David had two wives, and I have none
Was he truly never in need and not of wants
Oh, how is this not a comical pun
Just to say that he was full of need and wants
Did YWHW give him, or did he earn?
Did he have a Shepard or a servant?
I feel that the imperfected get to have their desires burn?
It seems like he had a servant
What is life but a quest for a wife
All I see is a constant green pasture of broken promises
What is a wife but a quest for a positive life
Imperfection is awarded while perfection is with broken promises
The shadow of death weaps for me as it sees the world through my eyes
Oh how they cry when the time flies!
Categories:
imperfected, absence, depression, emotions,
Form: Sonnet
The death of me - unsure when that will be.
I need to live without dark thoughts at night.
To trip the wire, and close the blinds sans sight,
and wing my soul into eternal spree…
The day “I died,” it’s surely sad - not I.
I do behold the eyes of Christ - his, mine.
I hear the angels’ bliss in praise divine.
Elsewhere, with teardrop-kiss, kin bid goodbye.
I’m satisfied in imperfected steps.
I’ve stepped into abode, where all’s made right.
I greet departed folk - I’m on a high.
My kids cannot pursue this flight of steps.
It is their time to live, not die - to fight.
At great divide - we all peruse blue sky.
4/16/2023
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Envelope Sonnet
abbacddcefgefg iambic pentameter
Categories:
imperfected, christian, death,
Form: Sonnet
in the story's beginning,
there's comfort, there's love,
bright smiles, bright eyes,
mother's mantel above,
with new looking awe,
small noises, small hands,
shining faces on porch swings,
bedtime fantasy lands,
as time turns and grows older
young faces turn to judge,
sire's guidance rejected,
bold attitudes won't budge,
punching holes into heaven,
burning fires, plasma veined,
rocket contrails of youth,
spun out in fast lanes,
sometimes they forgive,
these lives imperfected,
years burning slow fuses,
calming storm course
corrected,
now, in far off country's pure
air,
light bound in wonder now
waking,
looking back at those faces,
no finer journey worth taking...
Categories:
imperfected, parents
Form: Rhyme