Time, the great equalizer, yet mastered by none;
Deadline’s enemy, said to fly when linked with fun.
An endless river flowing toward the future;
Excites planners anticipating adventure.
If time was the medium to settle the score,
Would it make people pause and reflect a bit more;
And gauge success by serving a higher purpose;
Not by the rat-race, keep-up, cash-chasing circus?
Asset? Liability? Depends on one’s use;
To daydreamers, it can be a life-wasting muse.
Valuable to those who save early in life;
But wait too long, and it engenders later strife.
A claimed healer of wounds, helping many forget;
Prior mistakes, harms, other sources of regret.
Time moves steadily forward, present becomes past;
Outpacing people, places, things that do not last.
Pertaining to people of particular properties
who ignoring inherent danger
within minutes of first meeting
insist on telling every stranger
their personal preferences
and why they persist is beyond my ken
it never occurred to me to do the same in the past
however and in the hope my name it won't sully
the following admission is my first and last
altho' merely an instance of happenstance
as perceived I am as one with an arrow
conceived born and bred
in the bones to the marrow
I may be crazy as a loon
mad as a hatter
nuttty as a fruitcake
pick the one you prefer it doesn't matter
for at the end of the day I am who I am
in every way and all it engenders
and except in the face of a lady's love
this upstanding gentleman never surrenders
So many athletes get their start
When they’re in school, or younger,
With parents to encourage dreams
And help sustain that hunger.
They’ll build a backyard skating rink
Or schlep them to their classes
And drain the family’s bank account
Plus take vacation passes.
The lucky ones fulfill those hopes
And join the real contenders,
Competing for the recognition
Such a feat engenders.
But what about the other ones,
Who never reach that level,
Whose injuries or lack of talent
Torment and bedevil?
I wonder if they sit and watch
The games and all the glory
And wish they had a very different
Ending to their story.
She's grown old
Having norished many a soul
Leaving her imprints on a stroll
Dispensing knowledge, never to fold
Many have been sheltered from the cold
Inside her strong walls, I was once enclosed
And encouraged to be courageous and bold
Taught to read, write, and do the math,
Preparing me for life's stormy path
Her externals are aged and unsightly
Yet she stands lovingly and waves politely
Her internals portray battles for survival,
And being held together with bolts and rods,
She's very much alive and thrives
She engenders memories of sadness and joy
Reminding me of experiences when just a boy.
With a reddish tin-top roof, she sits by the road
Where she's resided for more than a century.
There are still future stories yet to be told about
The little country church in a little southern town.
bookends of color
engenders and seals each day
it's nature's halo
Is Echo anything beyond a voice?
Narcissus is a very handsome man.
Is love an obligation, or a choice?
It hasn’t varied since the world began.
Narcissus is a very handsome man.
He sees his own reflexion, and he knows:
it hasn’t varied since the world began.
To love an egotist engenders woes.
He sees his own reflexion, and he knows
he is his own enduring fantasy.
To love an egotist engenders woes –
one thing will always block you: that thing’s “he”.
He is his own enduring fantasy:
he seeks no other: he’s both hook and bait.
One thing will always block you: that thing’s “he”.
Thus gorgeousness becomes an ugly trait!
He seeks no other. He’s both hook and bait.
He’s empty. As we say, he’s lost the plot:
thus gorgeousness becomes an ugly trait.
But sound, like memory, can mark the spot.
We think love lasts for ever. Clearly not.
Abandoning a partner now seems rife.
The axioms we’ve lived by are forgot.
What are the privileges of a wife?
Abandoning a partner now seems rife.
Is love an obligation, or a choice?
What are the privileges of a wife?
Is Echo anything beyond a voice?
Stone clad hotels and banks,
stone-faced facades.
Stone monuments carved by old money.
The stone-poor have no stone history,
they will leave no archeology
to be excavated and raised.
Their throw-away artifacts
go to the landfills,
If they have stone. it must be dug up
to clear the way for more hard-scabble.
Here is a celluloid picture,
I am in my prime,
a pretty woman by my side,
we walk a downtown boulevard
where solid stone is raised high.
The image engenders another image,
that same photograph
bursting into flame,
now curling to ash in a grand chimney
and hearthside,
a fireplace that speaks
of an opulent and gilt-edged wealth -
one built of an ageless and abiding
stone.
Blue faded.
The same horizon, the same clouds
changed by brushes from an impressionist painter.
The lavender sky blushes
and the crest of the cheery trees beams
as the wind hums, enticing belated bumblebees.
Twigs rattle waking a little shepherdess bellow.
Amber eyes browse the dusky glen.
She whistles, summoning her hound
and ties her undulating hair with a butterfly.
She engenders a ballroom below the tree’s canopy.
and abandons her boot, her cap, her apparel.
A blushful wind sews a new dress with dead leaves.
She tiptoes on the top of the grass blades
and two small primroses flourish on her face
as the tender breeze takes a rhyme from her lips.
The tangling grass tickles her feet
and a perishing sunray slips between the leaves
to reach her cheeks.
She hoovers free and twirls making herself a target
for distracted bowmen…
.. her dog barks and she eyes down
to a basket with four remaining heart-shaped berries.
Night arrives and starlight precipitates.
The little shepherdess greets the drops of rain with a spin.
Listen, listen to the lingering melody.
Beholding something beautiful engenders pause
Each stare or gaze or look demands yet another
Audacity compels me to move in for a closer view
Until my eyes and heart are soothed, I stand frozen
Temptations to touch invade every fiber of my being
I must reconcile my reality with what might be a dream
Fulfillment is to make the object of my affection my very own
Unadulterated bliss awaits me if only such beauty could be mine
Love of the truest kind would make such beauty absolutely heavenly
Foliage obscures pathway tread with care
Furze and Heather create magical glow
High on the cliff breathing pure ocean air
Watching blue sea seething madly below.
Enjoying perfection under Spring sky
Sea-birds cavort doing avian dance
Moment of happiness engenders sigh
I am in the moment of happenstance.
Solitude welcome away from turmoil
At last time to think and reflect on life
Respite is a gift that nothing will spoil
Pure breeze blows gently at last there's no strife.
A perfect moment encapsulated
All negative thought evaporated.
'S' Words
Poetry Contest
Chosen Word Sea
Sponsored
by
Constance La France
08/04/2023
Pixabay image: Pawny
A full-gorged moon opens its illumined glare,
a limpid dementia with predatory eyes.
It enters bedrooms, cellars, attics
creeps into crawl-spaces,
follows us into slumber
to raise the bones of shipwrecked dreams,
and snare the unborn in their unformed wombs,
dark seeds are planted there
before any egg is laid.
A Luna light engenders
an iridescence of last-hope.
!t changes the stories told yesterday
into heart-breaking legends
on the cracked face of a celestial delirium.
In daylight some call out:
“Did you see that moon last night?”
They answer: “No, I must have missed it,”
but their crazy eyes tell a different story.
Above the woods you can see it
it all of its’ emerald splendor;
ringing the wooded sentinels,
imaginative realms it engenders.
From a plane, I shot a picture
and endeavored to research;
in local legend lay the secret,
a Fairies ring forest growth unearthed.
There within that emerald ring
amazing vision I did see;
faeries paying homage
to the queen of honey bees!
The spread of faerie food, immense
and the celebration lively;
a birthday party for queen bee,
I realized made total sense!
A rare gift
That gets one through
The most rugged
of life's terrains.
A medicine
For the soul
Worth more than
the most expensive gem;
More valuable than
Material things.
Oftentimes
used to cushion
to soften
emotional blows.
a wondrous gift
that engenders
Laughter
and makes all
that is wrong
with this world
right again.
It reminds us
Not to take ourselves
Or life seriously; this rare gift,
A sense of humor
Date written: 09/26/2021
The passionate fever your wicked charm
engenders courses through my veins
like a rolling stream! It seems so effortless;
at it's climax, it trembles my body and soul.
I can't explain this hold you have on me.
Oh heaven above, may it never release!
Submitted for...
Bite Size Poem no.5 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Date written: 06/08/2021
The crowd broke into fisticuffs -
I heard it on the news -
For Middle Eastern politics
Engenders different views.
It happened in Times Square
Where brawlers gathered for a fight.
Pro-Israel or Pro-Palestine,
Each sure their side was right.
Such protests do not shock me -
All my life such things I’ve heard.
But fisticuffs? What did surprise
Was that old-fashioned word.
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