Best Upon Poems
Updated lyrics May 19,2020 to flow better.
THAT’S WHEN I FALL DOWN UPON MY KNEES
There’s no way-
I’ll see another sunrise
My hope is gone-
as I'm contemplating my life
Prospects are bleak-
that’s just the way I’m feeling
My strength is gone-
and my will to live is fading
Here in the dark-
Even my shadow has left me
I spiral down-
into a pit of misery
That’s when I-
remember that you still love me
I kneel to pray-
and throw all my cares upon you
Chorus
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
And then I beg you Lord...
Don’t turn your face away from me
I know I’ve made a mess out of my life
Could you help me please?
When I feel like it’s the end
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
I cannot lie-
I know I’m running out of time
And I know-
that your patience is wearing thin
I must change-
if I’m ever going to save my life
Oh please dear Lord-
help me fight all my sins and win!
Chorus
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
And then I beg you Lord...
Don’t turn your face away from me
I know I’ve made a mess out of my life
Could you help me please?
When I feel like it’s the end
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
Chorus repeat
Finale
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
repeat and fade
Re-posted with music and vocals July02,2020
John Derek Hamilton June 14,2018
Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2018
Once Upon a Purple Sunrise
Pretty as a Periwinkle,
in your frilly summer frock,
the one with purple polka dots
that matched the cool of early dawn.
Haloed in hazy lavender hue,
I'll always remember you;
running barefoot through
the cornfields still wet
with translucent drops
of fragrant morning dew.
The scent of damp, fresh grass
lingering on your waist-length,
ebony braids, that wrestled free
of their crimson satin ribbons,
floating away in the pale blaze
of a new day, riding on a gentle breeze.
Your childish giggles drifted
through rows of raspberries bushes,
a look of total wonder reflected
in your bright smiling hazel eyes,
innocent as the wispy grey clouds,
that awake with the surprise
of a transient glowing sunrise.
Where did you come from,
Little Sprite, with your
mischievous deep dimples,
cherry-stained cheeks and lips?
Even gazelles would be jealous
of your long, lithe brown legs,
graceful as a swan's,
gliding in casual slow motion.
Carefree as a hummingbird,
hovering in suspended animation,
you were lost in the beauty
of your own song.
Did you forget me,
waiting for you with
finger sandwiches and sweet tea?
But that was okay –
it was your time to wander
in an ocean of wild yellow daisies
that needed to sprout
in your youthful heart…
take root and grow
in your memory forever.
02-17-2018
Best New Poem - 2/20/18
Poem of the Week 2/25/18
Sponsor: Silent One
Contest: Sunrise and Sunset
Placement: 1st
May be sung to the tune of It Came Upon the Midnight Clear
It came upon a prophecy
in ancient days foretold
that to the earth would come a child
fulfilling words of old.
For all the earth to be redeemed
this gift of God's great love:
a Savior, which is Christ the Lord
came down from heaven above.
As Joseph came from David's line
to Bethlehem went he,
and with him Mary, great with child,
in heeding Caesar's decree.
And so the Lord was born that night
in lowly cattle stall:
in him was life, and his bright star
would be the light of all.
The prophet Micah's words fulfilled
of which the faithful sing:
"O, Bethlehem, though small are you
from you shall come a king."
The angels joined to sing Noel
announcing God's own Son;
with shepherds, Magi bowing to
the long awaited one.
In ancient days this prophecy
Isaiah did foretell,
The virgin shall conceive a son,
His name: Immanuel.
"To us a child is born this day,
to us a son is giv'n" -
He reigns on David's throne on earth,
and God's right hand in heav'n.
When the last rain drop has fallen
and final word has been spoken.
When mercy is no longer our saviour,
remember, each time your heart beats,
with every sigh on the tip of your tongue,
my only wish was to forever love you,
stronger than the light that shone at sunrise,
warmer than the rays from that golden orb,
more powerful than the radiance of the moon
and with greater devotion than the stars.
Silent One
Simple Musing
17 February 2018
“If you fall in love with the imagination, you understand that it is a free spirit. It will go anywhere, and it can do anything.” Alice Walker
I write upon my Fancy. Often she takes flight
to the heavens blue or to starry skies,
mountains, forests, rivers or seas,
or to a desert and
leaves me there till again she flies away
to find a flower or majestic tree!
I write upon my Fancy; she makes me feel free!
Sometimes she flies to places that are grey,
but she prefers gold, sunlit sand
where she floats on warm breeze.
She might even soar high to a wondrous sunrise,
for flights of my Fancy are often bright!
I write upon my Fancy whether day or night.
I love when she flutters like butterflies -
flitting over meadows with ease.
She guides my writing hand.
Though sometimes serious, she mostly likes to play,
and with Fancy, I always hope to be.
Feb. 1, 2021
for the 'My Invented Form - I Write Upon' Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Pushed there for a thousand years
and will be for a thousand more,
pushed there by the gentle winds
the silver waves upon the shore.
Ancient trees who watched here daily
are now dark silhouettes 'round the rim,
as dusk settles in over the still lake
and a dragonfly takes a final skim.
As the sun dips below the surface
silver waters gain a hint of gold,
their riches flow around my feet
giving me memories to be told.
The sands of time sift down below
where life goes drifting by,
and laid there for a thousand years
and beneath them, so shall I.
And become like a silhouette
to watch all life drift by,
and reliving in every moment
never stopping to ask why.
Pushed there by flowing currents
and the wind's most gentle roar,
I fade away like the golden sun
glint silver waves upon the shore.
The apostate looked out his window, and started to believe
As genuflecting pylons sent ramifications through the trees
Chaos questioned reason, hoping for an early plea
but the world was too far gone, so began the killing spree
The Crier rang his leper bell: “Our town’s a godless apparition”
Filling hearts with envy of a once-dreaded condition
Now the King prayed for calm, in a pagan act of contrition
After his son died at birth, he had proscribed all religion
Atheists came from all around, excommunication filled the air
Roots faced horizontal, trying to feed off despair
Anxious to leave town, fallen gargoyles block civic square
Steeplejacks grow disoriented, looking up at their disrepair
“That hole’s not deep enough,”winked the jester to the knave
He could never resist a shortcut, even digging his own grave
As the madness continued, hermits set fire each other’s caves
Shedding light on the void, by burning alive its willing slaves
With the apocalypse gathering pace, populations slowly died
Some genius came forward a real madman in disguise
Said, “We need a scapegoat—a martyr, an ultimate sacrifice”
He was crucified for being too clever; they much preferred no advice
And whilst writing this story, that apparently makes no sense
The queen was in her chambers, hanging herself from suspense
Children butcher themselves gaily, having learned how to fence
As for putting fear of God in us, the wicked come crawling to repent
At last when heaven reopened,
an eclipse tried darken that day
Never to see man overcast again,
sun went nova, boiling all life away…
Upon autumn's stage where vermillion vistas and cobalt-blue sky meet
Picturesque hues enchant, oscillating in breeze, as scarlet landscapes greet.
Falling leaves trickle down on golden yellow fabric in shades of amber fire
As barren trees fight gusty winds to hold on to remnants of brown attire.
Chilled air empowers imperial red tinges to adorn vestiges of fading green
Transforming lakes and ponds into heavens of romantic crimson scene.
Harvests of freshly cut grains cheerfully celebrate season's festive meals,
Sipping cinnamon tea and sampling pumpkin pies, welcome autumn feels.
Revelers rejoice glimpses of winter under moonlit-glow of freezing nights
As naked forests sway in tandem, yearning for the rebirth of vibrant sights.
October 4, 2018
Placed 3rd: Seasonal verse poetry contest by Brian Strand
Placed 4th in Vermillion autumn couplets contest by Vermillion Scythe
Upon the meadow where you were born,
I make a vow to stay by your side,
And though my heart in anguish is torn,
Tear-filled eyes remember our last ride.
You breathe hard as you lay in the grass.
Your heart beats like the thunder of earth.
In its own time, life will let you pass
To look for the mare who gave you birth.
Reins are hung on a hook in the byrne.
Your stall is empty. It leaves me forlorn.
I, the pupil, from your strength did learn
The joy of life the day you were born.
Your body once hot, now becomes cold.
The sun fades as the clouds become thicker.
Good-bye, my friend. Our rides made us bold.
Just nicker once more, softly nicker
....softly nicker...
That tiny pause to skirt the truth, half-reals you'd paraphrase,
The subtle softly spinning gyre of cunning in your gaze,
Vague reflections from your skin - a shedding, sheltering plaque,
All concerned syllables sent swiftly bouncing off your back.
Ever adrift on fiction's lost sea, never blown to shore,
Too late I saw your hidden thirst - too easy to ignore
Evasion and avoidance - thus was piloted your ship,
You'd dance around, not run aground - you gave us both the slip.
I failed your buried, rooted pain, I missed the reddened tracks,
All facts would step aside your rime of displaced parallax,
I slighted each secluded wound, the false-trod thoroughfare,
So ends a life of wary silence, cloaked mutely in despair.
No one knew you as I did, my reward there sadly sure,
I'd like to think away now, yet the hard truths are too pure,
Blinded, perhaps, by my own fear, I let out line for years,
And all my stock of forward time now fills with bloody tears.
Upon my closing sight of you, muzzled words within your eyes,
Your final hour released you not - you'd walked too long on lies.
DEDICATED TO BYRON- Double Sonnets--First dedication poem of series
honoring great poets.
(Sonnet 1)
Upon Dawn's Beautiful Rise, I Was Born
(Sonnet Number One)
Do not my life's passing cause you to mourn.
My years flew by as sweet as summer's breeze.
For at dawn's beautiful rise, I was born
underneath the tall and ancient oak trees.
Mother Nature gave me breath, my heartbeat,
soft like distant thunder in a quiet gale.
Being blessed with mighty strength and fleet of feet
I traveled fast past rivers, hill and dale,
scattering each with magnificent seeds
helped to and fro by water, hoe, and wind.
They sprouted even in thickest thorny weeds
and all the more in verse, I vow to send.
Do not my life's passing cause you to mourn.
For at dawn's beautiful rise, I was born.
Robert J. Lindley, 1-12-2019
(Sonnet 2)
She An Angel, Ravenous In My Sight
(Sonnet Number Two))
Behold as shining frost on roses bright
its glint, a gasping pleasure to mine eyes
she an angel, ravenous in my sight
tho' her countenance some deny.
Dear blessing, that her power never dies
its renewals, this earth needs all the more
from its width, its canopy of blue skies
one may seek fortune from its, shore to shore.
Sweet those deep treasures her heart gives away
her immense depths we too oft fail to see
We in blindness let apathy hold sway
as we pride ourselves, far greater than she.
Behold as shining frost on roses bright.
She an angel, ravenous in my sight.
Robert J. Lindley, 1-12-2019
Sonnet (Number two)
Note--
https://englishhistory.net/byron/
Lord Byron (1788-1824) – Key Facts, Life & Work Information
A collection of resources dedicated to the second generation romantic poet, Lord Byron. See more details in notes shown above.
When life gives a choice don't ask why
Don't dwell in dark under a star-lit sky
If music starts playing go find your voice
Don't ask why when life gives a choice
Every life will smile bearing a gift of joy
Echoing sounds of a harmonious ploy
Spreading cheer, donning perky style
Bearing a gift of joy every life will smile
In times of despair, know there's hope
Happiness resides in everyone's scope
Blessings embody within every prayer
Know there's hope in times of despair
Upon every roof some rain must fall
Life once in a while answers your call
When love finds us, that is one proof
Some rain must fall upon every roof
May 14, 2018
Poem of the day on May 16, 2018
HM: Strand select 3 contest by Brian Strand
NOTE:
This poem is a Swap Quatrain. This form was created by Lorraine M. Kanter.
Within the Swap Quatrain each stanza in the poem must be a quatrain (four lines) where the first line is reversed in the fourth line. In addition, line 2 must rhyme with line 1, and line 3 must rhyme with line 4 and so on, BUT not repeat the same rhyming pattern on subsequent stanzas. Rhyming pattern: AABB, CCDD, and so on.
An old man wrote upon the sand,
Sea foam sweeping to the shore,
It's lowest ebb, the tidal bore ...
Coins of sunlight, gold and grand.
His pen, a cane that was a gift,
Long ago when times were good ...
His lovely wife had found the wood
Washed ashore, among the drift.
She carved it in her loving way,
With intricate designs and words,
A heart, initials, and some birds ...
A gift to him one Christmas day.
She was gone now, twenty years,
Then ravaged by a winter's flu ...
Now he was left with naught to do,
But try to mitigate his tears.
So each day to the sea he went,
And etched an ode upon the beach,
His tortured soul revealed in each,
Meant to quell his heart's lament.
But twice a day the tide came in ...
And washed his sonnets off the shore,
To him, a sign she wished for more,
Poems of all that might have been.
The love he'd one day see ... again.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Writing Challenge 2, August 2019 - Enclosed Rhyme" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.
Visions of a way forward
raising the curtains dream magic
stepping into the spotlight view
captivating under a harvest moon
Rocked in the cradle of thoughts
your the flower sweetly awakening
deeply flames warmly embrace sunshine beams
growing beautiful rose petals tenderly touch deeply
When I trace your heart's echo
kissing this soul softly within dewdrops
weeping starlight tears of a breathless sigh
where the sunbeams dance with brilliance
Golden inside your rays honey
deliciously lights up priceless perfect
holding the breath for a moment love
our time shining purely unique sharing
I write upon the fluttering pages of your mind,
My words of hope to make your spirit soar:
Reveal your inner light and charm,
When dark gloom and grief sow
Seeds of despair, never let them your soul pursue
And grow; pluck them out and away you throw.
I write upon rustling leaves of your thoughts that flow
From the tree of your heart, my words anew
To ease your unease and repose:
When dreadful storms do harm
Your mind's cool ocean, let pearls of peace cast ashore,
And help you smile at warm sunrise behind.
I write upon those empty spaces that I find
In your fragile heart, my words to implore
You to be ever poised and calm:
When endless waves of woes
Try to inundate you, never let them drown you.
Bask in the brightness of your own glint glow.