Hint of lavender in the air
Scent of roses, shoulders bare
In the corner woman fair
Ivory skin, light brown hair
Eyes meet mine, inviting glare
Approach her sitting in her chair
Walk into her blue-eyed stare
Time and senses unaware
Unblinking gaze, a touch we share
For me none other could compare
With nothing left for me spare
I kiss her lips right then and there
Garlands of light wrapped around our hearts. Let us gently usher in
the festive season of Hope, for with every smile we offer, we win.
Joyful as can be, we celebrate His birth by being present
at this very moment !
May God create in you an atmosphere of love, and may he open
the windows of your soul this year, so that you may illuminate others
on your path and journey.
That legendary year when Christ first appeared on earth,
well that must have been a true eternal moment of great glory,
For His Sacred garland of Devotion is still emitting light after all these
years. Today it is our turn to share our garlands of light, with each other.
Let us hold space as we wait for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ !
Amen.
In the garland in my mind, in fragrance of rose
as much as I wanted her I got pain much more,
kneel in bed to her soul in thirst of love
I had gone to her
shore.
In her lotus like eyes, I thought paradise
I could never guess all it was mise,
I wanted her I got pain
again and again
it was a desert not in rain.
She was boast, her mind was full of arrogance
my heart defeated over and again by her nonsense
she was obsessive but there was
no tune of love in that
trench.
Venom carried by that flow burnt my heart and soul
tears drooped down, tone of despair spread in the sky
in such a
foul.
In the garland in my mind, in fragrance of rose
as much as I wanted her I got pain much more,
kneel in bed to her soul in thirst of love
I had gone to her
shore.
Tasked to continue smooth function of cult compound
Sixteen svelte helpers of mindless vibrant physiche
Hurl their determination found in daily frequency
Milking cows, picking fruit, darning gowns
Draped swathes of cotton smother love worthy curves
Bunches clutched in fervent fists denote proactive
Chores suppress boredom, hours fast elapsing
Hushed among bustle, humbly built church
Rhythmic teat pinching hands press in prayer's commit
Wrists sturdy obedient, cream transform churning
Hundred shelled peas, obligated with urgency
Bound by scripture, called upon to submit
Duty is God's Will, blessed purpose supports hordes
Beauty unrecognised hair spun buns traditional
Released flaxen waterfall for richeous ritual
Sacramental fodder, holiest of whores
Chosen childless worship circle of dedicated wombs
Esteem rodeo results in offspring from Minister
Fallen garland bruised petalled begins her
Observance unto sermons emtombed
31st December
Cursed Yearning
What happened to garlands of roses
~ Why do winners get sour grapes now
CLIMBING
I try to climb the cascading garlands
Over-tossed from unseeable high points.
Oh, there! By a squint of the eye! A random,
Compelling break in the continuum allows
For a hint of the divine and, these delighting
Garlands — braids of faith, no doubt released by
The little hands of the angelic putti,while reciting
Limericks of heaven, and letting sound their soft smiles as they send below their gathered
Strings of blooms. To temp us...No...Direct us on
To further passages for souls praying for a reach
To eternal gates and gardens. There
Our longings are planted and watered by
God-collected tears. So,these are
The garlands of our lives, which we endeavor to
Rise upon again with now stalwart legs, and a full
Addressing of souls — awaiting splendor.
This trying to climb requires a strength
With a softness...only souls may inspire:
The breath to endure.
*******************
(C) Sally Young Eslinger 9/9/20
She skips barefoot through silken grass
A daisy garland in her hair,
But childhood moments swiftly pass
And happiness is sought elsewhere.
A teenager so full of fun
Clothed modestly in simple dress
Yet rich in character she grows
Desiring that her life will bless.
How gracefully she walks the aisle
Her hair adorned with floral crown
And feet raised high in satin shoes
Beneath her flowing bridal gown.
24.05.19
'A garland poetry contest' sponsored by Julia Ward
From fresh flowers, we are garlands with heaven-scent
Adorning royal dignitaries, influentially iridescent.
Gingerly recycled along war-on-waste advocacies
We are garlands surpassing ephemeral political policies.
Worn by celebrities accentuating awards’ extravagance
We can’t be missed as garlands of exquisite elegance.
Our great task is to be garlands of honour this Mother’s Day
Beautifying women excelling in their God-granted roles, no one can’t pay.
May 10, 2019
GARLANDS
A garland is a beautiful thing
It can be made by a host of many
Flowers, paper, greenery and twigs
Many for parties, weddings and gigs
Using for celebrations is all the rage
People have them on their invitations
But some are hung around the neck
As used in a local custom of welcome
26-4-19
if I could weave
Slender stemmed
Daliah garlands
around strands
of your sunkissed hair
Bathing in my chest
swallows made their nest
My hands sink into yours
as we stare across
the waters of perception
where all things floated
equally
Silence frowns this river
I wade through
Star filtered night
I am scent
You are depth
We are air
Lines of sweet garlands lie beside,
The winding road,
The stooping hill,
Pines and moorland bend to the ride,
Of Cupid’s delight,
The eerie, hoping thrill...
The shepherd’s flock, wool a-blowing,
Cow and music softly lowing,
To the wind which wisely, thanks bestowing,
Accepts the bow of Cupid’s aim...
Wind tripping lightly all along,
Its spouse, the cloud,
Its smile, the sun,
Sings the slipping, flighty throng,
Full voice aloud,
Along the frantic, joyous run...
The shepherd’s sweetheart, far away,
Stops from her song, stops from her Maying,
And hearing the sound, begins a-praying,
Accepts the flowers which high noon’s bride has thrown...
...........+++++............
again, she waits till granite morning
becomes juniper borealis
and marble evening returns to morning…
many of days the stars hide from arrogance
to radiance, shut eyelids burning heaven’s
fireplaces stillborn soft. and she waits
wondering
waning
wandering
till heaven holds her spleen from
whispers stenciled with half-known embraces
far, far away unto decaying killing fields
where bullets pierce the hope of many a man
who starve for homemade broth and slices
of children’s chaste eyes
fool, fool of maiden faith
daughter of tribal’s gliding ebb
tell me, are you diminished or stretched by
bravery that taunts the pain?
all rights reserved
©
...........................................................
Her innocence in daisy plaits ,displayed
Such naievty was so soon betrayed,
Touching romance' nettle brought much pain
When discarded,by his disdain,
Tears welled upon her pillow,
Forsaken love long wears the willow-
A broken heart,no words could save,
Death's red poppy,petals her grave.
Inspired by Ophelia by John Everett Millais
http://www.tate.org.uk/servlet/ViewWork?workid=9506
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