The world may hold other pretty faces
With fiery red hair crowning genius poll
They can come from different countries and races
But they will all pale in the light of your soul
Their splendor is shadowed when in your light
Their essence becomes tarnished and rusted
Because your elegance always shines bright
And It’s for your love that I’ve always lusted
Your grandeur comes from deep within your heart
While their beauty barely scratches your surface
Your love and mine cannot be torn apart
I often wonder what I did to deserve it
You took a broken child riddled with fear
Your Love enveloped me and made me whole
So even now, in these frail fading years
I still Love you more than you'll ever know
Is she Debra or Deborah?
Debra suits her best
Although she has an aura
Her name could be Deborah.
Debra sounds sweeter,
I'd like to meet her,
Debra or Deborah,
You can't ignore her
She is a poet,
That's how we met.
She will go far in writing poetry,
I bet.
She has a knack,
By putting things right,
Pages and pages
Of words that delight.
I enjoy reading her poetry,
I try most days
Her foresight and understanding,
It blows me away.
If I could see into the future,
After taking a long look
I am confident I would see
The name Deb M on the cover of a book.
Dear Mrs. Brown,
I am writing to ask you if you believe in St. Valentine's Day.
Your prayers have been so mature and sincere, I thought you would know ... I recall one February 14th, it was way past dinnertime, when my Valentine's came to me. I had reason to hope, but by 6 -O-clock in the evening, sadness gave way to despair. Then as if all the words of Jesus came in one big evening, I had the best Valentine's Day ever. What caused the delay?
I know you get lots of mail, Mrs. Brown, and delayed sending you one more. But then your prayers for pastors and missionaries had so much protective power - umbrella and shield - I just wanted to talk further with you. So, thanX much even if the mail does fail, because your faith and our Savior, Jesus, won't. Ever. Amen
I
It is a new day, before 2, after midnite
It is dark, humid. We have fans, quiet
So too refrigerators, AC, & soon, phones
As it looks likely, the blackout goes on
II
It was so hot & humid, I went outside
Took a plastic chair, a break from inside
Watched faint glows from white farms
As steady rain falls, fog it's art performs
Ray Barone
Gets into trouble on his own
He's a sports writer and a family man
Part of a dysfunctional Italian clan
Debra Barone
Her husband does things she cannot condone
With overbearing in-laws across the street
Her mood flips between sour and sweet
*Everybody Loves Raymond*
October 6, 2021
Clerihew 2 Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
*****************
I will always remember those
warm summer nights. Just out of
school and nothing to do.
under the stars swaying to
Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey
(your an angel of the first degree)
Can I forget the touch
of your hand in mine?
The scent of silken hair?
No-
never.
and never is so long a time.
Wait for me Debra like the buds
wait for spring; shinning in their own sweet time.
Wait for me Debra
I'll be coming home soon.
from the minute you gave your soul
into the safe keeping of Jesus Christ
you went on to lead an upstanding,
productive and blessed life
from the moment you met and married your true love,
your husband Kenneth Reid
you reaped a bountiful harvest
and built a business with God's righteous seed
the enemy came upon you shooting arrows
from every angle and in every way
yet our Father God continued to shield you
and lift you up each and every day
you fought the good fight Debra
and now you can gracefully lay down your sword
for Father God has called you up heaven
to receive your just reward
so today we salute you Debra
for being a soldier in the army of God
and your memory will live on forever
embedded within our hearts
you've been a trooper and a true disciple
until the very end
and our love for you will never die,
Debra Reid Our Sister, Our Friend
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.