AN ALLITERATIVE ABC
always abridge ascribe and amplify an adsorbable affliction andiron again
buttress by backsliding but brandish bent bigotry
credibly crumpled choppy cocopa can campanulate caring catoptric centrocercus crabbedness
you barf baster again
washbowl always amplify serious
burden but buttress can
gloriously grandstand crumpled expunging
never negotiate prolonged affliction
center choppy crabbedness extract
stillness for greenback stockholding
that ascribe brandish backsliding
gastrogavage plumping faintness and
your wedding will be
unalterable fluttering caring desirableness
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 24–30, 2026)
Grounds for sound. optimism, I revere,
cast your silken innate spell my dear,
boundless acts of kindness so sincere,
watch for gentle soul who may appear,
with courage, charm that neighbour near,
raise your voice eschew or shun that jeer,
heartfelt gesture never has a false veneer,
spinner of dawn bird chirp word a career,
they stress pure goodness without fear,
one prompt with praise, loathe to sneer,
from january first to close of calender year,
on another slant or somewhat bright frontier,
haunting scenic fare layer on layer, tier on tier,
divine vision when observing life on a pier,
omens shine everywhere just gaze and peer,
the poet, writer, playwright in their sphere,
duty bound as spry warm tidings pamphleteer,
blissful world not difficult at all to engineer,
me, torch bearer, spirited, jovial, zestful top gear,
my monorhymes might buttress a well-disposed ear.
It's shade not of night,
It's a rest from the flight
A poem more holy than any from page
A play with more grace than what makes the stage
More reverence there than buttress can bring
From the ground to the arch, apart from the wing
More grandeur than even more lofty a spire
More solid in nature than we can conspire
Giving shade through the day and rest through the night
For all who have need to retire from flight
It's a loss, there's no doubt
Whether storm, ice, or drought
Cellular, cellulose, wearing a crown
Grown all the way up… to only come down
When it's time to leave the sky to the wind
The leaves and the branches no longer to bend
Thence came the life that gave life to the lyre
That would raise up a canopy meant to inspire
More than a point, or a joint, or an arch
The oak and the elm, the maple and larch
Are reduced, as all things which sprang from the dust
To the fruit we produce to provide what we must
When it's time to be borne on the shoulder it's best
To have taken a stand between restless and rest
What we leave's what we're made of, leaf, branch, or tome
Make the most of your time, for we all join the loam
Our thoughts are but the stone the quarry yields,
Which, rough and cold, do wait the hand of art;
Like ancient rock from untamed, barren fields,
They hold no form, nor yet a conscious heart.
The mind, a mason, takes these common bits,
And with a plan no mortal eye hath seen,
By hammer-stroke and measured toil, permits
A structure rising, glorious and keen.
Each arching line, a metered verse aligns,
A buttress strong where logic’s weight is laid,
And through the glass, where coloured light now shines,
The soul’s intent in artistry, displayed.
So in this verse, a fleeting, built design,
The artificial and the human join.
One of life’s sunshine days
A pleasant walk down to the river
Scene of all basking in high summer sun
Sheep graze roaming enamoured of the warm grass
The river flowing passing on its ancient meandering way
A self carved path by an enticement no choice drawn to the sea
And over the river and water meadows comfy white cottages seen
The bright garden colours given now a soft focus by haze and distance
Onto the river bridge the weight an impetus of water a few feet down below
Grey stone ancient buttress shaped by old artifice granting water a gentle pass
Auric and glistening the strong suns noonday blazing light beams down
Lit the riverbed of soft golden sands transmuted a bronze by depth
Flanking green reeds softly sway the gentle current persuades
Shadows shapes seen moving contrary and counter way
Lovely minnow’s dark tops sides a silver hidden
Viewed unseen but in this summer light
Serendipity favour a glance a view
Perhaps a little peep
Of heaven
June 1 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Job 7-9
Key Verse – Job 7:17 What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?
PRAISE BE TO GOD WHO SETS HIS HEART UPON US
Praise be to God for setting His heart upon us with His:
Absolute pardon for our sins
Abundant provisions with His supply
Assured preservation midst His salvation
Affirmative promises toward our satisfaction
Assertive power for our supplications along His sustenance
Job 8:5 Praise be to the Lord for inviting us to seek Him while we:
Bow to Him with our praises, blest
Boast about His providence, always best
Bask in His perfection by His performance-brand
Bend before His presence, praying based on the Bible
Brace our backbone’s buttress upon His building-up Book
Job 9:13 Praise be to the Saviour for
withdrawing His anger against us:
Calming us from our fears
Charging our faith’s fortitude
Comforting us by His forgiveness
Compassionately calling us to face His fixing
Challenging us to find ourselves in His faithfulness. Amen!
June 1, 2024
May 8 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on 1Chronicles 24-26
Key Verse – 1Chronicles 24:19 These were the orderings of them in their service to come into the house of the LORD, according to their manner, under Aaron their father, as the LORD God of Israel had commanded him.
PRAISE BE TO GOD WHO USHERS US
TO COME INTO HIS HOUSE
Praise be to God for ushering us to come into His house with:
Pure heart
Powered hope
Peaceful holiness
Performing hands
Prepared helpfulness
1Chronicles 25:5 Praise be to the Lord for directing us
with His wisdom through His seers as teachers who are:
Saved and sanctified
Scripture-saturated
Steadfast by His standard
Statute-strengthened
Serving along sealed stewardship
1Chronicles 26:30 Praise be to the Saviour
for allowing us to engage in His heavenly business:
Blessing us bountifully
Bestowing us His blissfulness
Building us upon Bible buttress
Bringing to us His benefits and bonuses
Bracing us up to blossom beyond barriers. Amen!
May 8, 2024
New red-leaf candles glow in a green room
jungle cathedral; buttress-rooted forest-columns climb
to a sun-starred sky in jig-saw pieces;
wings stretch feathers over gravity;
voices whisper, ‘Beware. Lions prowl.’
Smooth granite-faced walls build shadow-spaces,
city-blocks; black-suited women, men, stride out,
ground-starers, pacing
beside the sign: ‘Do not feed lions’.
Look up into the blue blanket sky feeling granular and fearful and sometimes fear isn't always to be afraid but to be immersed letting the unknown in and yourself out filling your essence with elicitation. This feeling this dream. Oh my, how the clouds disobey gravity and become discharged from the invisible chains that bind almost all things. Oh for the apples soon fall down to the bottom of the invisible reach now is taken as rational yet I hither in a place I can't even call a home. Oh Aether won't you buttress me with feathered wings I chose to leave this place for I was free.
Freedom is the green grass where the antelope roam
It’s the darndest yarn of cotton
It’s the bottom feed for human basics
Freedom is the buttress of the Moths wing
It’s the smile you give me
when you're in clover
Freedom is the languid river
And it’s the caterpillar’s prayer
And the hero’s scythe thrashing the tall weeds
I see a glade
for freedoms chance of burgess
Oscans, Ligures and the Apuli as known
Ancient Greek, Samnitics, Sicanis and Celt
Indigenous tribes, one people with love grown
Capodanno Fiorentino o'er lands dwelt
Wine appellation of Sangiovese as shown
Wreaths and lanterns over folklores shine not welt
Carrara marbles as buttress of stronghold
With arts and culture, graced with norms of the bold
Shore lights buttress the sky's
vaulted dark and shed
a solemn hush along
the river's reach.
Set upon a calm,
fishing boats drift
the night towing lines
of vicious hooks.
Below them, the sediments
of lifetimes lay in secreted
scores cast in a language
lost to the ear. In the quiet
of evenings you can almost
hear the river breathe.
Something rises to speak,
falling silent as if an affliction
has made what
dwells there, mute.
In the distance, small fish
splash the surface pursued
by predators lunging up
from deep below. Then everything
chokes to a quiet.
The river flows on
and on, sealing in mud
the sad chorus
of unspoken sounds.
May be, something better is coming
As the roadblocks are growing
Although, it's demanding a lot
And I feel like i am totally lost
But may be its the cost
So that, later on I won't be mocked
Yes, it sucks
When it's not working
When it's continuously hurting
When most of it seems worthless
Rendering me clueless
May be I am a bit slow
And just going with the flow
But, what elates is that
I am no more the same brat
If only, acceptance leads to friendliness
If only, smiling signify happiness
Then why still this emptiness?
May be because these all are just buttress
Sometimes, it seems like being all alone
Amidst this land of clones
Its like fighting a war with myself
To identify my true self
But, may be, something better is comming as the roadblocks are growing
Some pondered ways
to pep-up the pulpit and pew,
but disinterest and ennui won the day.
The clergy went away to get help
and never came back.
Eventually, thunder and sleet
cracked stone, spire, and gable;
neglect, and the cold winds of time
nibbled at arch and buttress.
Where once was a stained-glass light,
weeds and mildew weathered to a moldy rot.
Where once the hems of cassocks swept
now mice and spiders rest or nest,
and baby bats roost in the rectory.
There In a dusty belfry
owls hoot and solemnly perch.
Walls crumbling to niche and cranny.
Amid all this spacy ruin
jackdaws lay their speckled eggs,
while in the misty moonlight
homeless angels fan dance
upon feather-light, slinky legs.
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