To Live and Breathe ———-
———————————-
For time, again,
I dive into the Arts:
Colors my joy,
Lines my breath,
Words to tour
feelings, and these
Pens and pastels are
My instruments to
Draw upon the music
Of my solace…
Or, my thrill
Of translating
The scenes I see.
Where
The Peace of God
May be All…
Surrounding…
Creating…
Stroke by stroke
I could know
Heart arias,
Symphonic
pirouettes,
Poetic murals, and
Embroidered souls
With gold leaf
Embellishment.
In perfect pitch
The choir
commences,
Sounding
What cannot be
simply
Spoken - only sung—
Birds, humanity’s
First music
Teachers, fly upon
The tuning winds!
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(c) sally young
Eslinger 9/21
Glory to God!
* Depicting a young child or baby with sight impairment
given clear vision
Lens enhanced perception
Sands your face with precision
Rallying rows of eyelash perfection
Brush my conscience, bless my vision
Thrown avalanche realisation
My astonishment reflects rapture
Silent diction becomes spacious
Adoration boomerang captured
Freshly arrived from dim duller places
I glean impact of quiet transferrence
Transfixed by sculpted undulations
Facial telling message emergence
Struck by contrast's dimensions
Your eyes emit layers translated
Squeals of delight bolster senses
Sight huddles sound collaborated
Bearing immense advantage
Wearing miraculous glasses
Definition's parade outlandish
Ripples accompany laughter
% = % = % = % = % = % = % = % = %
I got a SoupMail; didn’t know
Who sent it, so I read it.
A person found a poem of mine
And had the thought to thread it.
By that, I mean embroidery –
She stitched it, oh, so neatly,
To make a lovely sampler which
Just floored me, quite completely.
Although she also sewed my name,
She needed my permission
For in a contest it would be
Her needlework submission.
To think, a rhyme composed by me
In New York months ago
Will be in a hand-sewn sampler
In a prized New Zealand show!
The world’s become a smaller place
As, miles and miles apart,
A stranger reached into my world
And lifted up my heart.
In the valley there is a boat
I gloat at this discovery
And look for the crests
That shook my spinal column
It is the curls of dreams there
Pearls of turquoise delight
For which aspires everyone
While swimming in English channel
Thanks to the bliss in the current
In pink yellow and orange
Van Gogh blooms in the valley
Natural flowers get envious
Embroidered waves rise and fall
Story of valley never ends
Heartbeats on the mountain tops
Skip a beat of yours and mine
September 24, 2017.
Contest : Form V - Verse Me a Poem.
Sponsor : Broken Wings.
Along the lovely verdant side
A spirited campus doth reside
Arouse the defts - yes they say
Molded deeply like clay.
In thy dark forest deeply sank
And there in every rivers bank
One found refreshment and delight
Could send a heart in joyful flight.
A dig deep trench in thy beauty’s field
Thou poignant pains thoust not yield
Heart and spirit for thee collide
Waving success as a sea tide.
Above the azure ness of the sky
Like a mighty eagle on its flight
Reaching stars with dreams don’t die
With great prowess on the might.
How, oh, how thou art arrived
On sixth staircase of the climb
And how in poignant trials doth abide
To make thy name sublime.
The sixth staircase now in thee
Through unity all seems to be
As a sweet vine on a fence
Is every heart in existence.
How often, oh, how often
Though brought the victors home
And as golden time listen
Despite the years of martyrdom.
Betwixt the past and future
Lies your present stature
The stature of glorious victory
By the spirits in melody.
As the crystalline murmur glisten
Hear thee the accents triumph song
Struck from the united chords listen
Compose thine victorious song.
She blithely dreams of flitting butterflies,
essence of lemon-drop poetry and
lighter-than-vapor argent cotton candy castles
upon empurpled cloud embellishes,
meanwhilst wistfully hot air balloons
designed of lilting paisley embroidery
inflated with the airy fragrance
of wildflowers' whimsied zestfulness
merrily drifts furthermost simultaneously
burbling curiouser moons & starry dusted
whirlwinds gaily prancing 'pon watercolor hues,
imagination's perceptibility musing
aloud mid sleepyhead synapses'
abstractly diffused spheres,
she softly ponders if this should
be Nirvana my only wish shall
evermore be to slumber endlessly
Spirit-born sun stood in my heart momentarily
It was naked and rolling around seeking for a shelter
Feeling the cold body it moved to my limbs
Spreading itself in strange little particles…
I gathered my sunny soul into my blood
I took it inside my aorta so it could feed from its spring
Outside it was just snowing while my spirit stared
Another pure season like that of the heaven
I took a few rays from the sun in the east
His form I sought while turning to dawn
I passed through the needle those rays one by one
Embroidering the shirt of my sunny soul
Now my spirit is no longer cold, it's like heaven again
Perhaps God gave the blessing to the fate and life
With that golden shirt heating the body cells
With all the nuances of this golden truth…