Best Labouring Poems


A Night To Remember

So sweet a kiss
The murmuring tunes of Spring
In the fragrant breath of night
Hums within my slumbering ears.
Like the whispering trees dancing
In the softest dews descending
From the vapours of the skies 
When the soothing night
Was young with the glimmering moon of May.

The poor labouring clouds expanded wide
In the muted distance ripe with coldness
While the storming of the Eastern wind
Drifted through the blossoming fields
Graced by the sultry springs in the lulling hours.
I pulled the weary drapes
When the night grew old with silence
From a crystal window 
Mirrored against the dumb fields
Black with the night.
A soft mist exudes the dead wind
Curled around the nodding branches.
Then I stealed away to the vacant spot
Where a crackling fire
Invaded the mournful breath of silence.

Lipsing sounds intrudes the night
Upon the quiet slopes and verdant span
Where the blossoms gently bow
Kissing soft the silver spray
Fluttering in the starry distance.
There sauntered I
Under the gladsome sky
To pluck a cherry from its stem
Outstretched beneath the sobbing moon
That in the dawning misty hours
That silver orb of light expires
When the sun had greet the day
With a golden sigh!
Categories: labouring, beauty, creation, metaphor, nature,
Form: Free verse

At the End of the World

At the end of the world great bears sleep under drifts,
Cardinal crowned Cranes sing and dance in joyous union.
Long winters blossomed by colourful spring and autumn.
Sweet summers vibrate with labouring European bees 
As rowdy Sika deer wander this hardy land of contrasts.
Dragons breath seeps from deep earth’s core to sculpt
And create a soulful oasis within turmoil and bedlam.
Here the Ainu live in concord with nature’s seasons.
Bowing to midwives of our world protecting life’s wonders
I salute your gifts you leave us though I will never see
Your wondrous habitat of Hokkaido’s land of extreme,
To witness the land where great bears sleep under drifts.
Categories: labouring, nature,
Form: Free verse

The Great Ordeal

the marked must go quietly in the night
without a word of farewell
through the trembled dust
down the dark road from which they say
no one returns

the gods who made Africa
strike fear upon the living
comfortless
vituperative
rampaging through our lands:
freedom is a hoax

we abandon ourselves
to the crudely dug dungeon
the pit is boiling like a volcano
dark blood seething ceaselessly
so many souls within its recesses
so many mournful eyes
so many broken hearts
we cannot cry, we cannot move

this pit is an endless pursuit of misery
there is no escape, there is nowhere to go
bit by bit our bodies are dying
and our strength disappears
we lose our sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch
hell lies about us in our innocence
we wonder who will be the last, the very last,
to seek this place for what it was:
they'd neither like nor believe
the horrors no God could have allowed

we are sure only that from
our true liberation movement
we have disappeared
we simply do not exist
no comrade-in-arms squeezes
a fake tear for us
noticing we are not there
when did he last see any of us?
he cries out we are disloyal,
have betrayed the cause
and all the while
we are labouring in the dungeons
we dig for him
we dig to be sure
he surely is next on the blacklist

the supporters deny our disappearance
and with the human rights watcher,
no record
nobody, it appears, misses us enough
to report
it is easier to die than to remember

and where do we come from?
where did the liberation struggle take us,
the combat,
the underground resistance?
prison? protest? mere conviction?
it was a time of revolution
there were no fantasies
there was simply the beyond-endurance
and then the fleeing-into-exile

we are the illicit cargo marooned
in dungeons guarded by scare-crows
Categories: labouring, africa, conflict, courage, dark,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Abiding In the Faithfulness of God

Abiding in God’s faithfulness*, I live for Him
Blessed to do His perfect will along His righteousness
Called to conform toward Christ-likeness…
Driven toward His triumph!

Ever-upheld by God’s faithfulness, I’m thankful
Freed from grip of vanities’ worthlessness
Graciously geared-up to worship Him sincerely…
Hoisted for faith-ascent!

Inspired with God’s faithfulness, I continue in His teachings
Jubilant in reaching-out to others midst constraints
Kindled for achievements, meaningfully fruitful…
Loving Him while labouring with commitment’s joy!    

Moved by God’s faithfulness’ might, I press on for service-fulfillment 
Nurtured to grow in His grace, led by His light  
Offering myself with obedience optimized…
Persevering to do my best ways for His name’s exaltation!

*Psalm 36:5 Thy mercy, O LORD, is in the heavens; and thy faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds. 

October 8, 2018
1st Place, "LATE OCTOBER 2018..." Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 10/25/2018.
Categories: labouring, appreciation, blessing, christian, faith,
Form: ABC

Premium Member Poetic Process of An Earthwoman

Poetic Process Of An Earthwoman

laying back sun warmed
pulling the seasons in 
through my pores
stretch cat like, 
surround the earth
taking it into me
feeling its kick.

thoughts drift, form, part
wanting to feed the world 
as it feeds me
sights, scents, sounds,
tastes, touches
my mind swells 
labouring pen on paper, 
I give birth.
Categories: labouring, poetess, writing,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Pewterspear Track in Yellow: A Sonnet of Sorts

The wind rose early with the busying dawn,
And, rushing into the long avenue of beech -
Laid down years ago to accommodate labouring feet,
Began to scatter over neatly cut verge and lawns
With its own inimitable unruly gust, blow and fuss...
Within a cascading maelstrom of vivid bright yellowness.

Against strong trunks, held firm by steadfast roots,
Groans from creaking boughs as they upwardly heaved
Upon frantically thrashing branches showering 
                               rusted, golden leaves;
Carpeting the rough stones below my trampling boots.
A mad kaleidoscope of leaping, swirling, skipping 
                                             colour
Where, as a child, I had once rediscovered...

Two green sandstone gate pillars sat well back
That ushered me under this arched, canopied track.
Categories: labouring, appreciation, autumn, childhood, color,
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Peerless

We would sleep oft as light as a flagging breeze, eyes dry and smarting; with minds ill at ease..'

Our lives then the currency to pay your dues, who would return from our sorties? we had not a clue.'

We fought off the nausea, as well as the foe, we'd tied wires to ailerons if it meant we could go..'

Our aim was sure, our desire's to win.' Our hearts burned for freedom; midst the dogfighting & spin,

We honoured this country, child maid and man, from the bankers, to the bakers; lords or labouring men.

Our thoughts oft assailed, by the task on our hands; our limbs felt fatigue, yet we held to the plan..'

We came back from our 'bailouts', to a pittance of pay; then returned to the sky by the night & the day.

Our flights held this country, kept its hope; earned its trust, we hold no regrets for blood spilled in the dust

We know that our sacrifice, will be not effaced; keep the faith we've delivered, here in our covenant place.'

©Joe Maverick 7/2/2015
Categories: labouring, memory, war,
Form: Rhyme

The Canal

The working navvy did dig deep 
He followed Brindly’s new laid plan
A transport system to complete
A salvation for the labouring man 

As the furrow cut with sweat and maul
With breaking backs and torn sinew
Each man in turn to heave and haul 
Sustenance for starving kin renew

 Tracts of land transform through spade and pick 
 Veins enriching the countryside
Bringing new life, each shovel, each brick 
Levelling earth, raising national pride 

A true revelation this arterial plan
Almost lost through modernisation
Abandoned, grown dense, dispirit man    
As steam and diesel grew within the nation 

Each lock assiduously built 
Before first steam engine’s whistle blew  
Weeds strangle, progressive man’s new guilt 
The canals ebb, debris as seeds strew

More beauteous now than ever been
Our arterial chart of the waterway  
Each torn muscle, victuals did glean
Bed and nourishment for one more day

The navvy’s ghosts look down, heads held high
Their gnarled hands rest in heavenly peace
 Majestic waterways dug in sweat with sigh
A once industrial, now beautiful masterpiece.

© 16/11/2013 GG  Inspired by Harry J Horsmans' 
free verse 'The Cut' which is a colloquial name for a canal
Categories: labouring, beauty,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member An Afro-American-Jamaican Haiku Tribute To Mothers

(APROPOS OF THE MANY OF US: THE GREEN VILLAGE)


    PROLOGUE:

    Some don’t quite get it…
    Life will reveal it to you:
    Mothers are of God.

                              A

                 Keeping hope alive…
                 Strong stalwart sable sisters:
                 These are our mothers.

                              B 

	                  Ebony beauty…
                 Sustaining us in all things:
                   God bless our Mothers.

                                  C

          	     Beautiful sable souls…
         	     Audaciously bold in faith:
                     Praise God for Mamas.


                                 D

                  Ploughing up our hope…
                  Tears nourishing our courage:
                  Moms cultivate men.


                              E

                  God’s labouring wombs…
                  Moulding navels of His love:
                  Mothers…God’s angels…


   EPILOGUE:

   Happy Mothers’ Day…
   Queens of our eternity:
   Navel giving souls…
Categories: labouring, 12th grade, black african
Form: Haiku

The Golden Stool

The Golden Stool

 Offer me the sacrosanct golden stool
 To rest my bottom,
 Cursed! And of course abominable it is
 The Asantihene possesses it,
 I will rather then be banish from being;
 And become a bottomless bottoms
 A riddle riddled with contour,
 It is uncomfortable anyway,
 I will rather seat on an armchair
 Listening to the howling wind from Elmina;
 Telling stormy tales of the beginning,
 Of million sunk soul ancestors departed;
 In ocean-farer Columbus minute sail,
 Neither I examine buttocks of Homo- erectus
 With magnifying glasses,
 Nor listen to naked maidens cuddling calabash;
 Filled with soft breadfruits
 Strolling on marble tarmac roads,
 But to virgins with unripe chest mangoes;
 Dancing and queuing at my hut stepping,
 Listen to mothers mingling backed urchins
 Hoping in hope load of sacks;
 In uncountable mileage
 To dispose and bring back joy of cowries;
 Labouring farmer hue mounds in hectares,
 Rose in a grunt
 Nostalgically, looked hazily back and future;
 I must do a little bit more, more and more,
 Mounds, until I reach tip end of the earth;
 The hunegred yawns must be fill.
Categories: labouring, history
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Missionaries Are Heroes of Faith

“Serving the Lord with all humility of mind, and with many tears, and temptations…”  Acts 20:19 of the King James Version

Fulfilling God’s perfect will from the heart
Yielded to advance the kingdom of Christ
They are missionaries who did their part
Serving the Lord while graciously sufficed…
Called to minister, Gospel they did share
Propelled by compassion, loving kindness
Divine wisdom, peaceful zeal, mercy-deed
Preaching, teaching Scriptures of prudent care 
Nourishing souls midst guided gentleness
For redemption seal with ardent faith creed.

Soldiers of Christ championed truth and right 
Endured, persevered along patience-race 
Discipling converts through biblical light
Toward holiness’ walk of virtue-brace…
Gratefully labouring with divine zest 
Though human nature battled against guilt
Confessing, repenting, pressing on still
Serenely vanquishing transgression pest
Drawing nigh to God’s altar, pardon-built
Sublime course, blissfully they did fulfill. 

In their pastoral work where they did toil
The Saviour’s exaltation, their aim
Anointed by the Holy Spirit’s oil
For triumphant goal, hailing Master’s name…
Encountering struggle, suffering, pain
Attacked by temptation, trial, hardship
Gripped with heartache causing grief and sorrow 
Those God-called trod on selflessness’ terrain
Ordained to practice faithful stewardship
Exuding radiance of service-glow.

May 17, 2022
2nd place, "Form O- Ode- New Poems" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 6/1/2022.
Categories: labouring, appreciation, christian, faith, god,
Form: Ode

No Africa, No France

A swarm of mosquitoes there was
Of  different ethnic origin, language and culture.
Aedes, anopheles, culex and others
Some fragile,  some agile and some avaricious,
The anopheles was the most fragile but avaricious.

This human, they set eyes on,
She was in possession of everything they needed
And in want of nothing.
So because of her possessions, they attacked her
And she being weak, could do nothing to defend herself.

And so with their proboscis, they sucked her blood,
For many a year, she was continuously being sucked.
As she was being sucked, so was she being bitten,
Some bites were gentle, others, excruciating.
But with God on her side, she stood on her feet.

The wind of change gently blew some mosquitoes away
Others clung tight, for they were desperate
But the human started agitating for her freedom
So the remaining mosquitoes reluctantly left.
But alas!!!! She has been sucked semi dry
She started labouring to regain herself back
Just as the lazy anopheles mosquitoe came back

As the other mosquitoes went  and continued their lives,
The anopheles discovered it couldn’t survive alone
So it came back through lies and deceit to suck more blood
And from that same human, it continued sucking blood,
It will come as if to make peace 
Between the body parts; but that’s a pretext.
It truly came for blood and more blood

The anopheles mosquitoe knows it can’t live without the blood
But it can never accept that fact
Because  of its dirty pride.
It is the laziest of all the mosquitoes
Because it depends solely on the human

If the human doesn’t open her eyes 
And with zeal, fight back,
The anopheles will suck her with no mercy.

NO HUMAN, NO ANOPHELES MOSQUITOE
NO AFRICA, NO FRANCE
Categories: labouring, africa, satire,
Form: Blank verse

My Neighbourhood

The road to my backyard is long and straight
Evergreen trees abound and provide welcome shade
Home to myriad birds, butterflies and the bees
Last summer their branches were sawn off, without notice
The orgy with power-saws lasted barely a day
The trees shorn of foliage, the limbless torsos remained
To secure the safety of a VIP on a state visit
To a smog-laden metropolis, labouring hard to breathe

A few years back, we moved house to an oasis of green
But now, the storm of development is relentlessly closing in
Razing and levelling with electric saws and bull dozers
And a host of equipment used by modern day builders
Pile drivers mounted on rigs clump through the day
Unrelenting even at night, when the elusive foxes bay
Grieving in the darkness with plaintive howls
For a vanishing habitat where his endangered kin prowls

They have acquired fish farms and farmland
And even encroached on the protected wetlands
Which naturally dispose tons of city waste
In danger of destruction due to greed and haste
Truckloads of rubble are dumped every day
The pace is frenetic, even in sweltering May
Toiling hard for masters, who’ve deadlines to meet
And citizens to house, from whom votes they’ll seek

A haze of dust now covers construction sites
The pace doesn’t slacken here, even at nights
Construction materials arrive here daily by the truckloads
And given shape by workmen, as planned on drawing boards
What was once green cover and blue sky
Will be concrete monoliths, stretching up very high
With parking lots and asphalt streets
And billboards and neon signs, ready to be leased


No longer will fields of mustard flowers sway sinuously in spring
Nor ripe ears of golden corn bob gently in the wind
The sounds of frogs and crickets are a memory of the past
Songbirds have fled, deprived of their natural habitat
Slowly the memory of winter’s migratory birds will fade
Never again, the razed canopy of green, provide cooling shade
As I walk through my ravaged neighbourhood, I wonder why
Impotent rage pervades through me and I silently cry
Categories: labouring, loss, nature, memory, memory,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member New Year Hopes and Dreams

For His blessings for the past, I praise God with all my heart
Trusting Him that this year, His goodness for me will never depart...
Thus, I believe that He will grant each of my desire
And everything that for His honour I earnestly aspire:
To stay constantly in the center of His perfect will
While in His compassion-care I'll keep still;
To fulfill His assigned task for me He has uniquely designed
As in His satisfaction I serenely bask to which I willingly resigned.

Gratefully, I'll worship the Lord this New Year, by His grace
Loving Him with my spirit, soul and strength all the days...
Hence, I yield to Him, upon faith's fervency, my supplication-filled hopes
Knowing that He knows what's best beyond my mind's scopes:
The complete recovery of my Dad's well-being thru His divine miracle healing
Also the full restoration of those who are spiritually ailing, falling and failing;
The remarkable progress and developmental milestones of my special child
As well as those undergoing therapy, rehabilitatively-styled.

By the guidance of the Master, I press on toward victory
Magnifying His name for His exaltation and glory...
Therefore, to His approval do I submit my dreams
Verily aware that His omniscience can overtake my vision-beams:
Foremost is the realization of an ever-ready service-providing foundation
Benefiting mankind thru its effective welfare-geared function;
Another, though not actually impossible, is the wondrous visit to the Holy Land 
Where my Saviour humanly resided according to what Sovereign had planned.

Upheld by the wise Creator, I'll serve Him now and onward midst challenges
Since I'm called to live for Him with His power-charges...
So then I cast to Him my worries and doubts for the future
In my faithful stewardship devotion He alone can nurture: 
Fruitfulness of ministry-involvement despite hardships
Earnestness of my prayer-consecration thru heavenly partnerships;
Persistence in every discipleship-engagement
Diligence in labouring* for His kingdom's advancement.

*Acts 20:35 I have shewed you all things, how that so labouring ye ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.

Dramatic Monologue in Couplets
December 27, 2018
Categories: labouring, blessing, christian, faith, god,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Premium Member Doing God's Will

Doing the will of God* is His desire for believers
Obeying Him as the Master while overcoming selfishness
Increasing faith, having been imparted with divine nature
Nurtured with Scriptures' truth
Gearing toward faithful stewardship.

Taught to tread along righteous paths midst trials
Helped against temptations and downfalls
Exhorted with the Lord's goodness, the redeemed can do His will.

Workers in Christ's ministry, diligently persevering
Inheritors of eternal life, thankful to the Father
Loved by the Saviour and loving whom He loves
Lights shining with good works, they are surely blessed.

Offered to be enriched in labouring for the Creator's kingdom
Freed from slothfulness' slavery, they are partners in heavenly business.

God's will is revealed by His wisdom
Open for accomplishment with His strength
Determined to be done gladly by His children who please Him.

*Ephesians 6:6 Not with eyeservice, as menpleasers; but as the servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart.

May 26, 2019
Categories: labouring, christian, dedication, devotion, faith,
Form: Acrostic
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