STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
two strangers in the night met
no names were exchanged
no histories were unveiled,
only shared glances
wind sighed through gaunt tree branches
in each other’s eyes
a shared moment, communion
of sacred journeys
Categories:
hermits, 12th grade, solitude, spiritual,
Form: Other
HERMIT’S FIRE IN THE FROZEN MEDIEVAL FOREST
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The wind, a teeth-chattering dirge
through skeletal branches,
finds no purchase on the small flame.
He built it low, a secret
whispered to the snow-laden earth,
a defiant ember in the kingdom of ice.
Years bleed into seasons here,
marked only by the shrinking woodpile,
the lengthening beard, the deepening lines
etched by firelight and solitude.
He remembers faces,
ghosts flickering in the flames,
loves lost, battles fought,
a life traded for this quiet burn.
The forest breathes around him,
a vast, indifferent lung.
He is a mote, a spark,
yet the fire persists,
a stubborn refusal to surrender
to the long, cold night.
And perhaps, he thinks,
as the embers glow,
that is enough.
Just to burn.
Just to be.
Categories:
hermits, 12th grade, spiritual,
Form: Free verse
(7 word poem).
Netspeak--social or not?
Hermits suspect plot!
Categories:
hermits, anxiety, conflict, confusion, humor,
Form: Rhyme
I am windy the great I am
Windy the great I am, I am
to be buried in the toilet next door
I got out and gassed every nose next door
And everyone was a Cindy (Cindy)
They never brought home a Billy or a ham (or a ham)
From their neighbor’s can I am Windy
Windy the great I am I am
Second verse same as the first.
I am windy the great I am
Windy the great I am, I am
I got buried in the toilet next door
I got out and gassed every nose next door
And everyone was a Cindy (Cindy)
They never brought home a Billy or a ham (or a ham)
From their neighbor’s can I am Windy
Windy the great I am I am
(shouts)
(guitar solo)
I am windy the great I am
Windy the great I am, I am
I got buried in the toilet next door
I got out and gassed every nose next door
And everyone was a Cindy (Cindy)
They never brought home a Billy or a ham (or a ham)
From their neighbor’s can I am Windy
Windy the great I am I am
W I N D Y
Windy (Windy) Windy (Windy)
Windy the Great I am I am
Windy the Great I am!
Categories:
hermits, humor, humorous, music, nostalgia,
Form: Ballad
I’m Henry the Eighth I am
Henry the Eighth I am I am!
I remember singing this
At the top of my lungs
at church camp when I was twelve
Thank you Herman’s Hermits
My camp mate, Clarisse had introduced me
To Peter Noone, and the other Hermits.
Herman’s Hermits they called themselves
I had no idea how I survived without
knowing about them
When I hear “Tell me Baby,
Mrs. Brown you have a lovely daughter,
Dream on,” and “Listen people”
I begin to drive a bit faster,
Turning back into the teenager I used to be.
I’m Henry the Eighth I am,
Henry the Eighth, I am, I am…..
Singing this immediately changes me
back into a preteenager, and makes me smile.
Categories:
hermits, music,
Form: Free verse
in a far off place
gone from all known accepted civilization
lived a man caught in his own world
had a hut with green moss
In the evening he prepared a table with a goose & port
was a hunter and gatherer to the outdoors
captured his imaginative thoughts on a scroll
day and night he would often pray to God
alone in his silence he had a quaint encounter with a visitation
an angel appeared at the edge of his bed
thoughts were swirling inside his head
the angel said, "God has heard your prayers".
one word from his lips and his world turned around
left to his own devises he would fail
yet with the help of God he would set sail
the hermit decided to go into town
to see if there were others like him around
there is a barren hill lived a nice lady named lily
she was nice but awfully silly
fir it was there he had made his match
was yhis to much to ask
the pair fell deeply in love together
the hermits' request was answered
They lived happily ever after
Categories:
hermits, anxiety, art, autumn, baby,
Form: Free verse
Shadows danced in the hermits cave
from the tiny light his candle gave,
he washed his face, but did not shave.
All his life he was a knave,
his Bible said, the souls a slave.
So, he left all the things to crave,
redeemed by God, but can't behave.
Covered by God, Hells fire to stave.
Pacing in prayer, saints paths to pave,
blowing out the candle, a stub he'll save.
Categories:
hermits, faith,
Form: Monorhyme