I guess I never grew up. I'm not mature.
Anyway, why'd I wanna do that fur?
My mom called me smart aleck so many times,
I'd be rich if, for each one, I had dimes.
Want someone to do something, just say "don't".
It may be dumb, but you can't tell me they won't.
I'd choose the perfect VIBGYOR and paint the rainbow.
My violet will enfold the zeitgeist with zest.
With puzzles and riddles, my indigo will glow.
With the garb of serenity, Blue will be dressed.
Euphony and equipoise will adorn my green.
A trace of lace of goodwill will grace my yellow
In my orange, joy and merriment will be seen.
Like the north breeze, with vigour, my red will mellow.
I search for rainbows in each shade and fail to find
To form a spectrum, colors should be well-blended.
Within commands and demands, crayons aren't confined.
Creations of crayons have always been splendid.
I yearn to paint rainbows for each one here on earth.
For this, I know I have to take many a birth.
During the worst storms, when the heart mourns and warns, there comes a hope for more, hope for love that is beyond our knowing, love that is overflowing, love that is soundlessly growing ~~~ by the author
The wind sings of silent visions,
listening to what is meant for her,
the longings of a night’s revisions,
kissing away the shadows, the fears.
The rain breathes in stillness, gentle,
soothing away the pain and regret,
blessing the souls who’re sentimental,
reminding that He provides for each one.
The thunder booms, vibrating the skies,
teaching the spirit to believe,
even though one falls, soon they arise,
knowing the wonder of God’s fortifying.
The storm doesn’t cease until time reveals
the story of a heart who is fulfilled,
the song being sung is a song who surely heals,
teaching the spirit that love is God’s will.
When the weather leaves it’s note of conviction,
the night sings of dark’s infection,
there comes One who leaves no contradiction,
He is the reason I’m ever grateful…
For without His love, I’d be lost – dissuaded
from the beautiful hope His light persuaded.
Like Moses in the desert, I have wandered.
My destination nowhere in my sight.
I’m searching for the joy I have been promised
But hampered by the seeming lack of light.
Like Icarus of old, I am a pris’ner.
I’m chained here to the ground by gravity,
And haunted by the things I can’t accomplish,
The dreams of places I will never be.
Like Samson, I’ve felt utterly defeated.
It’s hard to trust that there’s a higher plan.
I fear giving in to mediocrity.
That where I’ll always be is where I am.
Like Hercules, I’ve had my many labors.
I’ve known my share of failure and success.
So many tests still waiting in my future,
And many miles to go before I rest.
Like everybody else, I have been wounded,
But deep down I am proud of every scar.
For each one tells me I am making progress
Although it seems I haven’t traveled far…
But there’s nothing else to do but move forward, step by step.
So, hand over hand I will climb.
I know it’s true that I may never reach my horizon
But I can leave where I am behind.
All it takes is effort and some time.
Sparsely lit streets added suspense
to stories I listened as a child,
dad used to point towards stars
making up stories for each one
awesome fairies, angels visited
me in colorful imagination
He taught me one secret -'truth
is your ultimate friend' his punchline
Mother taught me ways of girl-child
household chores, art of sewing such likes
to this day these teachings are the
good ones that have helped me through
I look through the window at
grandchild. Alert, sharp and busy -
its whole soul buried into mobile phone
swiping, scrolling, controlling
playing videogames wearing headphones
beginning life in illusionary world
no time for dad or mom or friends
no time for stories or for skies
unfamiliar to love, hugs or speech sounds
wasted childhood, less hope of future
wasted activity, lost hope of good things
Can a trampled flower bloom again?
Last week I cut a bouquet of flowers
from my garden and now they’re withering.
It fills me with melancholy memories
about a time when my love was new
and gently flowed within my heart.
Time between bud to bloom and death
of the once velvet petals has come too soon.
I've watched their bright colors fade
and frowned when some fell away.
It's as if their drooping faces
means their heartbeat is slowing down.
I sighed when in twilight's lavender embrace,
another petal fluttered to the floor.
I'm reminded of the childhood daisy game
and think, Will the last petal fall
as I whisper, "He loves me not?"
I hope it gently descends without grief,
but no relief will I find in its departing.
How I will mourn when at last, it dies,
leaving me with the sense of another loss.
I've held on as long as a bloom to its stem.
In the mayhem of life, I've had reason to sigh.
Memories linger inside my heart,
although my love and I have grown apart.
I am recalling each beautiful year
of the love we once had and then lost.
A tear for each one, I sorrowfully cried.
In despair, I will softly whisper goodbye
and weep as the last wilted petal falls.
When you travel and you’re on a plane,
Attendants must always explain
What to do in a crash
But the words they rehash
Most on board think are spoken in vain.
Yet a Delta flight recently dipped
As it landed and suddenly flipped.
Every seat belt held tight
As each one on the flight
Dangled upside down, very off-script.
Flight crews got all the passengers out
With some injuries scattered about
But they all did survive,
In one piece and alive,
Though quite shaken up, there’s little doubt.
A payout from Delta proposed
Thirty-thousand for each one exposed
To this harrowing turn
(More than some people earn)
But not worth it, as many disclosed.
your sandpaper hands climbing up the bark
peeling layers away revealing a spark
it wears out as quickly as it came
for you can’t have anyone know your true name
painted over and over until brand new
a veil for each one until you bid adieu
under it you are melting, an odorous mistake
only you wish it could be a prank
a lonesome world for those who bid harm
treating each woman like they are a farm
break them down and ravage with an axe
oh that won’t do, there isn’t a pass
"Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened"
by Anatole France
Animals: all the various kinds
every shape or color I'd choose
I'd love them all, not one left behind
in my longed-for garden's earthy hues
And, for each one, a home with nice views.
In my garden, two squirrels you'd find
for each needs a friend that looks the same.
Cows, lookiing so sweet, you know they're kind
and, of course, only those that are tame
Thus, no lioness with tousled mane.
Rock Island hens, and the birds in flight
a chorus of songs from those that sing,
Bunnies, puppies, kittens, black or white.
To all creatures, this wish I would bring
a warm home, safe far from winter's sting.
Reigning in cluster the edge of steep scarp,
the flock of mine sprawls so very proud.
I’m a meek loner in the midst of them all,
for each one is happy to be in the crowd.
As I’m secluded in a ditch of sequestration,
the kinship camaraderie they show with flair.
For my innate nature I’m often jeered,
since their line of subservience I don’t tow.
In their group I’m the strayed one,
my own person, I’m the odd one.
I’m branded as an aberrant madcap,
for in my candid way I’m like none of them.
Life for me isn’t shaped for fitting in,
it’s about standing outside the heap.
In my clan a black sheep I’ve been,
making the deviant otherness unique.
The thing about Nature is...
By Michelle Morris
03/10/2024
The thing about Nature is...
She helps slow your pace right down
Your heart beats with Gaia's heartbeat
And She shows you how it's done
The green spaces in dappled woods
Where sunlight winks at you
Trees reaching for the blue skies
As Nature shows Her Truth
Where rivers gurgle and giggle in delight
Playfully running to the sea
Where faeries and mischievous creatures
Show you how magical Life can be
Here in these Sacred Spaces
Between Time and Humanity
We can reach our own Soul's Spark
Listen carefully to its Secrets
For each one of us is born
To create beauty in this Universe
No Life was created for Destruction
We're meant to lift our collective Spirits
But only when we know ourselves
Can we walk the best Path for us
To create Magic and Miracles in our own Lives
Until we return to Nature as Dust
© Michelle Morris, 2024
Vibrant life is Creator’s gift worthy to be enjoyed
Triumphant in vanquishing selfishness, arrogance, apathy
Radiant to exude peaceful bliss, marked by love midst care.
Abundant blest life
assured by the Lord of joy
conquers dearth’s gloom with hope's bliss
toward good sharing
ready for each one who works
while trusting provisions’ Source.
Jubilant great life
brings us this New Year by faith…
we claim with God’s grace*
*2Corinthians 9:8 And God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work.
This poem employs three forms:
1. Sijo has three lines. Each line varies between 14 and 16 syllables.
2. Sedoka consists of 6 lines of 5-7-7-5-7-7 syllables respectively.
3. Senryu has 5-7-5 syllables respectively.
9th place, "UP TO YOU" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/10/2024.
sweet zephyr breezes
jasmine empress butterflies
rainbows in our sky
silence once golden
angelic voices trumpet
song of the poet
unity breeds strength
moonbeams in togetherness
sunlight for each one
living in the now
join the love revolution
smile on your brother
seeker of eden
no longer searching alone
bards in harmony
Savor the day that every sunrise brings
for each one is a gift God sent.
Don’t come to the end of your winter’s road
wondering where those summer days went…
I want to read these poems to you face to face one day
To look into your eyes while reading all I've had to say
I hope you have some time to spend, there's lots of words to read
It might take hours, it might take days, but for this drive I won't speed
The only thing I ask of you is a small kiss for each one
At present count there's hundreds, but these odes might not be done
What if there's a thousand? What if there are two?
Will you give me all those kisses still? I really hope you do
At this rate I may never stop but you don't have to keep
Your side of the bargain, or you might never sleep
So let's just say one hundred, I'm not greedy after all
Even one, if it's from you, would leave me thus enthralled
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