Wheels of life overtake busy hours
racing along fast highway of time,
and jammed thoughts forget sunset’s delight
while roses, once in love, stoop... tires fizzle,
even when the hills fondle the peaks
of embossed leaves, there are no hours
for leisure on the streams, not yet.
Still, when evanescent light
envelopes all things tender and dusk floats
along a wing of clouds, He waits there...
The shepherd becoming one of his sheep
guiding freely, moving quietly
content as breath of air,
telling me to listen softly where
a fragile voice awakens a hum
within my bosom... a Source unseen
yet felt deeply, as if to comfort
this restless spirit that the journey lies
in not asking why, but trusting
how, in silence, He waits with me.
Richard Lamoreux's Tell Me
3/31/2015
Parody of Joyce Kilmers ‘Trees’
for Victoria Beckham
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovelier than me
A muse whose hungry mouth is best
Pouting pretty as my breasts
A verse that looks so good all day
And lifts my hands that all might pray
A model that may in summer wear
Parts of animals on my hair
Upon my bosom a sportsman lies
intimate not very wise
poems are made for fools you see
but only God could have made me