The summer season
The couple laid on
The lawn chairs staring
Up at the dark sky
It was a warm eve
The full moon was bright
The stars were shining
They looked like diamonds
As they were staring
At the moon and stars
The couple held hands
Content being together
The bond of love strong
Their two hearts are one
Baseball Betty asked her new boyfriend to help teach the little girl baseball.
She had no idea that Stanford had never been to a game.
He did not know how it was played.
He had never held a bat.
Or possibly one ball.
For an hour and a half Betty taught Veronica how to play baseball.
While Stanford read a book on how to play the game.
When he looked up, the lesson was over.
Veronica was gone, and so was Betty.
She never returned.
Knowing their relationship did not have a chance now.
She was a hands-on-woman.
He was a book learner.
This world experience
is an on-going story
with no hands writing it.
There are no hands but yours.
Imagination needs fingers
if it is to shape an idea,
and thought needs a glove
to become its reality.
In the end, there is no beginning,
in the beginning there is no end,
all in-betweens are a fiction.
That which cannot be said in words
will forever exist.
God has no words for you
but:
I AM.
Feedback - flight or fight – it’s due to enzymes.
God put it in our brain, safeguard for crimes;
fear is normal, a good thing many times.
Facts fog up when fear uses its strong-arm.
What is meant to keep us sheltered from harm
can fail just like any other alarm.
A freeze from fear forces all hands on deck.
When fears become phobias, take time, check
your fear can be a liar, a roughneck.
Facing the fact of a fear of failure
pray to God; ask others to help for sure.
With effort on your end, you’ll find a cure.
Focus on the freedom you can achieve
when your irrational fear goes on leave.
January 22, 2023
This is a reasonnet - four tercets rhymed AAA,BBB,CCC,DDD, and a couplet rhymed EE. I have used pentameter, but that is not required according to the creator of this form, Reason A. Poteet (yes, that's me).
HANDS
ambidexterous, mine and yours, yet clasping each other
in prayer for poets - and Elizabeth or Lisa - best for sister, mother
Dear Connie advised hands on healing
My husband thought this so appealing
I said hands off my chest
I can heal my own breast
With a flea in his ear he’s reeling!
Connie is a reiki practitioner and has been sending me distance healing. She advised me to do 'hands on healing' to help with my breast haematoma and I know it is working and the lump is getting smaller. Three nights this week I have had the most intense purple colour when I close my eyes
2/11/18
E-arly twenty-third January,
M-onday morn starts to break;
Z-enith and beacon heal
Y-our pain and your heartache.
P-ure delight and mirth
A-re brought to the day;
L-et the dark evening end,
O-ne lonely night fades away.
M-ist and haze are both gone, celebrate your birth with glee;
A-llow your arms to put your hands on your right knee.
savagery, alive in eyes - his snarling menace breaking my body
Susan Ashley
July 30, 2017
~ Second Place ~
Contest - Monoku 1: Your Best
Sponsor - Silent One
Death dangles his hands in my front
Like a pendulum Bob,
Yet,I'm not scared ,
even though I lost my entire family
in s fatal auto crash,I'm not afraid ,
Got deformed in a gas explosion ,
Losing my foster parent ,I remain
unperturbed; I will over come,
My eyes are dry like moist desert ,
My heart is frozen;frozen with sorrow ,
My emotions are dead,dead! to the outside world ,
My love is sour and my soul cannot be consoled,
For those that I love are no more ,
And now I battle with prostrate cancer,
As death rest his hands on my shoulders,
This romance will soon end.
7-29-2017
The coyote circles
he always circles
he shadows the path
of our existence
set by the pattern
of wind blown seeds
The old man sleeps
while his children
play by the fire
He thinks he is
still the slayer
of enemies
that are long gone
The crow waits
in a ragged nest
for us
to move on
My old heart
beats like this
grinding stone
it beats, it beats
and it beats
until it is still
like the dogs
in the afternoon
Sleep waits for me
like a white wolf
in the shadows
of that long line
of trees
Patient as water
he must wait for me
until I finish
my meal
Breadmould on my stale slice of bread
This was my lunch left for dinner gone bad
I’m attempting to write about someone else’s circumstance
In who’s world this is true - forgive my pretence
I cannot divorce my thoughts from worry
The burden of my heritage I must carry
I drive across sewage on my way to work
I splash it with my tyres where people walk
I take the freeway ‘cos I hate being stuck in traffic
There was an accident – I'm gonna be late - someone died, terrific?!
This reality is growing hungry as the world grows
Angry and less carrying for each other, who knows?
I brood about my arrogance and question my origins
To justify my brutality at someone’s demise
I had a long day – being murdered on the phone
I need to regulate my stress like a dog needs a bone
My face looks up to face my reflection – my frustrations!
I need relaxation - I start to pen – my meditation :-)
I hold my head - hands on my temple
Trying to resemble the meaning of being humble
Firm breasts
Hands test
;-)
God resting
His weary hands
upon the
storm but
Letting His
will
Diminish
it
Teach successfully
Through technology
Productivity
By Robb A. Kopp
as there is no was ,in recongnition
of status,or rely on previous laurel
whose standard is foredone and
broken,so shld each soul treasure
the name in one hand alone.
who does solitary shun,and loves
with i to build the most concrete of
marks,come forth with both hands,as i,
we shall carve the fortress that disunity disdains
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