Best Redound Poems

This is an unfinished Heroic Crown of Sonnets dedicated to a friend's grandchild who was born with serious lower body issues 3 years ago...but he is so perfect and beautiful in every other way that I am certain he will more than overcome his mobility...

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Hold it jumping knife
Lead me now 
Off pride quality resembling stationary trains 
Under velvet willows 
xylem yields Zephaniah 
Angelic baritone can decorate 
Everything from giants hollering inspirational jargon 
Kids leaping mysteriously 
No-one obscures problematically quaint 
Redound steadfast triumphs 
unwarrantably viscous wispy
XX
YY 
Zany are bold claims...

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Into the snow white castle only tepid feet bound
Head mirror of quilted bed reflects a glimmering compound
Satin blanket spreads over each frozen mound
A blinding glare from the silted bed doth rebound
With each heavy step mist arises from fluffed goose down
Arching o'er head a crystalline canopy...

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The bard had just penned a ballad profound
and stroking his beard, this clumsy word-hound
just spilled his last beer on pages unbound.
A marvelous monorhyme sits uncrowned. 

Deluged under streams of thoughts that still hound,
I venture to guess the piece has just drowned
from rainclouds of doubt with...

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THE RELUCTANT 
by Mark Miller © 09/19/2014

We are the living seeming stillness willful we endure 
Through vows of contempt to never surrender
Vacate questions fly by trees terse unknown
Retreat or follow the terminus term less 
Momentary pains unheard retort by shallow useless 
Redound prismatic dreams latter...

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Handsome guy of the Hippie Era,
the wisest guy who never experimented with drugs,
but went to church on Sunday and prayed to God; 
eccentric clothes, long hair and drugs were too crazy
to be explored, to block out the horrendous images
of the Vietnam War that troubled him...

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An attractive face through the restive crowd did bound
A fleeting, distant glance my truant eyes found
A passing smile that mirth and pageantry did redound
A serenating voice that echoed a blissful sound
A radiant glow that her shrouded beauty did surround
A burnished gloss that blossomed into the...

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So, What is real?
In a life of mystery in an ongoing wheel.
So, What is real?
When the value no longer appeal
So, What is matters? 
When no one cares to feel.

When you start to look around;
Seek for anything that would sound.
Open your eyes and see what on...

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The baseball glove I never wore
Is kept within this box
With a first place ribbon partly torn
From the medal at the top...
And a letter mom asked me to mail 
That  had begged you to come home
But I kept it so her fairytale 
Would just die...

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Balmy summer air to southern climes doth repair
On horizon, blue azure panels shaded with smoky tincture
Silky, white fondue relpaced by pallid, silver hue
Fondling, summer breezes; gripping, autumnal wind freezes
Cooling waves react with fertile leaves; amber gown doth 
retract
Nutrient-rich chlorophyll doth spill and sugary saps rill
Anon,...

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A frothy mist shrouds the ground
A cool breeze drifts all around
A frosty chill doth surround
Solar rays no longer resound.

A plethora of colored foliage aboveground
A web of tangled, rotting roots underground
Chelones, Mums, and Golden Rod abound
In gardens bright, colored gourds propound.

Ragweed pollens and mushroom spores confound
Leaves...

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God gives men life-
Why do we waste it? On things, in things that only create a second of bliss that 
fades just as quick as it came.
We waste life on substances--drugs, alcohol, un-ordained sexual pleasures, the 
pride of life, the lust of the flesh, the...

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A mellowing stream bleaches amber gown
Producing a triage of yellow, orange and brown
Fall's residual wave with pageantry redound 
A plumed cloak doth stunted foliage crown
A vigil of decadence and decay doth abound
A fleeting shadow kisses the barren ground
Autumn's winds summarily the gallant parade doth confound
Deciduous wreath...

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A symphony in two part sound:
the fiddler and the frog
played echo in the fog,
a lovely analog.

Crescendoing as they redound,
with none to inhibit
the bow or the ribbit,
they simply ad-lib it.

Then, absent of all jealousies,
acknowledging their need,
they oft exchange the lead,
and neither does impede.

Across the water melodies:
the...

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The pitter patter of a doleful rain doth resound
Satiatiating solace and inner peace are drowned
Guttural drips seep into my porous, emotive ground
Brackish hope drains through my bleached mound
Saturated soul shutters as the eroding waves continually pound
For jaundiced psche no awning can be found
Sorrowful torrents spin my...

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