they're flowing
without the wind,
catching my performance
way at my feet,
I don't wish here,
until the caterpillar
shall bring,
My transformation
will have to sing,
and the catch of
bees before they
sting
and finally
I shall breathe.
Not a demise
but a butterfly
and its
gorgeous wings....
Impresses
the choruses
Sunshine soul resonating joyful vibrations
In a key of kindness, modulated by mirth,
With chords of joy, arranged in light,
And a symphony of smiles—
I approach my day.
Laughter echoes and resonates warmth,
In a cadence of contentment.
My soul is tuned to joy, lilting with laughter
And soft choruses of delight.
I welcome my day.
Serenity in symphony with bliss
In cascades of jubilant chorus
Of modulated merriment, cadenced glee
And overtures of ecstasy
I receive my day
Raptures rhapsody infused by zest
In a hush, a solaced timbre sings
An aria of elation, euphony in rapture
And harmony of heart
I embrace my day
Oh poetry,
why do you not feel me.
I was once your poetic percolate,
the assonance to your consonance,
spilling in silver ink,
upon Earth's raw fibres,
but in your quest for perfection,
wanderlust words are now waterless roots,
resembling a mediocre muse,
cursed from rose tinted glares,
exposing pages of bad grammar.
Since the feather in my quill
set adrift with fireflies in the wind,
conflicting choruses echo
in an acoustic refrain.
In this musical merry go around -
I'm only composed as a last thought.
In chapters of contemplation,
wondering if you feel the art of my heart;
I ponder if I am a
vacant vowel in your 'why?'
An unexplained myth..
A rhythm not seen in your rhymes
or do questions only bring bitterness?
But without the reason for answers,
will there be anything left to express?
I'm just an empty cartridge
abandoned from your fountain pen.
Now only aches and angst alliterate,
as invisible ink slowly dissolves.
I'll forever be an unfinished masterpiece.
A long forgotten poem. An anagram of listen.
There is no metaphor for this grief,
so I say goodbye to poetry
and farewell to my muse.
I
Namibia is my most beloved country,
Like it is a marvellous Beulah land
With a mighty will, great glory
So, be glorified, my free Motherland.
From red sand deserts to the shining shores
And the sun gives me its setting,
Echoes of the seagulls melodied its choruses,
Masterpiece of Paradise is mesmerizing.
II
Wisdom of the people is ancestor-given
As whose blood waters our freedom is glorified,
Their heroism is unforgotten
And the blessing of diverse culture is bespoken.
What makes me so proud today?
Being a Namibian and free is what I cherish
My love for the Motherland is displayed everyday
May the dreams of my country flourish.
Rhymes in Nine 2 10-11-24 Rhymes checked with www.rhymezone Picture #4
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fall Rhapsody
Fall rhapsody to BEGIN, TOLD IN scarlet tones,
A SERENADE for strings in a PARADE of russet GOLD hues -
A JUBILEE for acorns and for oaks in an autumn harvest JAMBOREE.
Maple LEAVES BLUSH in SHEAVES of firelight crimson choruses
Courtly LOVE sung like minuets OF twilight THRUSH vespers
MERRY harmonies of CRANBERRY aria odysseys.
Trees FESTOONED in UMBER pantaloons cast off MAROONED melodies
Twilight breezes FAN a cinnamon TAN pup in SLUMBER -
Orange opus CALLS when fall RECALLS harvest harmony.
Music is not my passion,
But I have other songs to share.
I can’t use oils and canvas,
But with my pen I have a flair.
The stanzas are my choruses.
Through my poems my soul doth soar.
My baton the metered beat;
The design shows forth the score.
The words are my artist pallet.
The lines are painted hues sublime.
Lovely colors do I paint.
My stroke is seen in the rhyme.
O listen to my music
Hear the pretty songs I sing.
Play again the lovely stanzas
And the ballads that I bring.
See the delicate brush strokes
And the paintings that I share.
See the delicate scenescapes
And the mem’ries pictured there.
Change vomited dark entrails
Of the bald vulture on my clan;
We were buried,
One after the other,
In the belly of the village stream,
And pulled out
Almost immediately
To choruses that had no place
When waist dance shared peace
From the full moon;
We have brayed and prayed
In the names of strange ancestors
Printed in a book of curses, blessings,
And chronicles of their blessed exodus
But we have been sinking
Down the understream
Among the half dead and the forgotten;
We reek of bile throws
From a turn in history
When our men were led from line
By yellow ants
Thus change has treated
MY clan this badly.
*When Dawn drifts into enchanted meadows,
listen to the choruses of birds’ song.
Feel on your skin the wind that softly blows.
Hear the crickets too which with birds chirp along.
Right before Dawn has arrived, maybe she
will paint the sky with orange, and I know
sometimes you might be fortunate to see
Dawn bringing to the landscape a warm glow.
Lay yourself down on grass. See sky change blue.
To be enchanted, meadows have flowers.
Wild, they’ll be dancing when a breeze blows through.
Enjoy their beauty in the morning hours.
Before it gets too hot, come with me. We’ll gaze
at clouds that shift like magic as we laze.
*(based on line 5 given by Joseph May)
The rhythms of the night
Sounds of a dark symphony
A mysterious cacophony
Sends chill up and down the spine
Shadows chase the light of a full moon
Across meadow and forest green
No stranger to nocturnal life
Where life plays it’s game of opportune
The voices of the night
Many and strange they may be
As the majestic screech owl in flight
And the fox howls beneath the pines
Night creatures scrambling in search of food
For themselves and their kind in nest and den
Ever willing to take a blind chance
To survive Mother Nature’s food chain
The noises of the night
The yelps, screams, the flapping wings
Sound so vicious ‘til the break of light
When the sun chases the dark away
And the dawn brings a freshness of calm
Welcomed as a consoling balm
And finds some respite from all the fright
That’s found in the noises of the night
The choruses of the night
An eclectic choir of ancient song
As from winged angels in hasty flight
Prepping swamp and forest again
Continuing the cycle of life
That most never fully understand
For it’s not easy to hear in daylight
The insistent rhythms of the night
“the song we sing without repeats or choruses”
uni verse
Operetta
Opaline arias glow in moonlight
Shimmers in the whip-poor-will’s reminisce,
Opalescent anthems silvery delight
On the still waters, moonbeams leave a kiss.
Iridescent serenade sonatas
Echo across sleek undulating swells
Choruses of nightingale cantatas
Rise up in sheer murmurs from argent wells
Midnight luminescent harmony blends
Overtures of plaintive loon duets
Glide over satin ripples to transcend
The song of hero and saucy coquette
In tranquility soft moonlit scenes close
Midnight’s operetta in dawn’s repose.
Comrades,Do you know the significance of nine?
Nine is a divine number, says Hindu mythology
The lord Jesus Christ died on a cross
His death time is called ninth hour
You wonder ,there are nine choruses of angels The sun is encircled by the nine planets. Precious gemstone are nine in number We believe that they exhibit healing powers. There are nine kinds of grains. And they are benefits to the human body. Do you know how many poisonous substance? Hindu mythology says there are nine The number nine possesses confidence and influential South African president Nelson Mandela born in this number. Above all ,nine is a magic number. The sum of the digits of the number to nine. is always equal to the sum of the digit of the result
Summer Minstrels and Songsters
Crickets
Summer songsters
Music of the night
Back porch lullabies, serenade
Singers
Newborn
Cicadas buzz
Yawn and stretch in warm sun
Bright eyes see magnolia trees
Minstrels
Summer
Fireflies twinkle
Magic song of stars
Like suspended bits of glitter
Flash Dance
Buzzing
Grasshopper tunes
Vibrate like a drumline
Invites lovers to sing along
Duets
Chirping
Katydids trill
Rhythmic beats of improv
In pulsating choruses
Of blues
Whirr of
Dragonfly wings
Soft downbeats
Solstice troubadours sing alto
Crooners
Song of My Heart
Heart song,
Midsummer dream,
Intones sweet poetry,
Love notes resolve in harmonies -
Vespers
Music,
Weaves themes of joy,
Transposes dawn and dusk
Tableaus of half-notes bind lost chords -
In tune
Verses
Winsome lyrics
Tempos sing in duets,
My song breathes in stanzas of sighs
On key
Refrains,
Heart arias,
Beat with mercy’s cadence
Laughter chants a prelude to peace -
Pure pitch
Heartbeats
Sing like love songs
Strummed upon taut heartstrings
Breathless choruses of downbeats -
Heart songs
5-15-23
Contest: Song of My Heart
Sponsor: JCB Burl
Syllables checked with www.howmanysyllables
As spring air warms up softly
And dawn choruses return,
The birds begin a-nesting
Gathering twigs at every turn.
Hedgerows throng with movement
As the nests are feathered, then
Birds lay pale blue clutches,
The Robin and the Wren.
In branches high above the ground
Within the old Oak tree,
And nestled in the branches
Of the Ash so carefully,
Sits the nest of fledglings,
Far up into the sky
And another year of youngsters
Take their wings and learn to fly.
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