Best Wouldst Poems
Oh, That Earth Wouldst So Truly Honor Thee
Dedicated To-
"The Great Unknown, Unsung Poets of the
- Past, Present And Future"
Oh, that earth wouldst so truly honor thee
You write poetic verse with such deep glee
As in glory-fruits reaped from your ink tree
Birth gentle winds blowing through land and sea.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
Inked pools born from candor and purest heart
Offerings of whispers that truth imparts
Defeating the dark which sets us apart
To gift more, fill up love's bountiful cart.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
Within thy soul and even thy sadness
Counter with blessed hope this world's madness
Shine with rhyming words, bringing on gladness
Yet ignore world's inglorious fadness.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
And through thy darkest sorrows gift anew
Heroic words that deepest dark breaks through
Gifts empathy, care many are thus due
For truth, darkness oft turns sky weeping blue.
Splash thee more, dear hope from your native tongue.
And gift world beautiful verse to be sung.
Oh, that earth wouldst so truly honor thee
You write poetic verse with such deep glee
As in glory-fruits reaped from your ink tree
Birth gentle winds blowing through land and sea.
Robert J. Lindley, 9-22-2020
Rhyme,
( A Look At A Sad Reality, Those Worthy But Not Rewarded )
Oh, that thou wouldst come to Me,
In lowliness, on bent knee,
What rapture then would fill My Heart,
What grace to you I would impart!
Would that you see the eyes of a burning dragon?
For he to be the first you kissed,
Would that you see the tears of a fallen maiden?
For she to be the first you missed,
Reflect, for it is then your flagon of mead, that betrayed grin.
Shadows of a man, would that you be then
As a sip of pain to a swig of gin;
You cast all aside for a lot of unanswered questions
What wouldst that thou be sir? I request confessions!
Would that your startled eyes see double?
For then that you beg be allowed penance,
No penitent man! Would that you see more pain;
For I cast it out, and you cast a sentence.
Still, in the shadows, you see troubles gain.
I command this you whisper to your beloved one;
'I set you free, in truth, in light you shine alone '
What would that you be for her, ergo a dove’s patience?
Patiently gallivanting round her love, not with it since.
Sir I ask at last and final, what wouldst thou be?
Knave, Brute, Scoundrel, aye… all apt for thee!
Wouldst I Become, Last Gasp Of Dying Star
Wouldst I become, last gasp of dying star
brighter glow in Heaven's majestic sky
existing as hope's promise from afar
gifting inspiration before I die.
Wouldst I become, pure as sweet love affirms
a soft flame, warmth to soothe a hurting soul
true warrior to defeat world's evil terms
an illumination to sacred scroll.
Wouldst I become, saving grace to my love
waiting shelter in times of sad despair
golden rays of tenderness from above
alleviating woes too hard to bear.
Wouldst I become light to life's dark defeat.
Lover, your destiny sets you to meet.
R.J. Lindley, 4-25- 1979
Sonnet, ( From Starlit Sky, A Magnificent Dream Was Born )
O' That Our Sad And Vain Glories Wouldst Suffice
O' that our sad and vain glories wouldst suffice
to soothe our nightmare moods, their poisoned queries
angry shadows that prowl long and empty corridors
seeking joy at any precious costs
Alas! Sweet promise that sets its hidden traps
eager for the follies of man-made schemes
steeped within weakness and failed hopes, darkness of flesh and bones
and fated to stagger in blindness of lust and deep decay!
O' that heart and soul could once truly join
to walk upright in radiance of truth and light
dance under moon's warmth giving rays
sing to its cheerful gifting arc
and praise its glory that shines for us all.
O' that darkness lost its deceiving powers
turning to ash from fires long since smothered
in the rise of mortal reach and wisdom beyond,
beyond mere existence and vanity compounded by Fate's hand
thus scale to soaring heights once given to Olympic Gods
devoid of tempestuous failing's, they all too sadly embraced.
Robert J. Lindley, 5-18-2019
Prose, ( The Harshest Reality- That Mankind Refuses To Learn )