Above, flowers stir and wake in my presence.
They welcome me home with bright petals.
The sun grows joyous at my return.
Wood added to a fire, it seems to burn brighter.
A warmth born of Hestia's hearth blooms through my chest.
It is a pulse.
A paintbrush - Green spilling through dry grass far as the eye can see.
The sky unburdens itself of rain.
The world is filled with adoration.
Though below,
I know Husband Hades awaits with a comforting chill in his hands.
His arms are open wide.
Even when the sun is blown out like a match,
it gives way to a night, where the quiet restores the body.
Hypnos. Nyx. Morpheus. A restful darkness.
The hearth does not die down.
Fences fall. Stone walls crumble. The fire inside lives on.
Grass, although gone, gives way to the clear, sweet waters of oath-bound Styx.
Ancient. Familiar.
It whispers of my return.
The sky breaks open, weeping until the fields drown in nourishment.
Dark or light,
Winter or spring,
Life or death,
Everywhere Persephone goes,
The hearth only seems to burn brighter.
When I think of you, I think of you as my color yellow.
Bright, beautiful, happy and drawing in like the sun. Your energy is captivating. Your love is warm and full, giving me a hug so tight and embracing not letting go.
I don’t want to let go and at times I seek shade.
The color of you will eventually fade but your light shines bright within my chest as it beats.
You are my living testimony of my favorite color. My favorite heat wave from the chemistry of our love on this earth exists.
Hydrogen and oxygen will never die down our fire. You are my sun, the light that I desire.
I've never been one for tight spaces
Where you have to conform
Cause no one actually cares that you're different
Cause they themselves started that way
They started with a lot of charisma
With the world as their tapestry to share their ideas
They got people listening,
Until one day when nobody listened any more
And instead of reinventing themselves they caved in
Cause they wanted to fit in
They didn't want to be left out
In those small spaces where only a few get in
They talk down on us with the charisma
Saying it will also die down soon
But I keep reinventing myself
It's hard to slow down when you're pacing about
And that's why I keep moving even when the odds ain't in favour
Maybe I don't care about the odds
Or I don't even understand how the game is played that's why I keep winning
Cause I don't overthink, I just roll the dice and play
And I have a good laugh while I'm at it
The PO£T
Don't let the painted layers that were made to make up , stop you from questioning the feelings behind their costumes and gown.
The slightest smudging, by which sympathetic fingers smear, unmasks fear, and an underlying frown
At the end of every day, when curtains close and the lights die down. Floodgated tears emerge, from the sad eyes of a person
Perceived only, but a CLOWN
Flowers is beautiful
When its fresh
Its fragrance wafting
Its nice to smell.
Flowers beauty is short live
Its colors will soon fade
It will die down
And soon forget.
Flowers when given to you
Though voluntary given
Should have given care
For it pass only in a life chance.
We were given a high alert of windstorm last night.
The rustling of the leaves in the wind woke me up.
The wind caused the non-stop banging of my front
door I ignored to move my body along with the music.
The strong winds stopped after a few hours that I looked
up the sky, the gray clouds covering up the white ones
and then gone turning the sky to a dull blue or livid.
The sun started shining brightly, but the sky remained dull.
Rather than focusing on the wind alert for today and
tomorrow, what would it bring and the dull blue sky,
I am thinking of the rainbow, the beauty and the colors
of the rainbow giving hope for the wind to die down.
The rainbow colors represent the visible light spectrum.
Red for passion, love
Orange for energy, creativity
Yellow for cheerfulness, positivity
Green for nature, renewal
Blue for calmness, trust
Indigo for intuition, awareness
Violet for imagination, spirit
The rainbow is regarded as a symbol of hope, renewal and
promise of better times; hope across the universe, renewal
of the mind for positive change and promise of better times
in believing a brighter future ahead with optimism and positivity.
It rained for three days
Constant outpouring awakens
The dry river to life again
A little farther besides our home
I hear the rumbling sound
Of water slowly snaking though
Descending, bulldozing its might
Pushing those like foam and debris
Downward plaining going farther
I can't wait for my outburst feeling
Whether I be sad, fear or happy
Sad cause by the inundation
Of what if it will go to flooding
And cause damage to land and properties
Fear of natural disaster to happen
Happy for our root crops ration with water
The rain did not stop its fury
I was tamed for three days in seclusion
Looking outside observing the effect
Slowly the rain die down its anger
Slowly also the river begun to calm down
Almost a day also the river dries up
And it goes back to totally back to sleep
That's when my fear and sadness also cease
Back to normal, life goes on to live.
It has no conscious and does not care!
To know it's coming brings much despair!
A Great Big Bully, lands on this earth.
This spinning funnel is heading North!
Dark clouds You see, hailstones and Rain!
Destruction follows, Strong Winds to blame!
The Weather channel on high Alert!
Warns increase wind gust, are getting worse!
Nowhere to run to, nowhere to go!
You're at its mercy, loosing all hope!
A cursed word screamed at the howling wind!
As windows break, and the storm roars in!
You Brace yourself as it makes impact!
Your home lifts up, drops, as you react!
Your at its Mercy, as debris flies!
In a state of shock, but still alive!
Your soul is shaken, as winds die down!
Destruction and damage, all around!
You catch your breath, there's nothing left!
Broken and crying, from this Attack!
The storm is over, calmness returns.
Oh No, Near Cuba, another Storm!!!!!
Michael Tor
Michael Tor
I wrote this for all those
souls including my brother
Gus and his family that are
waiting for Miltons's wrath.
Please pray for these souls.
Thank you.
As I sit still in the still vehicle looking at the water hole with sure expectation, once through binoculars and again with normal gaze, there was sudden movement as a herd of deer approached the water hole. So far masked in dry reeds, a spotted tawny live-spring sprung to action. Even before I could shift my gaze from normal to binocular and back to normal again, a young deer hung in the cheetah’s panting mouth. As she carried away her food to her waiting family, the herd bent down as one, to graze proper. Wild Day’s business, but the tourist noise didn’t die down. Ashamed at barging in, I felt more sad than being excited. Something dawned on me at that moment, I decided not to be a tourist again.
a death to feed some
hunting to live to raise own
before brash lenses
I cry.
I sob.
I whimper.
But in your arms,
I cry less.
I sob less.
My whimpers die down.
I sniffle, looking up at you.
That sweet smile, that fills me with love.
You tell me, “It’s ok, I’m here”.
Then I cry again,
because I know
that I cannot be in your arms
any longer.
A good day into a mood day
Why’s everyone being crude day
The sun is radiant
So what’s with the frown
How did the moods die down
From a happy community
To what happened to unity and the impunity
A small town as a family in disguise
Whatever happened to being allies
This is where it’s all hands on deck to rebuild what was
A pandemic seems to fall under a probable cause
It’s a long road to peace so let's take our time
A beautiful symphony turned into a conflict in the summertime
A wicked wind with haunting howls
Make trees tremble as leaves leave limbs
A sinister sky turns the day dark
As lightning lights up the sky with furious flashes
We wait nervously for it to die down
As the raucous roar of thunder tells the stormy story
Waves whip around in the savage sea
As ships surrender to its merciless might
The vicious violence make them swiftly sink
As nature's deadly destructive power prevails
4-22-2023
Writing Challenge - 'W' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
A boss can The Vigorous retire
While the latter is still a live wire,
His arms still sinewy, his feet sound tires:
The one who vibrant kids sires...
A boss can send home his firm's tears' dryer:
Saver of company's cars from mire,
It doesn't have to die down: 'the fire'
Nor does it need to corrode 'the wire'.
Then, your arguments could hearers tire
And, dragged too long, make you little liar;
Ones clearly seeking a confused buyer,
Wherefore you could not but go that higher...
Bosses mostly retire The Tired
And when they do they have them just fired!
Don't let my hope die down
although i know it was mine
to begin with
And the moon is praying
yet some see Elijah bestrode back in town
but I'm an old sinner
too old for my years
not knowing who would emerge
from the gloomy vale
I rode away
to see the harbour's light dim
but still I think of outside
where all the pain was
(Exodus of Refugees)
Trotting over dried up dreams
leaving love to die, identity to dissolve
they let familiar terrains swim past view
with everything slipping out of eye shot
no looking back, the unknown stretches far ahead
behind the hills, muffled cries die down
Nov. 13.2022
~ Placed First in Brian's Contest~
Bite size poem. No 55
Sponsor- Line Gauthier
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