Too impassioned more forlornly flower, does the turning dais merit another brother from which hails the borderline snowy hail, that which emotes so white that one mistakes the ink for snowcones, the pen for flavor? I should only curse the forewarning of any haunted house the suitor exiled the forsworn blouse a billowing willow fades with time, time-travel indeed, two sick swines.
Freedom-bliss around family love prevails
Around caring nurture that our blest home hails...
My heart does thank God for parents' legacy
Instilling compassion, truth, peace, and mercy...
Leading us, their children* with their utmost best
Yielded to divine might toward triumph's crest.
Love-filled, my siblings and I enjoyed life's worth
Optimizing very well --- heaven on earth...
Vanquishing selfishness midst sharing delight
Ever-grateful to extend love in hope's light.
Ephesians 6:1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right.
Acrostic in couplet as well as rhyme forms.
May 9, 2026
6th place, "All About Family" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Len Gasun; judged on 5/17/2026
A squirrel named Zip McFlurry
ran track without a worry~
he’d dash along the treetops
with lightning in his tail.
He trained with nuts for protein,
his stride was crisp and clean,
and every time the whistle blew
he’d simply outrun the cheers and hails.
The rabbits tried to pace him,
the blue jays tried to chase him~
but Zip just grinned and shouted,
Catch up if you can!
For no one on the forest team
could match his speedy gleam~
the champion of the woodland track,
Zip McFlurry was a lean, mean running machine.
O ye songbirds crammed in a captive cage.
Whilst ye flutter to free from confined space,
Man’s spirit hails home and hearth all his age
Opting for cells’ safety but freedom less.
O captive birds ye sing but wails of rage
Whilst staring at blue skies, freedom’s lost face,
Free birds swing whilst perched on a branch--their stage,
And sing songs of freedom with avian grace.
And alight to homing trees just to rest
Or rear their young in the safety of nest--
Enduring home, not once a prison’s rage,
Whilst man’s freewill seems fleeting at its best,
A prison cell besides, if nigh modest--
A rainbow summoned in a sunny cage.
______________________________
Sonnet | 09.02.2026 | birds, cage, freedom, home, prison
Romance craves wide enough space to dance,
Neighbours as need betwixt them good fence,
For love is a river, pool nor pond,
Apart stand banks though each to each fond…
Let breeze from heaven blow ever hence.
As two mutual cups fill, drink from own,
Let love leave leisure time all alone,
Though close by, alone stand strings of lute
To quiver quite in sync or all mute,
Harmony hails one’s very own tone.
Together, but hang no close to heart,
Pillars of a temple stand apart,
Oak, Cypress that so taller are made,
Seldom can grow in each other's shade,
Stay apart, playing apportioned part.
____________________
Musings | 05.03.2006 | freedom, love, Quintain
Note: Original by Kahlil Gibran, interpretation done in anapaest meter, Quintain (limerick) in construction, not in mood.
I rejoice where peace is sacred to tease;
Where people draw lots to prove I'm insane...
To beat countless weep into sleep at ease
Without mastery of such acts deep down brain.
I rejoice nonstop...
Praise wriggles every sweat's drop
Till my voice can't pop.
I rejoice where reasoning is far a cure;
Where insanity peeps gut to be gone...
To keep off every thought which seems obscure,
Contemplating of how easier than done.
I rejoice undone...
Praise hails Almighty off fun,
Till my thoughts be gone.
I wish Wems a good day for this new age,
With pleasure well placed out of clock's hands rage...
Counting down seconds each time,
Cum minutes-hours till prime
Dates months of seasons in-out of life's gauge.
Be happy my good friends,
How time of season comes;
Past years- how each blends-
Today's wishes... for joy drums...
She
Sat in silence
As they spoke
Words, so many words
No meaning
Just sharp tones
They ached
Deep in her bones
She
Who is she
Can you feel her
Who gave her authority
Protected by LOVE
Plans and schemes
Always failing
Kneeling
She
Has no sense of pride
No escape
Enduring all trials
Patient to a fault
Bearing burdens
Heavy, dense
Determined
She
Fights, wars
Yet plays like a child
Betrayed, forsaken
Giving til empty
Hope hails her
Vision shapes
Thought joined way
She
......has become
Written by Trudy Schrader on 12-30-2025
I'm in the Pursuit of Peace;
Elohim my Father's release;
I have a right to live;
Humanity mainly takes not give;
I live because of God in Christ;
Fundamental choices our rights;
Regardless of my race, sex, nationality;
Basic formidable fundamentally;
Freedoms to have my own spot on Earth;
No man deems my worth;
Equally to everyone protected;
From unequivocal mistreatment;
No matter who you are,
We are all children of God
Good or bad, rich, poor choices;
Are to be pleasured diverse verses;
~
Direct choices, divine grace surely hails;
Human rights and pursuit of peace avails;
Let Lanka be made all of gold,
Still, O Lakshman, it leaves me cold.
Greater goes mother, motherland,
How so grand hails heaven’s dreamland.
____________________________
Translation | 21.10.2025 | gold, dreamland, heaven, mother, motherland
Note: Taken from Ramayana. The war is won, Lanka conquered, welcome are they as guests in this golden land. Yet, victorious Rama is eager to go back to his kingdom. Why? The verse explains here. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse:
Api svarna-mayee lankaa na me lakshmana rochate |
Jananee janma-bhoomih cha svargaat api gareeyasee || Ramayana ||
Shh! don't make any peeps.
But it's in our nature to make many more peeps.
Say ouija ouija ouija, to move the marker to true aim.
Say one too many times or too few less and you have made a grave sin.
Hands free writing gets a new meaning when using telepathy.
Or would you just call it automatic writing?
PEEK A BOO, now I see YOUZ.
Coming back from the banished zone of silence.
Thanks be to youz, bleeping peeps.
I am free to explore these other dimensions further away from my damnation.
Compounding the holy with common festivities.
Naturally makes for a truly holy festival.
Cheers to the man holding the skull aware of his final destination.
Frans Hals hails the successful seance.
F-orget all bitterness and move on
O-ther’s failure gives one to two-ways lesson
R-elationship is drab without challenges
G-rowth hails from discoveries of one’s weaknesses.
I-nscrutable depth of opinions must keep us insensate
V-irtues and values are divine to perpetuate.
E-rase spotted anger, pains, scars…let them go
N-estle in God’s forgiving hands who loves us so.
E-xemplify our Savior’s humility and generousness
S-hake off the virus of pride, acceptance bring lightness
S-hare peace for our freedom and pure happiness
At dusk when my shadows quit me,
That’s when hundred arrows hit me.
So far some faceless folks fooled me,
My own close to heart now cheat me.
A feeling heart hails thee, my friend,
Come heart to heart, why audit me?
Come, pry unto my nightlong dreams,
Thence, for what I say credit me.
Dawn dawns, if dream deprived I wake,
Daylong your reveries greet me.
_____________________
Ghazal |18.07.2025| dream, passion, sleep,
bright-lit Lughnasadh
hails grain crops at the ready
Lugh and Danu join
in harvest celebration
gratitude is genuine
Late November,
and lonely resonance of harmattan
salutes this solitude.
A weaverbird's contralto, in one
gale-sweep, lays bare the lower balustrade
of a maisonette,
and the romance of the last seasons
shoots the long throat of the clarinet...
O'classicals, on wings
ye come;
leaf cusps and petal ears —
classicals, swearing oaths of
mellifluous assembly...
Calm rhythms hasten to the
ears of Beethoven —
summon him for a serenade,
lest the dark shelter of a
decrepit day strips this solitude.
Anodyne hisses among
this hidden threshold,
curing and healing the weakness of
Clepoatra's hair, dampened with
the venom of haters of vanity.
Classicals,
rid us now of this grief of mundane
dances...
Even in death, Stravinsky hails solitude
on notes of the keys.
From the clarinet,
the bimetallism of barter —
the platitude of life and death
(symbiosis of percussions)
epitaph to the aftermath of
inveterate tradition —
now and forever...
And the clarinet looms.
Rather than talking to walls -
I talk to the universe
Which talks back.
The Milky Way hails -
The stars wink endlessly -
The planets - they enchant -
And if my ears are sharp -
I might hear steadfastly
The drum of time
In sync with my heart -
The crickets and the owls
As one rhyme.
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