Best Ere Poems
All are feeling anxious on the old camp ground this night.
Weary Yanks are girding for tomorrow's awful fight.
Young soldiers loll about, staring blankly into slowly dying embers,
Dreaming of home, recalling happier times that each remembers.
Supper is finished, the usual rancid coffee, hardtack and beans.
The sentries call out, "All Is Well!", one of their hourly routines.
Sergeants huddle with comrades, offering solace to their platoon.
From across the way is heard a harmonica's melancholy tune.
From afar, Rebel cannon is heard, a portent of things to come.
Men in gray are readied for battle to the beat of muffled drum.
The ebon sky is aglow with the cannons' awesome display,
Competing with the moon, overshadowing its mellow ray.
Here and there a Bible is opened to the Twenty-third Psalm,
To once again be comforted by that eternal message of calm.
Pensive eyes that on the 'morrow may be forever sealed,
Gaze upward, imploring God's embrace as their guardian shield.
Hastily penned notes read, "If I should be borne to heaven above,
Know that we will be reunited in The Father's gracious love!"
Gallant men draw upon their innate will, apprehensions to allay.
The dulcet strains of "Taps" lowers the curtain on another day.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Terror filled me ere I slept,
Horrors loomed behind closed eyes.
I recalled Your promise kept;
Darkest visions turned to peaceful sighs.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
(For the ‘Lind30’ Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
2/4/22)
~In reply to Rick's prelude shown below~
I am your rose, free of thorns
walk beside me and conceive
our spirits mingling in love
hearts singing in perfect harmony
A sweet concerto beneath the stars
duet applauded by a haloed moon
in refrain, our kisses lingering
'ere the sun casts the glow of dawn
~ Rick's Prelude ~
'Ere the sun sinks
and thy love falls endless
may this moment pause in beauty
to ponder thy kisses
My scarlet rose of love
betake my spirit truly
as twilight falls gently
at last my heart sings
~June 29th, 2017
Eight Lines of Beauty~Lyrics
Sponsored by: Rick Parise
Don't stop the CHOP
dash the glorious bits of foam and froth
let the leeward side fill
let the fertile delta pray
for mercy from Poseidon
All hail the storm God...
Angry, black-and-blue, bruise
the coast, claim the futile calm...
meditate on the black hole of the abyss
Can’t STOP the chop…
Brash and brazen tentacle of DOOM
destruction stirs the devil’s cauldron
Watch the witches brew boil over the
capes of man
removing the zen garden
prissiness of the pandering fools
Batten DOWN the hatches boys
There BE a BLOW on ‘er…
ships flail like paper boats
RALE against the dieing, FIGHT
Ride the crest on boards LIVE the fright!
The languid days of summer passed so fleet - autumn's almost here.
Alas, I've fiddled around and left so many things undone, I fear.
Now, I must hustle about and cease buildin' castles in the sky,
Ere the honkin' geese and blowin' snows begin to fly!
There's corn to shuck and fodder to stack in golden shocks.
The hen house needs repairin' to forestall that wily fox!
There are taters to be dug and stored in the cellar bye and bye,
Ere the vagabond geese and the blowin' snows begin to fly!
Wood needs sawed and hauled from the oak tree grove,
And stacked in the woodshed for the parlor heatin' stove.
The punkins must be gathered ere too many weeks go by,
Ere those skeins of geese and blowin' snows begin to fly!
Another job that must be done, one I've kept on suspense,
Is the repairin' and paintin' of that doggone picket fence!
I really need to strew some straw to bed down the stall and sty,
Ere those Canadian geese and blowin' snows begin to fly!
Luckily, I'm spared installin' storm windows come this autumn,
Since I didn't take 'em down last spring - I jes' plain forgot 'em!
I need to pick the apples so my spouse can fix an apple pie,
Ere those majestic geese and blowin' snows begin to fly!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
She came she strived
She forged through
Making success a mockery
Your dance a mystery
Your laugh an history
It was a disturbing wonder
To leave and not be forgotten
Lying still but not silent
Breaking fetters
Crossing borders
Draining the years
Running like sand
Between her feet
She moulded an extra day
Moulding her words to life
Made rainbow across a darkened sky
Showered dew on the deadened lives
Arousing the buried night
Bringing all a troubled sleep
Bridging two worlds
Fulfilling the dream
Raking all the unripened fruits
Into a ripening basket
Inviting her world
To a ripened Feast
Poetry is talking in a box
With rules and locks
Over what you can say
And the way
With meter and rhyme,
Rhythm and time
To be sought
Or not.
Then why write.
I'll bite.
Oh, that was a question?
It was the best one.
by E. Marshall Evans
"How long is now?" - you
asked and I was aware that
there is no after
after this we have
already reached the end; the
end of our very
beginning. So, it
is on us now whether to
dare to step one step
further into the
livelong midst ere we happen
to lose the track of our time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
yes, the stars shine bright ere the clouds
bright spotlights in a vast darkness
sadly unseen, above dense shrouds
in the universe, it's vastness
on the night when clouds give in, thin.
o the milky way, its glory
many a tale, told on a whim
ere it is no jackanory
tales of many endings untold!
of planet earth? it could be one!
a story, as yet to be told,
ere we must stop all pollution!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Serventesio
Type: Structure, Metrical Requirement, Rhyme Scheme Requirement, Stanzaic
Description: An eight-syllable quatrain rhyming abab. A variant on the redondilla. Schematic: Rhyme: abab
Form:
ERE WE FORGET
******
to be at one with nature... why we should...
it's what sustains all life... for our own good...
we... the minority... have begged humans...
to abide by mother natures demands...
to think she has rules... no... there what we make...
to dig... and bury... no more can we fake...
it's right there... we look... our eyes blind to truth...
for to long the majority have... strewth...
all life now suffering our dreadful wrongs...
still not yet learned nature doesn't suffer pongs...
natures beauty... we've often been amazed...
on telly... let us not deny... we've praised...
procrastinating.... we'll start tomorrow...
the time is now... there's none left to borrow...
we're already in a mass extinction...
no... it is not at all science fiction...
two-hundred plus a day... gone forever...
were talking species... that is not clever...
the majority produce what we breathe...
it's a fact... nature we cannot deceive...
to articulate all our misgivings...
i've tried many methods of signaling...
in my locality i am vocal...
i write poetry... am i quotable...
apparently... no one seems to think... care...
that all life's future is looking... yes... bare...
not only nature do we treat badly...
not satisfied with that... we then... sadly...
we kill for amusement... our own... mindless...
of the tragedy... forgetting kindness...
Like a string of smoke
Slithering...
Up and away from a raging flame
As though a Phoenix is rising
From the ashes
My passionate heart
Which beats for thee, and only thee
Which is stubbornly tethered
To every conceivable ounce of thy being
Which holds thee with a vice-like grip
Could grow cold, unprying suddenly
No longer beating for thee
If thy own heart isn't given
Just as willingly
JAN 2019 WK2,ANY FORM,ANY THEME UPTO A MAX OF 20 LINES
Sponsored by Brian Strand (Winner: 1st Place)
Date written and posted: 01/07/2019
Alone I walked and unspoken I tried,
Unseen I searched and unknown was I hoped.
O Lord! My Lord! Something's there in this road.
Will not you answer what is this deep doubt?
The road's windy and rainy, do tell me,
Lest my dim heart would ever be gloomy.
Please O please, send me "A breeze" so to soothe.
If you have some flowers, I won't mind it,
Or for some songs, I believe a small bird.
No more rain but Stars to look at - instead.
Water's soft yet sometimes it wears a Stone.
The beauty's simple, simple makes me mourn.
I dare not look at the so breezy breeze.
Lord it's never late : help me out ere I freeze.
Early on, ere the grassy knoll gathers momentum
huddled shivering against the ground, stemless tops
of yellow dot the lawns of the old neighborhood, signaling
winter's demise without shouting Spring too loudly...
In a wink or a blink of an eye, these wild buttons
mushroom, spreading far and wide, usurping
the green mantle of my lawn, stems now shooting forth
twisting and turning at jagged angles, bizarrely...
at times, wild undergrowth barging into a (civilized) urban plot
when poof! their signature yellow smiles vanish, dispersed into
puff balls, architectural marvels, wind-scattered seeds, ubiquitous
but not before my inner child picks out a lovely bouquet
for my saintly mother
April 07, 2019
Entry in DANDELIONS contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
I lay still,feeling futile
Is this really how Love should be?
Somehow you appear as a phantom
As if i do not know you at all,
Is this a true space?
Where you are so grand
And i am so small.
'Ere I sleep
I contemplate for awhile,
Unsure whether to return to my own world
Or wait for the change.
This hold that you possess
I somehow am unable to bear
And yet i remain beside you,
Keeper of my destiny
But it is as if i am not there.
I close my eyes,fearing to dream
Lost and slowly fading
You always approach me.
Without wanting to let you in
I already know you hold the key
You must tell if this is how Love should be.
I see you as my personal fiction
And my darkest night,
I long to be a soul of Freedom
No longer desiring to be seated in the palm of your hand.
'Ere I sleep
I often do wonder what it is that i am to become,
Whether life here is worth living
Or would it be better to have me run.
The state of my sanity
Solely depends on you
And the image i see before me
Is no longer of profound quality
But a somehow vile and wounded memory.
Priceless precious what we speak,
We all do and far too quick,
O let your heart weigh words well
Ere tongue turns them out to spell.
________________________________
Boli ek anmol hai, jo koi bolai jani,
Hiye taraju tauli ke, tab mukha bahar ani.
Everyone knows to speak, but few know the value and weight of their words, nor their capacity to make mischief. Kabeer advises people to weigh every word with the weighing balance (taraju) of their heart (hiye) before it is uttered. A fool is he of a worldly-wise school that knows it not.