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Best Coast To Coast Poems | Poetry

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The Best Coast To Coast Poems

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A Rattling Rhyme


There’s a chill in the air
There’s a word on the street
Be afraid have a care
Put the children to sleep 
She was gone, bells were tolled
But the body’s not cold
For she’s coming again
Yes she’s coming again

It was safe to suppose
She was due to be crowned
Then a young wizard rose
Had them all spellbound
With a look really cool
Like a kid from high school
But she came back again
Yes she came back again
Then she’d surely reside
In a white stately home
She’d the right, qualified
With two X chromosomes 
She’d be in with a song
What could ever go wrong
She was coming again
She was coming again

But an old wizard now
With a strange style of hair
Took the stage took a bow
And with her almost there
She was pipped at the post
Cross the states, coast to coast
She was numbing again
And succumbing again 

Without power came the crash
Sans connections she’d plied
Then the flow of the cash
 Disappeared, nearly dried
So she needs to dispense
With some new influence
So she’s coming again 
Yes she’s coming again

Feel the chill in the air
Hear the word on the street
Be afraid have a care
Put the children to sleep 
So you thought she’d depart
With a stake through the heart
No she’s coming again
Yes she’s coming again

6 August 2018

Copyright © Geoffrey Brewer | Year Posted 2018

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Mine is a land of golden rivers
And glowing sunsets that melt your heart 
A long history of native people in harmony 
With lush wildlife and four seasons

Rich forests covering vast expanses
Mine is a land of golden rivers
Where sockeye salmon race up rapids 
And eagles soar great heights

Cool calm breezes summoning the night
As the moon rises to cast her spell
Mine is a land of golden rivers 
That run wide from coast to coast

Maritimers greeting each morning sun
As it ascends over mountain ranges 
Caressing this topography called Canada
Mine is a land of golden rivers

Submitted on August 21, 2018 for contest MY COUNTRY 'TIS OF THEE WITH FORM INVENTED IN MY COUNTRY sponsored by BRAHN BAILEY

and on August 25, 2018, for contest MOST COMMENTS RECEIVED POEM 2018 sponsored by JULY MORNING

Copyright © Line Gauthier | Year Posted 2018

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East Coast Hype

(A Blank Verse Sonnet)

At fifty-two, a new career is launched
in beauty firm installed on eastern shore,
to aid all those who live with problem skin.
As sales increase, adventure swells; she wins 
awards, free  trips, new friends, and diamond rings.
With pride, she dons the pen for “Be a Ten,”
and coast to coast arrangements spell her norm.
But, friendships wane on jaunty trips, the trek
becomes a stress which brings her less and less
content to show the aloe glow as proof
that older skin need not begin to wear
a shriveled face, but wear a youthful tone.
          And yet, the spark with eastern hype instilled
          a drive to stay the course throughout her life. 


Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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I Said A Prayer Today

Yes, I just want to let you know
I prayed for you today. 
I prayed He'd keep you safe and send
His blessings down your way. 
I prayed that God will meet your needs
And you'll always be glad. 
May your heart be filled with joy. 
May you be never sad. 
I said a prayer for you today
And I know that God heard. 
He knows I meant just what I said.
Yes, every single word.
I wish for all of you, my friends, 
The very best in life. 
That you don't encounter hardships, 
No trouble, hurt, of strife. 
I prayed that God will pull you through
If these things should arise
And that the Lord would comfort you
And wipe tears from your eyes. 
I wish you all the very best
And may God light your way. 
For all my friends from coast to coast, 
I said a prayer today.

Copyright © David Gordon | Year Posted 2014

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Dear Lord, I come before Your Throne,
A friend with me, I bring.
Ask not his name or year of birth,
Or his ethnicity.

A special prayer from You I ask,
For someone I don't know.
He traveled half way round the world
So freedom here can grow.

I do not know how old he is
Or where his family lives.
I simply heard of what he does
And how much good he gives.

With wife and children still at home,
He traveled far away. 
It's Christmas Eve without their Dad,
Because he had to stay.

They cannot share eggnog or cake
With whom they love the most,
Because he guards an enemy gate
For us here, coast to coast.

I know Dear Lord, because of me,
Our nation, he defends.
So when he needs my prayers to You,
On me, he can depend.

Lord, watch his children and his wife
And keep them safe and strong.
Please give them special blessings, Lord,
Until he gets back home.

He counts the days that come and go
Kissing a photo bare,
With tears that slip past lids that hold
His pain, from loneliness, there.

My heart aches deep within my soul,
And gratitude fills my eyes,
For names not known, nor faces shown,
Whose offering is sacrifice.

So for the soldier, brave and strong,
I pray this special prayer.
My home is free and safe tonight
Because he's over there.

Copyright © Teresa Altman | Year Posted 2008

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Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, mirror on the wall Why can't you pick me up when I fall? Why can't you be there when I need you the most? Why can't you travel with me from coast to coast? Why do you trick? And why do you lie? Why can't you hold me when I start to cry? Why can't you be there when stuff goes bad? Why can't you manage to comfort me when I'm sad? You're supposed to be me in that mirror on the wall So mirror, mirror, why can't you pick me up when I fall?

Copyright © Sheryl Lynn Knoles | Year Posted 2011

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Sailing on endless seas
Lost to broken promises

Floating coast to coast
Captured by east and west

Rusting to shattered anchor
Rescued by time to hoister

Two hearts floating forever
In life, each other's lover

An elaborate tombstone
Of coral reef and limestone

When love was romantic
And being in love - fantastic

When a first kiss was poetic
We haunted the Atlantic

On our waves goodbye
Swem and learned to fly

A honeymoon married to the sea
On the skeleton coast's memory

Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2015

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They Call This Social Justice

Once our land stretched from coast to coast
and the drums of the people beat proud
we were mighty and we were strong
     we were happy . . . 
then the white came to our shores
they thought our land was theirs to take
they called it Canada
they brought disease unknown to us
when we fought for what was ours they killed us
    and we killed to . . .  
we were a savage people true and skilled at death
many of our chiefs were tricked to come in peace
     many of our chiefs were hung . . . 
                            they called this justice
             the whites stole our land and our way of life
they massacred the buffalo and bear only for their fur
and left their rotting bodies and we wept for them
the ancestors of our people fly with the eagles
drifting and falling on the wind
    their cry is our cry . . . 
we were herded into reservations like cattle
starved into submission and left a broken people
and they called this justice
but in each of us burns a fire bright that can never die
in each of us is a strength and courage
          a tranquility and serenity
we accept the past as the white acknowledge the wrongs
and the Prime Minister of Canada
is trying to say sorry
     with tears he apologizes to the people for 
the hangings
       the killing of our people
          the stealing of our land
            the 1960 scoop of our children
              the residential schools of abuse
                the highway of tears that goes on and on
yet, the social injustice to the people is still present today
             when they steal the land we have left
for pipelines, and other projects without our agreement
      we want to keep our lands pristine for wildlife
             we do not want polluted water where the fish die
some of us are living in third world conditions still
with no water, electricity, heat . . .  still on reservations
so you tell me where the justice is . . . 
I am just a girl of the here and now but
      but I hear the drums of my ancestors beating
                                      in my heart . . .

April 1, 2018

Poetry/Free Verse/They Call This Social Justice
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1009-383-01
All Rights Reserved.  Written Under Pseudonym.

Written for the contest, Social Justice
sponsor, John Hamilton

First Place

Copyright © Dear Heart | Year Posted 2018

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Mary Disappears Pt 1

As you probably know by now, I love stories about magic mirrors.  Here's another one:

When my Great Aunt Mary looked in her new mirror that night,
       she could see future events that caused her great fright.
So many scary things made her cringe with fear in her face.
       Even though scary wasn't always the case.
She had gotten this mirror for her birthday today.
       But little did she know what a price she would pay.
She could see things that you and I think of as being everyday things.
       Only the blackest of nights, would the mirror bring.
On one night she saw a man named Armstrong whom 
       she heard voices say was walking on the moon.
She heard in the distance from the mirror, in her mind.
        "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."
The mirror would only show her secrets in the darkness of the night.
       Never would it reveal itself, when there was a hint of any light.
Aunt Mary would sneek into the bedroom with much apprehension.
       And always with a candle, to avert the mirror's attention.
The mirror could always sense her presence and was waiting patiently.
       To show her all the things that she was so afraid to see.
The flying machines she saw were huge and people flying coast to coast.
       Not knowing of such things, she thought they were some kind of ghost.
She tried telling people about the things she saw one day.
       But after she told them, most of them would always say,
"That Mary, you know, she's such a good girl, but her minds not quite right."
       Then Mary stopped telling them all the things she saw that gave her a fright.
continued in Pt 2

Copyright © Marty Owens | Year Posted 2009

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Anything but bread

Anything but bread

I bumped into a man named Fred
And listened to each word he said
A story I was soon to dread
For all he talked about was bread

In detail he spoke every slice
Some made of wheat and some of rice
There’s cinnamon and sugar spice
And sourdough he mentioned twice

Banana nut he found so sweet
The perfect early morning treat
With coffee as you take a seat
To bake it though, a major feat

He chronicled each rim of crust
A lighter tan or darker rust
Or sprinkled with a pepper dust
I guess somehow he thought he must

When then he changed and featured toast
I think it’s what he liked the most
I can’t believe how he could boast
He’d tell his tale from coast to coast

I told him I was running late
I had a very special date
A meeting and it couldn’t wait
I headed out beyond the gate

I started walking down the trail
He didn’t stop, I heard him wail
“Be careful of the loaves on sale,
you’ll usually find that they are stale”

Into a café I then fled
And thought about that man named Fred
When asked to order, this I pled
“Just bring me anything but bread” 

Inspired by Maureen McGreavy’s Baker’s Dozen poetry contest

That’ll teach me to read the rules first. : ) 

Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2018

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The shrouds of clouds slim whim accost the sun — The phat and fat, ruddy red and horizon muddy one. Underscore of wavy grass, a sea of bees, life’s core. A hiss of bliss, a slap, a tap of tippy-toe on crazy shore. The forest rests on the pregnant breast of the fireball. The teasing test of wheezing labor on a neighbor’s shawl. The quake of vermillion beads, the wake of creation’s seeds. No weeds in rebirth, the girth of bittersweet tease, broken water bleeds. Crusty-Winter’s crossed. Trim sails from rusty nails and splinter’s cross. Behold the boast from coast to coast, warm the cold, the lost. 10/4/2018 Battle XI/Sponsor - Juli-Michelle

Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2018

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Believability and Truthfulness

Believability  and Truthfulness
By Franklin Price

Believability and Truthfulness 
Are often not the same
Politicians, very often,
Think they're only just a name

What happened to those good old days, 
When a man's word was his bond?
What could it hurt to stretch the truth 
From coast to coast and then beyond?

So far, in this century,
Washington has shown the way
When truth does not produce for them
They try believable to say

Lately that's not working
They've stretched them both until they've popped
It's time to tell the truth again
And this playing games is stopped

If you,ve followed their example,
Lied for your party's hope
You have cursed your reputation
Should have your mouth washed out with soap

I believe the politicians
And the truthful words they say
This stanza writ with fingers crossed 
And tongue in cheek today

Copyright © Franklin Price | Year Posted 2018

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My Little Green Lizard

Today I caught a little green lizard
He was the best one I have ever seen.
I caught him in my lizard-catching net,
He was poised, confident, polite and clean.

His vocabulary was amazing.
He used words like falcon, asinine, and verbose.
His manners were impeccable,
They would astound you coast-to-coast.

His stories caught us by our guts,
And threw our feelings in the air,
They made us laugh and chuckle
Brother Lee fell off his chair.

Tomorrow I will get him licensed,
Purchase him a red-silk-lined top hat and cape,
I will get him certified and tattooed,
The best pet I have had since Homer, my pet ape.

Today I caught a little green lizard,
I will enjoy his exotic stories day by day,
Having a pet is expensive, and wearing,
But worth it in every kind of way.

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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Across our Savanna

From shore to shore coast to coast
We’re the nation with the most

The most of what well lets just see
We lead in infidelity

We lead in sin that is for sure
Pay on Sunday is the cure

I think about our Countries plight
Seems like we have lost all sight

We’re founded in the name of God
Best not be the lightening rod

When lightening strikes it is no joke
Some bears weren’t meant to poke

We poke God every single day
Have no doubt that we will pay

We can’t just mold and bend his word
Expect our prayers to be heard

Forgive me Lord for I have sinned
Words cast out unto the wind

It’s best to live the words you pray
Walking the walk as they say

The Lord gives he can take away
Listen to these words I say

Like monkeys swinging from the trees
We keep doing as we please

One day across our Savanna
Yes, we have no bananas

My punch line is, "Yes, we have no bananas."
All I can say is I tried.

Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2010

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Every thing that is around.
North to South and coast to coast,
My culture.

Weather, land and people,
Pan-o-ramas and political views,
My culture.

The ways of talk, 
The ways of walk,
The game and showmanship,
Work and play,
Night and day,
My culture.

The pros and teachers and striving reachers,
Artisans and preachers and other creatures,
Law people, tall people, all people,
My culture.

Fauna that's left,
Flora that's left,
Fauna and flora that's here,
My culture.

Relatives and friends,
Their thoughts and opinions,
People oblique to those views,
My culture.

Hypocrisy and idiocy,
My culture.

We progress and mature
Through fault,
My culture.

Copyright © Wm Paul | Year Posted 2012

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Common Canadian

Common Loon we love the most Can be seen from coast to coast Across this land gliding on lakes All across Canada the route it takes Nesting on islands surrounded by sea This bird Canadian easy to see Floats so easily dives for fish Just as common our Friday dish A hoot and yodel is its holler Permanent mark Canadian dollar Sleek pointed beak head black as kettle Hardly seen amongst the nettle Around its neck color green black Extending wings or tucked in back Whichever way Canadian beauty Protecting this bird it is our duty Reason why this national treasure No other bird can even measure Common Loon across this land Without doubt a Canadian brand Think Canadian anytime soon Can't be done without the Loon Maple leaf loved in a song Common Loon Canadian strong

Copyright © Ronald Kent | Year Posted 2016

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Shared Ego - Year 2030

Written by Gail DeBole on September 12, 2013

There once were siamese-like twins
Who didn't share organs or limbs.
An ego was shared
Thoughts moving through air
Between sisters Donna and Kim.

With an ego bigger than most
The twins did nothing but boast
of trophies and wins
And spectacular whims.
The sisters were known coast-to-coast.

Copyright © Gail DeBole | Year Posted 2013

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Coast to coast across England in one day
A hundred miles in one trip.
Bike like a rocket each sprocket fits its socket  
With well oiled smoothness of  clockwork
Feels good as chain clunks from one socket to the next
And the ticking whirring of freewheel
And zipping noise of fast tires on flat ashphalt
Hum a song to me as I lean over  into the bend
And the bike leans with me.
Smooth road; never mind the few bumps;
And air so fresh you could eat it in lumps. 
Aroma  of  York’s  chocolate  ten miles away, 
Bread-baking  and brewing  downwind of Carlisle 
Make me ready for dinner. And  the strong
Odour  of fish in North Shields,
Stink of cattle feed outside   Goole, 
Sickly smell of plastics factory,  oil newly-refined,
Makes you see even if you’re blind.
Makes me want  to pedal for home.

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011

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Able bodied apple eaters let 
lonely lillies lie littering Lucy lake

If inadequate information applies
Then it must be fake.

When thirty three thirsty tenants throw tea
To those that catch it, what we have is 
Ice tea for those with ice that fetch it.

Just judges joined jostling  Jones gym 
Generating gigantic muscle mass 

Boisterous body builders blew kisses at
Sisters seeking sameness socially

So since surround sound systematically

Wanderers watched Wednesday's worst 
But forgot HEALTHY hands helped heal
Hatred and send forget-me-nots

Afternoon artificial apple eaters
Habitually applied after sunset is 
Artfully denied

Naturally needing nourishing apples
On the California coastline gave us all
Sun kissed skin

How? WHERE? What? Why? And when?
Basically boisterous questioning lead to

Since suntans did sustain this is where 
Alliteration Nation stakes its flag and finds
Its FAME. Here is where Alliteration
Nation goes forth

To fling fruit and freezing froth.
From coast to coast and way up North.
Corners fourth

This stop is where Alliteration gets off.

Copyright © VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Year Posted 2015

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persecution is starting to grow
from coast to coast
persecution even comes from those
you care about  the most
husbands wives sisters and brothers too
can sometimes even persecute you
persecution is dished out to us
like food on  a plate
but we can call on the Lord it's never too late
take to the cross all your troubles
your burdens and your pain
for he will restore you and make you whole again
he will refresh you and make you anew
he will be with you no matter what you
have to go through
persecution is something we  may not always understand
but there is comfort knowing
God is always with us
holding us in the palm of his hand
if your'e feeling persecuted or it feels like something is trying to make you fall
just hand it over to the Lord
for he's the one who will take care of it all.
 2 Thessalonians 2:  3-12

We thank you Lord
that when persecution comes our way
you help us and strengthen us 
in every single way
there is no problem to big or too small
whateevr  our situation you help us face them all,
thank you for you Love
thank you that you care
thank you that your'e always there  Amen.  

I lift my eyes up to the mountain where does my help come from?
my help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.  psalm 121 :   1-2

Copyright © diane christian | Year Posted 2010

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AMERICA'S HYPOCRISY or The School of Resentment

are you free, humanity, by power of love 
or in chain by love of power or by lack of it? 

a student of The School of Resentment asks…

back in time,
at such dominant spaces  
called Shunganunga, here
or Hora Arsadi, Malka Atete, Tullu Nam Dur, there—
where points of above and below meet
where people went to fast to be alone with spirit 

and  where Natives preached to their youth
the “Seven-Generations Principle,”
that every Native should keep in mind:

whatever decision she or he was to make 
in lifetime
would affect seven generations to come!  

now, Puritans came, 
and preached to the  Natives:

that they came to “PACIFY,” to “CIVILIZE”
and that God gave them the land—
a safe haven to be free from EVIL!

those freedom fighters 
sooner or later 
banned the Natives’ right
and burned, slashed and killed buffaloes
cut down timbers, and disrupted nature! 

now, Thomas Paine rose
and nailed the principle of independence 
and, at the same time, engraved 
the creed of Manifest Destiny
in the Common Sense:
that the coast to coast expansion 
was justifiable and inevitable destiny! 

now, Walt Whitman rose 
and hailed “sex contains all!”
in his “A Woman Waits for Me”—
an ode to procreation or miscegenation 
in which he strips 
women of their independence
and Natives 
of their self-assurance—
unlike his “Democratic Vistas”!

now, we have come too long a road
from “A Woman Waits for Me” of ***** 
from the “White Man’s Burden,”
to "The Vagina Monologue"

and to sing:

No society can be immune 
to hypocrisy, social pretension, anarchism, oblivion,
until it refutes itself against its foundation values:

Manifest Destiny, Removal Act, Trail of Tears, Slavery,
and racism, the neo-Jim Crow—
going on everywhere and anywhere in disguise!

and to adhere to Democratic Principles!

in a society where economic freedom is at its center,  
Individual Liberty, for the Individual 
without Food without Shelter, 
is virtually impossible, manifestly a lie—
or it is only politically correct! 

now, before we go without going 
it is time for us to learn new prayers

and thus the Pastor leads the prayer:

there is no Poor on this land
only the Rich and the not-so-Rich

we are all equal!

now we are not in jail or in chain
now we have a gun to fire 
now, we can tear down Nature to see God’s face!

now, we embrace our Individualism

now, bless these couples:

he and he
she and she

we trust in GOLD!




Copyright © Assefa Dibaba | Year Posted 2015

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Blue sky eastward kisses a glistening green sea,
Golden sand stretches endlessly on before me.
Cry’s of gulls and sounds of waves gently rolling,
Promise a day filled with people slowly strolling.
Up and down that golden strand they walk,
Carrying towels, sometimes pausing to talk.

Grey blue mist covers mountains in the west,
Cliffs and streams, in nature it is blessed.
Fires scorch the land in the summer’s heat,
In winters watch, comes the Snow and sleet.
Always the cycle goes on, death and rebirth,
For this sunburnt land is the oldest on earth.

Southern pastures carpeted in lush green,
Everywhere Sheep and cattle can be seen.
Slowly the settlers tamed the harsh land,
Shaped it and carved it with their bare hand.
Barley and golden wheat sheath the soil,
Against this hard land farmers strive and toil.

Small coves and beaches to the north abound,
Silent and deserted for most the year round.
Summer arrives and the city rises to the call,
Time for the people to forget works thrall.
They fill the resorts and small county towns,
Parents and children, joyous are their sounds.

Some call Australia a continent some an Isle,
It is the land that always makes me smile.
There are many cities rising into the sky,
The beauty of the bush can make you cry.
From coast to coast, from desert to snow,
It is the home from which I will never go!

Shane Cooper

Written some months ago for collaboration, this never came to fruition.
It is not what I planned still  I hope it can stand on its own.

Copyright © Shane Cooper | Year Posted 2015

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Who's The Best

Again, I've been listening to people boast, you can't miss it because it's on T.V. radio and now coast to coast. More and more, people with their chests stuck out, bragging, I am the best all for me and to Hell with the rest. They laugh about it like it's a joke while around their necks they are placing a very heavy yoke. For running the world is a tremendous task, I don't think none is ready, you will have to be a true king, not and not a bit petty.

I use to hear, what can I help you with or what do you need? Now it's what can you do for me? It's become all about greed. We all have an emptiness inside that needs to be filled, we try money, sex and drugs to reach a state of bliss, like a shot in the dark we all miss. So we become miserable and try to make people see things our way, while thing it's funny when we screw up someone's day. I hear the truth shall set you free, well here's the truth, misery really do love company. 

Because from God people are getting further away and becoming worse every day. They are becoming very bold, while their hearts are turning ice cold. So I looked to The Father and while giving Him praise, I asked Heavenly Father are we really living in the last days. And this came to me, read your Bible, it's all in prophecy. They shall take God's ways and hang them on the shelf. 2Tim.3. For people shall become lovers of their own selves.

Covetous, boasters and proud to name a few, just some of the ways people will ensue. But don't loose heart the Angels are about to sing, heads up everybody cause here come the True King. Like none we've ever seen. He was here before the world began and came to Earth to take away all our sin. Now it might look like the battle has been lost, Absolutely not, the battle was won when He was nailed to the cross.

Read your Bible it's the source, it's all been worked out, just hang in there and let it run it's course. So all the high and mighty, who think you are so hard, you are about to meet, The King of Kings and Lord of Lords. No bragging, no boasting, you shall stand in awe with the rest, where every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess. Now Who's The best? He was here before and He shall return to sit on the throne of the Earth, there's no reason to be concerned.

We shall live for ever and for ever be free, no more stress or living in poverty. For we shall be in the hands of God Almighty... Hark, The Angels are about to sing, heads up everybody here come The King.

Copyright © Milton Robertson | Year Posted 2015

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Silver Streak

All aboard the Rhode Island Line!
We're guaranteed to be on time
Grab your suitcase, grab your coat
Be a tourist, coast to coast
Write a postcard, you will boast
about what you've seen up close!

Let's make the traffic wait
stuck behind  a crossing gate
Boxcars, hoppers, and sleeping cars
strung together, and going far
rumbling down the railroad track

Don't bother looking back
Up the slippery slope
Engine takes the lead
Picking up some speed

Convoluted smoky trails
Consolidated silver tails
Contemplating railroad tales 

Whistles blast!
Whizzing past!


10/17/14  For Andrea's "I Don't Know" Contest

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014

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The Great Fish Maui Snared

With canoe and hook of a jaw-bone
 below a great fish Maui snared;
and his brothers half-crazed behaving
 leapt and gouged in frenzy craving.
From Palliser Bay to Cape Reinga
 (departing place of the spirits),
from Egmont in the west to Mt Hikurangi
 where dawn's light is first to see

Home where the far north narrows
 to the thousand year Kauri;
when whalers from her tall trunks vast
 made the finest spar and mast.
In those giant limbed canopied pillars
 echo the sounds of the ages,
from coast to coast on great sandy reach,
 Doubtless Bay to Ninety Mile Beach

Hokianga to Kaipara to Waitemata 
 with coves and tawny sandhills;
where navigators of old voyaged erstwhile
 Hauraki Gulf and Great Barrier Isle.
To yon trail where the mighty trio rise:
 Ruapehu; Tongariro; Ngauruhoe;
with their deep crater lakes and icy snow
 spew ash and rock on plains below

In rocky Coromandel peninsula hills
 once glittered nuggets of gold;
now all that glitters its coves and bends
 is the sun off the Firth of Thames.
Land of the ancient Maori fortified pa
 and colony pioneer settlements;
when village tribe gathered in bounty
 food of the earth and sky and sea

Down the gorge rapids of Huka Falls
 a malestrom of turquoise green;
and beyond its wild white water waves
 Waitomo's dark and glowing caves.
A journey through its volcanic plateau
 basalt and granite igneous rock;
wherein lies below its caldera so steep
 in the heart of Taupo's big deep

Beech forests whisked by desert winds,
 wilderness and eeling swamps...
the volcanic pumice flats that dormant lie
 and molten fountains in the sky.
Willow trees, poplars, totara, pines
 on Lake Waikaremoana's shore;
Poverty Bay - where Captain Cook said
"there behold! Young Nick's Head"

In Frying Pan's Echo Lake cauldron,
 Venus Baths; Champagne Pool...
Rotorua's hot sulphurous breath await
 in muddy springs at Hell's Gate.
See hidden valleys and mountain mists
 in the ring of fire; this shaky isle;
by the smouldering cliffs at their sheerest
 a thermal wonderland silica terrace

The moa hunters roamed this land
 in the forest and on the plain;
now the tattooed warrior becomes so
 like that flightless bird long ago.
From the depths of myth and legend 
 these spirits of its ancestors live;
where the morning sun has its sky reared
 it wakes the great fish Maui snared.


                  May 1996

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014