Radiation lobby,
filled with unspoken sense.
I see a community of fighters and partners.
The partners are
the curious who know.
They sit using books as blinders,
or sitting watching others.
They are family waiting.
The fighters are strugglers,
arriving with smiles or stone faces.
They are:
slow walkers
fast walkers
chair riders
cane holders,
or with chemo caps,
or cancer wigs.
Travelers
funneling through a journey of hope.
Given by greeters and nurses.
Cancers lessen
by treatment with
radium and cobalt sessions.
And then a bell rings,
for someone,
radiation is ending.
Now there is a light around you,
and you are free.
Still, we think of new others,
a cycle continues
with new faces same faces,
until cancer fades,
with no traces.
glib glassy green-eyed gruesome ghoulish goblins grabbing gloriously
glitzy glimmers of gourmet garnish. Giants give garbled ghosts gruff
growls. Gargantuous groups of glamorous gargoyles give greeters
goopy green gravy. Garbanzos grab globs of giant gamblling goulash.
Glum grieving giraffes generate gibberish in German. Granulated grocers gripe about grimy glittering goblets. Gainful games google greening, guessing about grimy graveyards of gruffly grotesque ghouls. Glam Grandma Gigi gazed at gradual greasy grasshopper’s greedy game-changing griddles and granolas. Grazing garbled granite gleaned Greta Garbo’s grateful giblet. Gus’s glorious greasy gangly go-go galoshes garnishing Gilly's’s gristled grizzled gemstone gleaning gallons of gracious gangly gallows.
And they came home battered, bruised,some we had to carry, unlike other armies ,we don’t shoot our wounded
We give them fresh water, tend their wounds,, sustenance to mend their soul and nourishment for what ails.
They come back from the front lines at all hours and always with love their bound
Stroud where their love is abounded
To cheers and salutations and our greeters summoned great support
Some of our wounded suffered Covid and death ,the pyres stacked high with wood and carried
Meetings ten ante meridiem and ten post meridiem , everyday of the year
Bloody and ragged, torn and hungry
Stroud where we are proud to serve,
God isn’t afraid to walk freely and His grace loves His steep streets
Mums never hide and Me Dad never shirks a duty nor a pint ,My sister is
quite the sassy one though
Porgie George, Little Jack Horner
Kissed a girl off in a corner
They were all thumbs and made her cry
Offed in prison, absent mourners.
Peter Piper, Peter Peter
Killed a girl and tried to eat her.
The cops dispatched each with a shell;
They help Charon, Limbo’s greeters.
The Yuletide Season
Seen through the window by the fireplace’s illuminating fuel
Is a family gathering celebrating the Yule;
A union of Noël greeters in wondrous delight
Expresses warmth, joy, and happiness within the house.
They wish each other a Merry Christmas with sincerity and cheer
And exchange cards and presents while snapping pictures.
In the corner, a fir tree stands with a star topper bright
Decorated with ornaments, tinsel strings, and twinkling lights.
Down the banister and around the room, garlands run,
And over the mantle, holly and a wreath are hung.
Then singing is heard accompanied by piano music playing,
Followed by the raising of glasses to toast the Yuletide season.
Outside in the cold covered with snow while walking alone,
Memories of home come to mind, and how the years have flown.
Never seen a fence I didnt want to climb..
walking around all hungry without even a dime.
nothing to big or too small,
to short or too tall, I new i could climb..
seems like when it came to that white picket fence..
I lost track of time..
how it got its fame????
but i see how it got its name..
On the other side, they said we are to blame..
The greeters in white sheets, and came with their treats...
With bombs in their hands, we were praying at their feet..
never seen that side, of the white picket fence but if i do , i would expect they would want the same hospitality????
Serenading voices of snow geese thrum in the morning sky
Unrivaled is the clangor of their echoed gabbles in October
Songs of Fall ride on the wind as russet leaves begin to fly
Unrobed are trees; stripped bare, looking bereft and sober
Ripened are amethyst crops of corn and grains in the field
Rivaled by a soft golden glow of the gibbous harvest moon
Undeniably beautiful, when in October its glow is revealed
Seduced by its romantic luminance, lovers kiss and swoon
On All Hallow's Eve, I see scary costumed trick-or-treaters
Feasting on candy given by generous household greeters
Ode to October, there's a chill aloft, whispering in the air
Conspiring with Mother Nature in such a glorious season
This pleasant month arrives with a stir of festive fanfare
Offering a kaleidoscope of colors, and with good reason ~
Brushes in artists hands paint landscapes of Autumn days
Eagerly, I welcome those dazzling hues that seem to blaze
Rife with splendid riches, I chant October's songs of praise
~ October 2, 2020 ~
Pick-A-Title, Vol 23-Seasonal Acrostic Contest
~ Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh ~
Biscuit Eaters
Not in control
Lemonade greeters
Potato beaters
Mushmouth man
And Toothless Tim
Shady Samuel
Jolly Ben
As the plates would have it
The Fried Chicken and string beans are all surrounded
Confound it
Should have had maybe
More onions in the gravy
Come and get it y'all
9/6/19
Words written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019
L-et's say hello to everyone,
A-nybody we meet anytime;
N-ever will it be difficult,
I-nstead it's easy and sublime.
D-ay twenty-fifth November, say hello to the well-wishers;
E-arly greeters are smiling because each one remembers.
A-llow the day to start,
S-hining with morning glory;
I-t's hard to say good-bye,
S-aying hello is so easy.
By the turquoise sea waters
lovely blossoms arise from their bulbs;
salute the mountains of their land
and wave at me, as breezes blow.
The azure sky o’er mountains gleams
full of cotton fluffed clouds;
bluebells ring songs to waves that
carry them to sailor’s lonely ears.
Would that mermaids had their legs,
these flowers they would pick and wear;
while singing out their siren songs.
to passing ships in early evening light.
Cork The Hole!
" Luv's-A-Leakin "
What does God see, what does He think?
Where will man, his value, place?
Will it be in this physical birdhouse,
or in the crafter's smiling face?
And what if this birdhouse should become
part of your home's decor.
With It's aroma of wood, glue, or paint,
but wait, there's yet much more.
It all began as a labor of love,
conceivably crafted by future Church leaders.
Perhaps, from among them will come Missionaries,
Pastors, Deacons, or Church greeters.
Crafted by small, yet unskilled, hands,
each accomplishing a given task.
And as recipients, you were chosen,
you bargained not, nor dared you ask.
As you enjoy your priceless birdhouse
Think Vacation Bible School, 2001.
Recall adults, sharing their faith in God,
while making this undertaking fun.
While actual birds may never opt,
in your Birdhouse to abide.
You will surely need a cork,
to keep It's contents secure inside.
Ghost Buster’s Eve
‘Tis the time
to shoot slime.
Adults Only Costume Party
Sex kittens prance.
Sultry nurses dance.
Party Food
Served eyeball soup
and goopity goop
A Bobbing Good Time?
Apple I get;
face sopping wet!
House of Creeps
The chainsaw guy
made me cry
A-Maze-ing Fright
Lost girl walks
where corn stalks
Jack O’Lantern Greeters
Bright as torches,
pumpkins on porches.
Night of Royals
Small and fair,
princesses are everywhere.
Trick or TWEET
One poor nerd
plays Big Bird.
Halloweenie
Wearing dumb costume -
a dashound’s doom
The ‘Trick’ to Trick or Treating
Door to door,
speediest kids score.
Vampire Candy
Dracula’s favorite treat
is bloody sweet.
Raiding the Kids’ Trick or Treat Bag
Of chocolate stuff,
can’t get enough
Over and Out
Big Harvest Moon.
Thanksgiving comes soon.
Nov. 3, 2018 for Mark Toney's Six-Word Couplet Series Encore Poetry Contest
So precious are wee trick or treaters,
much-loved by us generous greeters.
With sacks overflowing
and bright faces glowing,
they are grateful, sweet candy-eaters.
Then droves of six-footers come brawling
For buckets of candy they're calling.
In fake kiddie voices,
they make clear the choices:
I treat or they'll trick. So appalling!
"No treat" starts the six-footers scheming.
Those ghosties and ghoulies start screaming.
My pumpkins they're smashing.
Through fences they're crashing.
By midnight the Charmin is streaming.
October 14, 2018
Doubling Cape Horn is live or die.
Waves as high as thirty meters
Mean as a Zulu’s assegai
Well known down there as hell greeters
We be seamen every last one
For us passage is good as done
the grim truth behind the pride of viewing
the contents of the museum
is not obvious to the public
some are finding gruesome treasures inside
where men came out victorious from battle
those who were fortunate to return see the awful truth
behind the annoying but amazing comments
heard from frightened soldiers sleeping under the moon
do not patronize these heroes by ogling antiques
saved by the opaque ones who stayed home
do they see the wounded man
hiding behind the monolith of hatred
waiting for an opening to escape the horror
he fought with vicious stamina trying
not to be vindictive in his quest
coming back to a prelude of delightful greeters
waiting in the oval office
to pin a medal on his chest
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