Nurse Nicole, with calmest eyes,
Moves through halls where silence lies—
Right hand steady, strong, and sure,
To Dr. Gabriel, she is pure.
Level-headed in the fray,
Guiding hearts from night to day,
With hands that heal and words that mend,
A fierce protector, faithful friend.
In every room, her kindness glows,
Like rivers where the soft wind blows,
Or streams that twist through shaded land—
She reaches out with healing hands.
She speaks in tones both firm and low,
Where pain and panic often grow,
And patients, lost in weary hours,
Feel her strength like sudden flowers.
Among green leaves and tangled trees,
She finds her peace in ocean breeze,
But never shuns the blood or bone,
The mess of life—she stands alone.
Empathy flows like summer rain,
Through aching hearts, through fear and strain,
And though the world may spin and call,
She’s busy, still, among us all.
A light in white, with soul so wide,
She walks where mortal hearts collide,
A woman made of will and grace—
The world feels safer in her place.
Either she had skipped a class,
Now in lecture halls with Glass
Or had merited The New
For The Quite Brilliant Few:
To no longer mow down grass
Mean labor prefects bypass;
What All Former mates treasure
And strictly take for pleasure
Like Ice-cream-recharged leisure!
It is an Immunity
Not in University
And that’s The Adversity,
For others she shall pity.
I hide in a niche within myself
Furtively blinding the self from truth
The ravenous tongue knows
It is the other side of
The hidden tank sealed with dried tears
The rivers of sorrow bypass my heart
And I smile at my isolated victory
Proud that I didn't crack down
When another bereavement knocked
On my door and left me weirdly silent
The lone fugitive peeps through the slits
Hungering for the love of the departed
Perhaps another day the warm sun
Will ride into my heart to stay till eternity
March 14, 2016
Contest: Fugitive
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Our holy mother is a savior
so swears the hill in Medjugorje
therefore
I'm asking you politely to
find your own nervous breakdown
(leave me and mine alone)
morning cleansing
regularly starts
with coffee and cigarette
regularly
while mirrors narrow humans
one man
expired dated
is staring at empty aquarium
one man
one woman
eventually
we all end up at tailor's in narrowing
there where angels are mourning over fall
now
seems like gold
mother's words
best selling story
about prince on the white horse
for end
regularly gets a donkey
and that is
regularly
Clinging to sunny Bognors regal
skirts
At his Majesties most royal verges
The readied hand thrusts upon the
lever,
And, shuddering, She forward lurches.
Clanking ominously over diesel fueled
growls,
Expediency, they said, was driven
to ignore:
The raised up objections and anguished
frowns,
And track them under tracked-over
ground.
For by unanimous vote they did smugly
decide,
Albeit tales of backhanders hotly denied,
That poor clymping Parish could no longer
abide
The daily through fare of the popular ride.
So when you next travel upon the new
Bypass
Think of the local residents you no longer
harass;
Dwell on the advantages you formerly
decried,
Whilst ripping through the greenbelt
to the jolly seaside.
Think of their tearooms, and the little
stone bridge,
Think of the old fort just beyond the sharp
ridge;
Think of their gift shops decked out with
festoons,
With bright little trinkets, plates and silver
spoons.
For over and beyond the ancient on-looking
hills
Creeps an old warming wind that carefully
steals:
To gently gather up the wretched mechanical
sounds -
And bear them away above the pale, distant
Downs!
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