Ah, perfection…..
The ever-sweet concoction of confection
Color inside the lines no deviation
No platypus designs in this creation
Be British, never rise above your station
Perfection….
We’re told we’ll never get there - so why try
Achieving naught but failure till we die
Listening to teachers sadly sigh
While wiping way the tears we couldn’t cry
One size would never fit us all
From birth until we slowly learn to crawl
Neither can one bag collect the leaves of fall
Nor mute the changing tone of winter’s pall
Cold harriers will stalk the written word
Slash it with a heartless wooden sword
For using words that they could not afford
To describe a mud rimmed pond as a fjord
So strive to be the best that you can be
Remembering that freedom isn’t free
And as you etch the page with flowing ink
There is much room between red’s edge - and pink
John G. Lawless
©4/4/2022
Categories:
harriers, life, poetry, writing,
Form: Rhyme
A cummerbund of peach and tangerine
below Persian blue sky now washes pale,
Marsh Harriers and Starlings call, unseen,
competing in bizarre chromatic scales.
Sewn onto the horizon in a hem,
like cardboard cut-outs on a puppet's stage,
black silhouettes of trees break up the Fen,
companions, my deep solitude assuaged.
A circling buzzard ends his last foray,
for him the next meal cannot come too soon,
the evening takes it's leave and says good-day,
lopsided smile upon Lincolnshire moon.
Now turning a full circle, one last gaze
with hope in such peace I can end my days.
Categories:
harriers, nature,
Form: Sonnet
The moon in struggle
As it breaks through the red
The sky is dying
The earth in dread
The three sisters
On a mound of decay
Stand proud of their moment
Civilisation, fading to grey
Sceptre and scents
Sword of the fallen
Spreading their angst
Like a darken pollen
Heads slightly bowed
Their way of glee
Killing and maiming
Deathly spree
Federation of the stars
In need to meet
To rid earths quadrant
This trio to defeat
Ale-era the Apocalypse
Kristy Krull
Illyanna their leader
Void to null
A regiment of troopers
Will assemble soon
From the Jungles of Jupiter
To encamp on the moon
Droids and Trojan
Federation scouts and carriers
Will warp ahead
In battle ready Harriers
Part one of two, Part two being: The Return of Earth to the Devout.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy4.php
Categories:
harriers, angst, death, fantasy, life,
Form: Rhyme