You once shaded lovers and sparrows.
your branches combed the morning mist-
a cathedral of green where children sang,
and the sun broke bread with your leaves,
O patient giant,with roots like prayer,
you watched seasons kneel before you.
The rain leaned close to whisper secrets,
the moon hung her lamp from your crown.
But two fools came with saws and laughter-
their hands empty of reverence or song.
They did not hear the sap cry out,
nor the small bird scream from its broken home.
O murderers of shade and silence,
what did you gain from such noise?
The world grew smaller when you fell,
and even the wind forgot its music.
Hairs like Amazon to cut down
Barbers all in shutdown
No one knows in my town
When to end this lock down?
Effervescentess as the flowers are crying
As the wind blows through the valleys
The grass is moving dancing in the breeze so are the flowers
Clouds bump each other producing rain the rain showers Over gust abandoned nest of the droplets of tears
From the angels eyes from their face they're crying
Woe is me, woe for mankind man you see
Has falling like a cut down tree
Timber
While I did dream about a deep freeze,
Someone came and cut down my trees;
Full of much moss,
Did become a cross;
An atrocious act and new priest agrees.
Remember inlet that they call Rudy;
Big and long and had been a beauty,
To my surprise;
So many flies;
When on dogs did do all of their duty.
Had been horrible and could hardly bare it;
Had new priest in pulpit who was a parrot;
Started sneezing;
Perfectly pleasing;
He can gave sermons while eating a carrot.
Can you imagine a parrot eating a carrot.
Was trying to improve his eyesight so he
can have better look at church members.
Jim Horn
He flaunted his physical riches
That made him too big for his britches
Until a tight zipper
So mangled his dipper
It needed a full forty stitches.
---
Written 28 Dec 2018 for the Bawdy Limerick contest sponsored by Tania Kitchin
Donald J. Trump
Cut down to size
~ He gets the prize for lies
And the cake he takes
~ He's a genuine fake!
Cut Down By Deeds Of History's Warlords
Saddened with their agony and deep pain,
the black of nights slowly passed on away:
Purple hearts can never ever explain,
war's dark, needless battle deaths anyway!
Dear sweet memories soothe a wounded mind
thus bringing much needed relief to bear.
Twilight's brings on another sad hurt kind,
stripping shattered souls so completely bare.
Darkness and misery grinds the brave stone,
where hope hides in such strange shadowy fjords.
Lives wasted, brave people forever gone,
cut down by deeds of history's warlords!
Heaven will judge right those souls forced to die!
Hell will burn warlords, we need not ask why?
Robert J. Lindley, 2-21-2015
Sonnet: Perfect tens
100 words..
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 100
Man, the funeral rhetoric intones
Is like a flower of the field
Rising up to be cut down;
Until he is no more than dust and bones,
And in the earth remains concealed
Beneath the prison ground.
Yet still, the drag of ages rumbles on
As the world in truth rotates
Spinning round in time and space;
And I will wait until all time is gone,
Eternal dreaming ruminates
And dreams will dwell upon your face.
Cut down to a cheap thrill
Wasn’t worth much in the end
Left dark and dull
As all of my luster slipped away
I walked that line
Straight to that end
And I passed you
Smiling only to appease you
But burning on the inside
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