My hands will glow,
rising higher, ebbing
and flowing
with the gold-glass sea.
Herald of angels in our midst
as we kiss the feet of Christ.
For the earth is His hassock.
My soles will rejoice
as they crush
sweet-scented petals.
Invisible to the naked
eye. Good news spreads fast.
A whirlwind of death to life.
My arms will reach
the pinnacles of
pearly gates. There’s healing
in each touch, a cure
to empathize with hurts,
not lording over, but
holding on, catching
each tear.
There is profundity
in togetherness,
in what we share.
Strength of mine
delivered to the weak
and the next time
I am the weak.
Categories:
hassock, christian,
Form: Free verse
Dust motes dancing through glancing light,
refracted through stained glass windows, bright.
The smell of old pine and communion wine lingers,
wax polish and roses from grieving widows fingers.
A faint smell of incense, intense in it's nuance,
old hymn books weave their soporific fluence.
The imposing lectern, Gothic and glowering,
the Nave and Transepts, jaw dropping, towering.
The silence echoes in reverent tones,
so as not to disturb the pious bones
interred in alcoves and beneath stones
inscribed with the names of the chosen ones.
Hassock and cassock, pew, aisle and choir,
childish imaginings of brimstone and fire.
Quiet reflections in an old country church
then out to dappled sunlight through Yew, Oak and Birch.
Categories:
hassock, imagery,
Form: Rhyme
Bumblebee stumbled like a drunk
crossing dry leaf ground
and made for overhanging plant
where sun patch had been found.
Climbing flower like mountain face
bee reached his summit peak,
there paused to take the warming rays,
feet combing head and cheek.
Bee seeing near three petaled flowers
dipped in them one by one.
Revived and fueled with warmth and food
he flew towards the sun.
That morning willed my body sore
towards the edge of bed.
I slowly lowered feet to floor,
thoughts ordered in my head.
With kneeling hassock to both knees,
and seeking daily bread,
I made my morning's prayerful pleas
with word devotions read.
Then standing ready for this day
with heart and mind now one,
my body rises, filled this way,
to glorify of the Son.
Categories:
hassock, christian, devotion, nature,
Form: Rhyme
This is a pickle so I'll bear-and-grin it
It's my very own pickle got me IN it
It was always sweet with pickle power
But all these wrappings make it sour
Perhaps you'll get the urge to peel it
For dressed like this I'll never feel it
Despite your valiant efforts twerkin'
I'll still be left with a gimpy Gherkin
Another tumble upon your hassock
Is a fruitless fruit not worth a Vlasic
For a pickle in a poncho is under par
And it's far better off in a canning jar
Cuz ...
It's not the pick of pickle, it's in how you aptly pack it
But I can't pack my pickle ... in a damned latex jacket.
~ 7th Place ~ in the "Pickle" Poetry Contest, Nina Parmenter, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
hassock, fun, humorous, passion, word
Form: Rhyme
What on her disgruntle to sidetrack my dear love-
When by all means all hers are the mainspring of my joy?
Her face; yea, hers, is the mellow effulgence of moon
That sweeps away malaise out of my face
Her smiles are the wellspring of my joy
That deluge me with utter merriment
Her voice is the musical warble of my day
That hum me melodies of comfort and solace
Now all her cascading tears; give them to me
They are the quencher I slurp for my emotional aridity
O ours is the entiwed souls tried-and-true
For all she gives I atone equally
Good and bad we stick like a cockle burr in a sheep's coat
In her galling dejection--when she is as weak as a clay pigeon,
My arms I stretch for her bulwark
And I relieve seeing her guffaw like a first swimmer duckling
Who lay her hassock when she topples?
Or where else on earth is the assuagement to her throes?
Categories:
hassock, girlfriend, love, true love,
Form: Free verse
In our neighborhood, moved a hermetic man named Nit who was gross, unseemly, and unbearable,
The neighbors sent me to see if I could muster up something about him that was care-able.
I sat down on his blue flowered chair-able putting my feet on his hassock, which was quite terrible.
After getting to know him, I suggested a shower, a shave, and a chin that was less hair-able.
Then I helped him select some clean clothes that were handy, free, and quite wearable.
I paraded him down the sidewalk to speak with the neighbors, in particular, a woman named Arable.
They were both 29, never married, loved kittens, and began to think of each other as Marr-able.
They now have two unkempt children, and seventy-four unspayed kittens which makes the neighborhood terrible.
Categories:
hassock, 4th grade, 5th grade,
Form: Monorhyme
there's magic
in dogs of summer,
unbridled love
of every odor,
snapping greedily
at buzzing flies,
running amok
in sweet grass and sky,
eyebright,
they call the world
to play rough games
over and over again,
you're their
sun and stars,
gone for a minute,
away for a day,
every second counts
in their desperate
yet comical
loneliness,
how can a tail
wag the whole dog?
how can that
impossible tongue
sit in that godawful breath?
perching like penguins
on the hassock or chair,
blocking the telly,
Hey, You! I'm here!
but the cosmic joke,
punchline yet to be told,
is that their lifelines
aren't made to match ours,
flaring like wooden matches,
burned down to the quick,
is it to ensure that our lives
are filled with love renewed,
gifted the second chance,
to take advantage of time,
with the ultimate friend?
if we all knew that our lives
were measured in years of a dog,
would our noses lead us to love more
and would we consider heaven the sod?
Categories:
hassock, devotion,
Form: Prose Poetry
I blow the feathery brown corpse
of a moth gently off the window sill
misting gray rain outside adds to
the pallor of the moment
I think to myself - everything is
dying around me
and my life too ebbing with
each ancient breath
despite this revelation... I know
there is a forever part to us
I sense it in the still, deathlike
suspension of my meditation
my body an empty temple
one pointed cathedral steeples
pyramid to infinity
I kneel on the hassock within
reposing in the splendor of a Presence
undefinable, a hush of love
ushers over me
tears pour from
stained glass eyes
that unmistakable kiss
sustained caress
blessed assurance
Categories:
hassock, change, freedom, peace, trust,
Form: Free verse
Night after night,
the hassock in my room,
the only safe haven
against the bale anguish of times
reminding me of happiness gone by...
Worn from kneeling,
furrowed from wepping and sighing,
the purple velvet still carries traces
of time impressed with the Lord´s prayers...
Above, a crucifix in the wrath of God
reminds me of my insignificance...
My feeble and quiverving hands
are joined together,
convulsively around a rosary,
Hopelessly rising towards Thee
begging your -
Miserere, Domine!
Categories:
hassock, dark, devotion, faith, god,
Form: Lyric