exclaiming cheers heard
from Mother Nature’s
“Sold-out” audience — that color-lush
Everywhere around,
Holding hope for this re-rebirth of
A new day, preceding all
The days of discovery still to come.
————————————————
** Note: “fanfare” of trees —
SO, For the trees outside my window, it is not a “group, border, array, cluster, grove, mass, or forest.” Since I needed to describe and define with a NEW adjective, Writer’s License was used - after research — i coin the trees with whom I interac as a “fanfare” of trees, meaning essentially, an ‘addition’ or enhancement to a specified principal thing, which adds value.
Written with concern for world’s areas
surfering severe drought. Prayers going
Up for your relief & all peoples to work on the global environmental crisis.
(c) sally young eslinger 1012/22
Rose exquisitely you colour
my every wish silken touches jewels
When a dream comes true
from the flames blushing petals
Sweetest dove loving cotton shades the warmness
blue crowns baby hues Heaven's aura circles
Beholding from a heart it's fragrance lingers
kissed moistly by the foggy dew
Heartbreak brings more strength
By: Ireland Dowd
Heartbreak is like a lit candle that is blown out.
Everything you know is only doubted.
A sad flashback of the memories you had shouted.
Right at the moment, those tears begin to sprout.
Time is a devil bringing bad instead of good, causing an emotional drought.
Breaking all you had and along with it all that you were.
Rocketing down is your hereabouts.
Empty is your heart of gold, empty but, devout.
A round of emotions in a roundabout.
Killing those who are as strong as they walkabout.
Bringing a sudden round of qualms
Ringing bells of several sounds
I hear cheers go out of bounds.
Never again hearing those hopeful sounds.
Giving hope to those around.
Sounds the leaving clouds.
Medicine racing through my veins like it's playing a game.
Oh glorious sun, Oh where did you go?
Rare are people who actually know...
Everything you are not ready to show.
Strength is an aftereffect of all of the hardships you undergo.
Try, try to let it all go.
Rise up when someone hurts you.
Even when you’re feeling blue.
Never give up on the sun that comes and goes.
Gaieties form when you choose to grow.
The technique is what’ll make the positivities show.
Heartbreak brings more strength.
Though we look out about yonder
in the sky, there is no sunshine
but what's not visible is still there
reveals its effect so we can dine
There is such heat to experience
so much is there for surely everyone
if people would just believe this is so
to receive such heat then its done
Everyone is so visibly transfixed
thinks if not seen it cannot be
but these sun effects can be so felt
even when not seen, still you are free
The whole day is completely done
but looking back you feel real hope
on the horizon one senses truth
there you cling to that sure rope
Learn to never ever give up hope
tomorrow could be your expected day
remember that invisible sun up there
by faith look on to find your way
The verse from 'The Invisible Sun'
("There has to be an invisible sun
It gives its heat to everyone
There has to be an invisible sun
That gives us hope when the whole day's done.")
- Gordon Sumner (Sting - The Police)
She speaks
sweetest confections
purest ingredients
tastiest treats
scrumptious delight
She sings
cool summer breeze
wind through my hair
worries recede
ray of sunlight
She sleeps
prayers have been answered
dreams are revealed
touched by an angel
heavenly sight
My Little Girl