alone in an abandoned park
i listen to a family of hummingbirds
seals and crofts calmly telling them not to fly away
tears breaking the barrier of my intended lie
one corn dog i enjoy
one cold lunch bucket i devour
a small loaf of french bread i chew slowly and carefully
when the night creeps in, i will strategically park in my spot
i will sleep with all eyes open
the dead leaves will be my alarm
i drink my bottled water and then forget it is in my left hand
the stray himalayan is my only friend
i share said bottled water with her
Categories:
crofts, depression, memory,
Form: Free verse
up a steep and narrow road
reach the tops
wilderness reclaims a verge
of wintery snags
land juts and tilts
hauls out
lays treeless
clumps and hags
pitch up stricken soil
heap above the miry troughs
loud the heartbeat
nearer to feral thought
then any mouth or ear
swale and quag dawdle
appear to seep listless
no
every bog tunnels shrouded
to fetch up the feckless
harsh and gorsy
heather treading low
the moors mark nothing
only a head of gnashing wind
a whipping dinosaurs tail
blear and chill
bites and grapples
a stone-tusked marl
crofts under
tangles of un-spun fleece
in barb and thistle
sheep piss in running rivulets
thread through
mizzle-pecked rocks
inscribed
by whatever tortures the air
ravens picket grit edges
wings beating back the below
primal caws that lift and speak
for the standing stones
their harrowing
lime-cuffed history
before light founders deeper
black anvils appear
in the lowering
a scant anchoring
a bare farrowing
shorn and scoured aloft
by miles of orbiting
beauty
twenty years later
son sends pictures
of moors long traipsed
the sky in my phone howls
Categories:
crofts, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Write taste of a bitter gift
of unrighteousness
it tastes like blyss like a rotten Phish
Microscopic telepathic pragmatic gushing
18 Crofts of bleach clothes wash
Pyramid boat fishing¹
Aqua glistening
1/21/20
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020
Categories:
crofts, allusion, analogy, assonance,
Form: Light Verse
Parents so proud four sons they raised
From the Highlands of Scotland in the pre-war days
On their crofts they worked morning till night
Unknown to them then of a future fight
The Germans have invaded a country so free
Poland was taken, the world shaken visually
Britain declares war as our men enlist
To rid the enemy as the fighting shifts
Europe's engulfed in a feverish war
Many are dying to comprehend what for
Four brothers sign up to fight
Soon a mother will pray every night
Campaigns they fight in, these theatres of war
Witnessing horrors never seen before
In their garden at home on the family crofts
Lies a bed of roses with petals so soft
Then one day with a passing glance
A pink rose dripping red in deathly stance
Their mother turns to the gate she looks
Telegram in hand from the postman she took
With trembling hands she opens with care
Upon reading the message in tear laden stare
Their eldest son in Africa was lost
As many many others deaths global cost
Every day as she passes the rose
It's pink petals bloom her tomorrow's fear grows.
.
Categories:
crofts, africa, angst, bereavement, death,
Form: Rhyme
Crofts of humble
mute to grumble
What prods a heart to seek succor?
Fall to tumble
mind a’jumble
spayed fingers join to clasp in prayer.
Flipped to sober
fearless warrior
What tools to fight off plights of fear?
High to lower
wise the warrior
Gains strength and force in quiet’s calm.
Thank you Karen O'Leary...I'll send you
a picture of 'Flip', when I can get back into
Illustrator.:) You're a gentle and kind lady,
and very inspirational!!
Categories:
crofts, introspection,
Form: Verse
Warrior of battle
A leader of men
Triumphant in victory
In his Highland glens
His followers unite
In battle ready clans
Willing to die
As they fight for their lands
Burns run red
As thatched crofts burn
To lead ones clan
Is birthed and earned
Lowlanders, fellow Highlanders
In claymore cull
From John O' Groats
To the Isle of Mull
Many campaigns
In week long march
To leave your enemies
Their communities torched
Warrior of Highlanders
Bloodied hands steeped in
His head bowed
To the fallen and beaten
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-2.php
Categories:
crofts, death, devotion, history, life,
Form: Rhyme