A magic ring landed right next to me
on it an inscription I squinted to see
Inside a tiny heart I read my name
when away it flew, just like it came
So I sat me down, to try to think
overhead, the moon seemed to wink
And written up there, clear as a bell
two mysterious words ~ Farewell, Isabel
My last foray into this arena
Had me living memories, not wished to share
Here I go again, another visit
Into the elderly homes, we wish not
A sunny day, another gathering
Carers working, making things happen
Those in wheelchairs, still smiling
Others in mobile beds, unsure of the happening
A talk by an ancient, born 1917
Strong voice, begging to be heard
Wartime memories, clear as a bell
The telling of a visit into hell
Strong voice, sharing memories
Some good, others not so
I look around the room
Half the listeners, into their snooze
On and on, goes the story
Death and glory, hand in hand
How can you tell such a sad command?
Bravery, such as only you can understand
Bodies of men, only families know
Story goes for one hour
Comment from teller, end is near!
Carers sob quietly, hidden words
Room is quiet as never before
I leave this place, memories flooding
If there is a being, ruling the happenings
Make me safe, send me happiness
Old Clarry was deaf; yes deaf as a post,
and couldn't hear a word that was said.
But he'd sit alone while we conversed,
when we gathered in young Harry's shed.
I suppose old age gets us all in the end,
but Clarry's still here and he's ninety two.
He doesn't need glasses and his heart is okay;
it's just this deafness that has come through.
Then one day at our get-together,
Clarry with a grin had something to tell,
he said the doctors had found him a cure,
and now he can hear us as clear as a bell.
I said to Clarry "That's just amazing;
they've reversed your ears on the wane.
Your family must be over the moon,
to know you can hear them again".
Old Clarry grinned "I ain't told the family,
I don't think their hearts could stand the strain.
I just sit in me chair and hear what they say.
I've changed me will twice and intend to again”.
Be, aware for there is a greater power.
an evil power rising up from hell.
You will see it right before your eyes.
And hear it clear as a bell.
when desolation and famine
Swing their scythe across the lands.
With its mighty hands striking down the crops.
and burning down the chosen fields'
Be aware there are no more appeals.
Our phones have been cut off
Our string broke
The last call for lonely hearts
Was the last call received
With new string and tin cans
Wax for a clearer sound
Only three feet away
Her voice as clear as a bell
Now we text one another
I miss her voice from yesterday
Holding hands giggling
Only three feet away
Her voice so sweet
This last call from two
Happy Hearts
Only three feet away
On Two Old String Phones
Contest: The last call for lonely hearts
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
Date Created: 11/06/2019
She didn’t play poker so well.
Her bluff was as clear as a bell.
Her insides would quaver
So much that they gave her
A hell of a smell of a tell.
The definition of Kismet is “destiny or fate”
This power is alive and well
Examples are constantly paraded before us
To my mind, it's clear as a bell
A much greater power influences our decisions
As we blindly follow our hearts
We must be willing to adhere to its guidance
And be responsible for our part
Kismet is instrumental in the choices we make
Without consciously being aware
It helps us through many difficult situations
Moving forward with a confident air
By trusting your inner voice, you won't go wrong
You'll usually make the right choice
Never pay attention to the many other temptations
Listen only to your trusting inner voice
The definition of Kismet is “destiny or fate”
This power is alive and well
Anna is a charming Mom,
I met her at my gym.
A madam of sorts, quiet and calm,
Level headed, articulate, fit & trim.
Between sets we talk, of life’s little sagas,
Comparing civic cares and concerns.
Verbal jousts before noon, while avoiding drama,
Like racecar drivers, who bump in a turn.
We kayak, and camp, with kids and the spouse,
And refer to such things as time off.
On her radar and mine, busy lives we espouse,
Repaper the kitchen, life gulped from a trough.
Our friendship’s base tenet, is clear as a bell,
BFF’s with great wow, lots of passion, and flair.
Talk of family—a Top Spot on which we oft dwell,
No stats, just sheer love, great hopes and much prayer.
May 10th,, 2018
Every poet worth their sault
Every teacher and professor declare you will prove to be as dense as a London fog
Using clichés
But I think clichés make it clear as the nose on your face
That there are things as beautiful as the day is long
And as far as the eye can see
As many to enjoy as there are chins in a Chinese phone book
So my advice to young writers,
From time to time abandon the ship USS Proper Expression
Be above board
Do an about face
Make clear as a bell
That a rose by any other name does still smell as sweet
That absence still makes the heart grow founder
Airing dirty laundry is a no no
And if you must have an ace up your writer's sleeve
Let it be a cliché!
Oh No not Trump
He was an act appearing to be plastic
And always shiftless being so sarcastic
Also accusing as well as then abusing
Not much at all about him is amusing.
Who do you think candidate sounds like?
With a loud voice never needing a mike
Accept him as President and not prepared
Thought of this caused me to be scared.
One of the good old boys always being
Is odd ball like this really worth seeing?
Pile of it on us he is sure to dump
It is none other than Donald Trump.
Definitely will have to call him hard sell
Sound of his name is clear as a bell
Sound like loud swan who is a trumpeter
Has relatives who fought at Fort Sumter.
He and Ben Carson are a cross between
something waiting to happen and something
that should never have happened in the
first place.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
The definition of Kismet is “destiny or fate”
This power is alive and well
Examples are constantly paraded before us
To me it's as clear as a bell
A much greater power influences our decisions
As we blindly follow our hearts
We must be willing to adhere to it's guidance
And be responsible for our part
Kismet is instrumental in the choices we make
Without conciously being aware
It helps us through many difficult situations
Moving forward with a confident air
By trusting your inner voice, you won't go wrong
You'll usually make the right choice
Never pay attention to the many other temptations
Listen only to your trusting inner voice
The definition of Kismet is “destiny or fate”
This power is alive and well
© Jack Ellison 2015
At six foot four, and an eighth of a ton,
A gentle giant of a man, he was;
Father to three, and himself a fine son,
Devoted husband to Jean, without pause.
Phone man, painter, in ocean liners he cruised,
Accompanied by family and friends;
Sweet song in his heart, but never the blues,
Wisdom and patience, in life his clear lens.
He loved a recipe, and showing concern,
With actions, like always asking about you;
His life well balanced, his legacy earned,
Sharing his Jesus—the Gospel's Good News!
Taking time for grandkids, he humbly shared,
Both time and his money, an open book;
Bouncing upon knees, for great grands he cared,
Teaching scriptures, over breakfast he’d cooked.
Eighty-two years was his Lord’s master plan,
Fifty-eight to a soulmate, solemnly wed;
What mattered most, to this giver of men,
Was baking and breaking, life’s finest bread.
A Soldier whose honor, served us all well,
Humbly he loved, these United States;
His strong Christian faith, now clear as a bell,
His given name, you ask? Twas—Walter Yates!
(Rest in Peace Dear Friend. We miss you, sir!)
listen to me as i fall
i cannot hear a thing at all
though the rhythms and melodies are as clear as a bell
through prayer, belief, and faith, God indeed does me well
take a look at me as i fall
i cannot see a thing at all
though colors and beauty are envisioned oh so well
through prayer, belief, and faith, God indeed does me well
get a whiff of me as i fall
i cannot smell a thing at all
though fresh and effervescent scents lure me out of my self-made shell
through prayer, belief, and faith, God indeed does me well
You tore a hole in my heart my dear old Dad
when you left and went away
The dreaded disease you bravely battled
refused to let you stay
The calls home now are not the same
your voice I cannot hear
However sometimes, I sense that you’re there
and standing very near
I picture your haircut, that timeless flattop
colored in wisdom’s grey
Your beautiful smile and those calloused old hands
gently pointing the way
I see your blue eyes so filled with love
and wonder when they turn my way
What do you see way down the road
and what are they trying to say?
Your words I hear as clear as a bell
though inaudible in my ear
I think of the things you would have said
when helping my path to steer
Dad, you’re gone yet you’re always right here
I carry you in my heart
Somewhere down the road we’ll join up again
when we never have to part
GHOSTLY DAD
new year’s eve
a ghostly frost coats his chair
front porch so still
car horns downtown
turn back the clock
new year’s eve
no moon no starry night
no dad to share
in a sudden breeze
a leaf floats down from somewhere
early new year’s eve
the last trolley car dings by
that long yellow row
if he’s aboard
he doesn’t get off
new year’s eve
late cold coming in
clear as a bell
he points
the big dipper
on new year’s eve
dad and brother made ice cream
mom put on her new coat
i got one too
the vanilla stain still there
Dave Austin
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