Best Char Poems
Char- Sun
On the night of the charred sun a male child is born
The Indians called the harvest Moon a charred sun
This became the child’s name as he grew in wisdom
He was not a warrior he was born to be a healer
Char sun grew into a very strong spiritual man
When he was small, a white man had given him a flute
He told Char sun if he learned to play it, sweet music would arise
All of nature’s living things would come to sit at his feet
He would sneak off into the woods for hours at a time practicing
One night Char sun saw the same Moon he was born under
A voice began to speak to him and a fire entered him
The voice told him to play your gift will lead you
His fingers flew across the flute and the music was sweet
Coming from the forest were the deer, squirrels, eagles and bears
The rest of the tribe heard the music and began pouring into the forest
Curious about where the sweet music was coming from and why
Arriving upon such as seen the chief bent down and knelt on one knee
The remainder of the tribe slowly dropped one by one to their knees
For Char sun has become the holy man within the tribe
The animals that follow him carry the spirits of our ancestors
The chief stands to his feet and declares “This night Char sun
Has become our holy man called by the great king of the sky
The song of their tribe began to rise, paying homage to the king
Our winters will be fruitful and our land will prosper cried the chief
Char son was born to guide us into the holy lands
Each warrior here will follow and protect him
The buffalo will run and our bellies will be full
Our time of famine has been broken through the gift
Of
Char sun
Carole Cookie Arnold
Constance La France’s Contest
Tell His Story
Char enjoyed this new family; the little one liked a cuddle.
The house had not housed a toddler for over fourteen years.
She began to sing her lullaby, and he settled right down.
She spent more time comforting him than his mother.
She sensed the man before his shadow darkened the doorway.
He came inside and smiled at his son; he really liked this little one.
Char felt no animosity toward him; he had not shown any meanness.
She remembered her own father and cringed; he had been a tyrant.
Everything had to be his way. Her mother had been cowed by him.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up, validation he was not alone.
“Hello?” Char was quiet, slipping backwards into the shadows.
If they used cleansing sage, she would have to stop singing lullabies.
The toddler’s eyes closed; he was content, feeling all this love.
She had nothing but affection for this little guy.
“DADDY!” That child was another story, a princess, spoiled and abrupt.
Cara wished she would leave with the mother and leave the men to her.
CUPPA CHAR
When the world is spinning and all logic is gone
No sense of winning, and nothing to think upon
Then sit down for a rest, as it’s time for a brew
A cup of tea is the best, made proper and true
So warm up the pot, so it is good and ready
Swill water that’s hot, with a hand that’s steady
Then spoon in tea leaves, one each plus one
The strength one achieves, once it’s begun
Boiling water poured in, then give it a stir
Let the brewing begin, but too quick is a sin
A few minutes later, prepare cups with milk
Some prefer later, as with others of that ilk
A clear golden liquid, with a subtle scent
Lift the teapot lid and stir with good intent
Tea leaves now sunk, time to gently pour
Ready to be drunk, but slowly, it’s the law.
It’s best in a china cup, yet who knows why
Always drink it up, holding little finger high
One makes the tea in the way that’s directed
And sip it tastefully, in a manner so affected
Char is in social media jail.
She has been kicked off for one month.
No idea why, she tells me.
Isn’t this the third time? I ask her.
“Sixteenth time,” Char says. Then she laughs.
I suggest she stop posting political views on her page.
That’s the only reason I am on social media, she tells me.
A month later she gets kicked off after one hour.
No idea why, she tells me.
Do not ask me for an opinion Char said
I don’t have them
This amazes me
I follow her around for days, listening to her talk
She has opinions on everything
the sky, the moon, the sidewalk, the streetlights,
the neighbors, her friends, her relatives,
Her opinions come out with every breath she takes
She is actually more opinionated than most
Which also proves
she is disillusioned or a liar