Written: June 26, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Constance La France
Poetry Quote:"‘I am your friend, at this hour you
needed me, here is my hand, I hold out to you
With my undying friendship, I offer you sanctuary.’" By Harry Horsman
The moonlight darkens, silver stain.
“Nature’s Worst” is around the rain.
Mist remembers your “Thwarted” breath.
Gentle melodies of love and death.
The blue sky of “Woopa Bank” makes you sing.
Grey haze curls and clings to the wing.
Passion is thinning. But it did not die.
Your words still drift up in the sky.
Wild gusts blew, and the canvas ripped.
“Season’s End” left souls stripped.
But in the storm, I heard your voice.
A truth pulse through anguish choice.
You predicted the century's snare,
"Century-Twenty Two", the world never cares.
And yet, your lines resisted decay.
They lit the dark, they warned the way.
"Living To Die" in the "Cemetery" near,
Could not silence what we hear.
Your scrolls of praise, your final tone,
Allow us to feel less alone.
"Harry Horsman", poet, heart of mist,
Your "Metamorphosis" requiem persists.
horizontal hue
viewed thwarted seasons
so move springs being
~
autumns dance new fall
bleak blacken darken crevice
falls autumn calling
~
early elements moon dance
it glows suns sleeps rest in west
seasonal feast woes
~
switching from fallen
leaves to opec frozen snow
pearl sparkle dew drops
~
winter wonderland
feelings shines hot golden time
summer voice heated
~
early elements moon chance
it glows suns sleeps rest in west
seasonal feast woes
~
thwarted elements
moon sun glows shines feelings dawn
reasons seasons dawns
8/6/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
Farewell seems so final,
like death.
How does one say~goodbye,
not easy for family and friends.
A writer will always be a writer,
you were outstanding.
Your comments were always encouraging,
you knew just what to say.
Blood did not run through your veins,
for it was ink.
As you got older,
you only got better at writing.
Saying goodbye is hard,
so I will not say goodbye.
Heaven now has another writer,
so until we all meet up in heaven keep writing.
A wonderful poet, Harry Horsman,
His words are like music; he is a true artisan.
I'm thrilled to read his work each day.
To get comments and POTD, I pray.
As I look through his poems so fine,
I see his heart and soul in every line.
His words are deep, profound, and wise.
And they touch my heart and open my eyes.
He writes of love, hope, and pain.
Of life's struggles and its sweet refrain.
His poetry inspires me to be better.
To live each day with purpose and fervor.
Thank you, Harry, for sharing your gift.
For lifting our spirits and our souls to uplift.
Your poetry is a treasure to behold.
A testament to the power of words so bold
Shades are the glory of your birth and state.
Death hits kings; there is no refuge from fate.
You are a true poet, a master of your craft.
And your legacy will forever last.
Written: June 5, 2023
Tributes To Harry Horsman: An Uncontest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
“primrose coloured sky
grey clouds chase the setting sun…
rain kisses scorched earth”
by Harry Horsman
A beautiful haiku by Harry. I think one
of Harry's last, "Woopa Bank,” shows
his caring for nature. And, I read
one recently about the kindness of the
the gravedigger, who is the last one with
the deceased. Harry told me he was a
gravedigger when he was young. That
was Harry—gentle with the soil that
covered the grave.
Dear Harry, we will miss you so much
and long for your lovely poetic touch.
You made simple things in life more real
Your graciousness in your poems we feel
...Goodnight, gentle soul
The last poem Harry Horsman wrote,
posted at PS is worthy of taking note.
The Haiku held my attention, greatly impressed
by its unique title and the sentiment expressed.
I write this to articulate my modest tribute,
now that the eloquent poet has become mute.
His poem “Thwarted” reads as follows,
in his PS page as listed shows.
clement moons lose glow...
sun rises dries dewy tears
heart of mist broken © Harry J Horsman 2023.
The poem earned the well-deserved POTD
with its subtle and magnificent imagery.
The elegant use of words for the poem to fill,
displays his creative penman’s excellent skill.
The moving emotions touch and deftly flow,
personified with the metaphoric innuendo.
Like many poets you’ve also gone away,
dear Harry, rest in eternal peace, I pray.
__________
May 28, 2023
Contest : Tributes To Harry Horsman : An Uncontest
Sponsored by : Andrea Dietrich
Harry Horsman, most beloved poet, shining star of PoetrySoup
A kind, gentle, compassionate, loving soul,
Rare mixture of humour, fun, strength and power,
Rest assured of his precious advice and support,
Your friend, Harry’s generosity, you could count on!
How inspiring were his uplifting comments,
Of our dear Harry from charming Australia,
Reading his poems is an amazing experience,
Spiritual, Faith, passionate Love, or mysterious Nature
Memories of sweet childhood, intoxicated youth, or doting family!
Absolute joy, Harry, to write about you,
No one can replace your legacy of kindness and creative expression!
May 27, 2023
Tributes To Harry Horsman - An Uncontest Poetry contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Master Poet - This has been how I have been addressing,
Harry Horsman - who has been, to the verse world, a blessing;
Depth, decorum, delightfulness, and dovish dynamism,
Shines and reflects on his personality like a prism...!
‘A Voice In The Wilderness’, ‘Phobia’, ‘The Old Oak Tree’,
‘Rainbow Ride’, ‘Eyes’, ‘Scars Left Behind’, and ‘You May Not Agree’...
Horsman's works have, images and imageries in plenty,
Figures of speech of all kinds, in him, are cognoscenti...!
In 'An Agendaless Age', or 'In So Many Ways’,
His genuineness, like the summer sun, does always blaze;
In 'Jesus Christ' he sings delightfully of the savior,
In his love for the poor, 'The Gravedigger' finds favor...!
'Death Is Not The End’ - he said, I do not think death has won,
In snatching him off from this world, no great work he has done;
Horsman dwells in the blissful presence of angels and saints,
Physically and psychically, he’s free of constraints...!!!
27 May 2023
Tributes to Harry Horsman: An Uncontest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
The old oak tree.
So happy I wrote: Lovely!
“Let us hear the bluebell call,
the daffodil pray,
the apple blossom bear witness.”
I hip hip hurrah’d this paradigmatic poem.
I read it a few minutes ago and thought aww…
how do I comment now, so Harry will see.
So glad I had read this in the past,
before our dear Harry passed. Suddenly,
I hear one solitary and full-fledged chirp outside.
Has Harry stopped by?
Dabbing an eye.
To honor Harry memory
a much loved and respected poet
He could cast a spell with his clear verse
identifying himself with any sonnet
with first class reviews
No shortage of inspiration
He put into words what most of us can only feel
On the towpath ... between memories and the sea
sand slips out between the fingers
Harry kept his dream alive
(watch, train journeys via You Tube)
a desire to experience Norway by train
pass vast agricultural landscapes
through a rich selection of nature experiences
Sparkling blue rivers and gushing waterfalls
Winding mountain roads, fjords and valleys
Churches from the 17th century
Humble aging farms in places
one would have thinking that no one could live
_____ one day we'll drive this journey together
... you and me ... Harry
R.I.P.
24.05.2023
Anne-Lise Andresen
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Tributes to Harry Horsman
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
1st place in the contest
The Winds of change have come again.
To think we've lost another friend.
It grieves my heart, you left so soon.
I read your blog this afternoon.
A better place you've journeyed to.
God Speed Harry, thinking of You.
Dedication to Harry Horsman.
My condolences to his family.
Also want to thank Mandy a
True friend of Harry's for
informing us...
Michael Tor
Dedication is to my Friends who avoid judging:
You are not the judge
But judge you must
For earthly matters and such
Leave hell to satan or demons
But Heaven in fragrances of your words:
Epitaph, apology, poetry, piety, congrats - -
Even angels fall, why not us (Adamic) mortals -
When pride and ego explode in ungodly challenge!
NoTE:
Between writing, editing, posting this simple offering ... the good & bad in Me & of South Africa today, asserted themselves: our electricity brownouts & blackouts affect internet, editing, posting, and consistent connection. My one service provider, MTN, has been back today for a few hours now (after more than a weak of zero internet connectivity). You pay a price: seeing many versions of this JUDGEMENT poem. Shalom
R recently, power outages takes us BACK - ward
E ven reading & commenting here is rare
A naya & Harry Horsman, Brian Sambourne, Lisa
D
Do remind me how comments feed poets' souls
P.S. This is a thank you poem to those who read and comment to encourage me. REQUEST: Please comment especially on poets who have few readers or fewer comments, or may be new. I encouraged a new PS Poet from Andorra last week, but I did not understand the poem or language (Celtic?). I don't expect any response, but I'm glad we have poets from so many unusual places with talent & Ubuntu. Deo
PPS. I could not fix errors in my post, or edit ( until now), because our power supply in my province in RSA,vwas disrupted ( by supplier ESKOM) for 6 hours: Stage 6 loadshedding. FYI or shock, Google, "RSA: electricity, Eskom, corruption, death threats." See?
A Little Prayer I send to you.
To give you Hope and get you through.
As you are facing your darkest Hour.
I pray for God's Healing Power.
I'm trusting God to give you strength.
To bring to you, your Health Again.
Have Strong Faith, while in this Storm.
Christ healing Grace, will find you home.
You're in Our Hearts so far away,
Thinking of You, on this Special Day.
While people are carrying on with their Lives.
You're in the Hospital Fighting for Your Life.
Hang in there Harry with All Your Might.
You're in a War, but you'll Win This Fight.
You have always been a Loyal Friend.
We miss you Harry, Our Love We Send.
Michael Tor
Please pray for Harry.
If humans make smarter phones, we are Slaves to whom?
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