High winds have come to a land remote and wild.
Oak leaves tremble in the black of night
While critters to the underbrush for the present are exiled.
Like a giant thrashing fiend, wind roars with all its might,
Increasing in intensity as if something got it very riled.
Not many birds will still remain where there is great height.
Gone into thick shrubbery, they’ll hide away tonight.
Wolves huddle together, for they are clever.
Into their dens they go or seek shelter in other spots they find,
Lest things worsen, however,
Dogs of the wild won’t leave any of their pack behind.
Emitting long howls, they communicate.
Rolling thunder proves the whipping wind is more than scowling.
Not too soon will the wailing tempest’s tantrum abate.
Every wolf joins the wind in prolonged persistent howling.
Since the fierce fiend has now begun screeching like a banshee,
Scintillating stars tonight the wilderness won’t likely see.
One foot in front of the other,
Listening to the Mother.
Rumbling and tumbling,
Through the water.
And thought about,
The path it sought.
Since it began,
A trickle in the sand.
A puddle on the land,
S?ince time began.
Winding and Flowing,
Finding its way.
Eroding and growing,
Never knowing,
Where it's going.
Bestowing life,
T?o all along the way.
A path now showing,
It'll never sway,
Stays the course.
Patiently waiting,
Building up force.
A persistent existence,
Going the distance.
The path of least resistance,
Can change in an instant.
Is life any different?
Unstoppable,
Flowing freely.
Controllable,
Packaged neatly.
Who will you be?
Contained, trained,
Refrained from its domain.
Or connect together,
Let our river of life,
F?low on forever.
Mince Pies for sharing, I’m sure you’ll agree
Evergreen festive lights are a-glowing
Repeats aplenty, our Christmas TV
Recycling bins are all overflowing
Your decorations will brighten the door
Come on let’s celebrate, we’ll both say cheers
Have one more bottle? Go on if you’re sure
Reflective and maudlin’, that’s me drinking beers
Ikea candles, will lighten the way
Silent Night, Christmas Eve, here at long last
Tomorrow the grandkids, their special day
Memories, of people and places past
Angelic voices, won’t let me feel sad
Somehow it’s magic, Feliz Navidad!
America's bulwark, strong and true,
Resolved to defend, the red, white, and blue.
Mighty warriors, brave and bold,
Years of service, stories paroled.
Since '75, a nation's might,
On fields of battle, day and night.
Loyalty and honor, their guiding star,
Defending freedom, near and far.
In every conflict, they stand tall,
Embracing duty, answering freedom's call.
Ready to fight, for liberty's flame,
Sacrifice and courage, their noble name.
All through history, their valor known,
Rising to challenges, never alone.
Modern heroes, with hearts of steel,
Yearning to shield, the public's zeal.
Onward they march, with purpose and pride,
Fighting for justice, on every tide.
The Army's strength, a powerful force,
Heroes among us, taking their course.
Every soldier, a testament to might,
Unity and valor, shining bright.
Serving with honor, a legacy grand,
All across the land, a helping hand.
Sun’s rays have weakened lately. Cool winds blow,
Effectively allaying summer heat.
Perhaps fall lovers should be patient, though.
There’ll be more hot days. Summer’s not complete.
Enthusiasm reigns on Labor Day.
Most backyard chefs are firing up the grills.
Because it’s summer’s “last hurrah,” some say,
Each fan of hot days relishes these thrills.
Responses to the end of summer range
From great elation to a sense of pall.
Autumnal coolness, each expected change,
Leaves turning red and gold~~I love it all!
Let every season reap admirers’ praise,
Since each possesses unique winning ways.
“Strong and silent” well defines a stoic person.
They try not to let things take them by surprise.
Owning their fate, they endure without complaint.
In fact, they don’t fear death, and tears seldom wet their eyes.
Calm are they in chaos. Also, they live in the “now.”
It’s their habit to listen more than speak, and they don’t just talk. They DO.
Since possessions matter little, they focus on the higher good.
Mere mortals they are not! Only in some ways am I stoic. How about you?
A faraway place
Frequently forgotten
Given to much social unrest
Hardly known, never understood
And
Never completely tamed
In spite of decades of turmoil
Since overrun by power-hungry
Taliban
And
Never likely to be civilized
M- oment by moment the hours tick by.
I- n each one I wonder and ask myself why,
S- ince you have left me I feel so alone,
S- o utterly empty when I should have known,
I-nviting you into my heart wasn't wise,
N- ot when I knew you had other ties.
G- one now the laughter and warm summer days.
Y- ou took them all with you not wanting to stay.
O- nly you could get under my skin like you did.
U- ntil you came along I was just a big kid.
T- hen I met you and everything changed,
E- xcept for the fact that you were estranged,
R- ecently leaving a home and a wife,
R- vealing to me you still wanted that life,
I- n all that you said and all that you did;
B- ut I wanted you so I put in my bid.
L- ike a fool I gambled my all and I lost.
Y- ou were honest with me and well worth the cost.
God allowed us to invent them: chess, mancala, Ludo, CC-saga;
And Candy Crunch Saga claims to be played everywhere
Methinks "On all seven continents, including Antartica."
Earlier I wrote about Candy Crunch, got to Level 300. No caveat emptor
Since I am not an employee, nor am I advertising for CC-saga
H ere I am about to play Level 1291
Ooh a blast, blasting candies of every color, just by swipes -
With all games, there will be strategy, real wins, anger and angst
(
Live and learn; that is what all humans do.
Illumination of the mind may not
Flow quite as much as we would like it to.
Enlightenment forever man has sought.
Some things, however, we can’t know for sure.
Man searches for the truth of what things mean,
Yet often he is met by some detour
Since certain things man simply cannot glean,
The “ALL” of which are called life’s mysteries.
Evolving, man has solved things that were once
Riddles, but solved, these riddles gave life ease.
In otherwordly things, man is a dunce.
Elves, UFO’s, or where (on death) we go -
Such things folks claim are true we crave to KNOW!
Dec. 12, 2020 for John Hamilton's Lifes Myteries Poetry Contest:
Hybrid sonnet in acrostic form
Rhyme scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
10 or 12 syllables per line
Ince St. Child
by Michael R. Burch
When she was a child
in a dark forest of fear,
imagination cast its strange light
into secret places,
scattering traces
of illumination so bright,
years later, she could still find them there,
their light undefiled.
When she was young,
the shafted light of her dreams
shone on her uplifted face
as she prayed . . .
though she strayed
into a night fallen like woven lace
shrouding the forest of screams,
her faith led her home.
Now she is old
and the light that was flame
is a slow-dying ember . . .
what she felt then
she would explain;
she would if she could only remember
that forest of shame,
faith beaten like gold.
This was an unusual poem, written in my youth, and it took me some time to figure out who the old woman was. She was a victim of childhood incest, hence the title I eventually came up with. Keywords/Tags: Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Pedophilia, Depravity, Betrayal, Shame, Humiliation, Evil, Family, Innocence, Childhood, Girl, Memory, Memories, Repressed Memories, PTSD, Shock, Shell Shock
S-ince you were a child,
A-lmighty God did send
L-ove and care to your life
I-n His mercy without
E-nd.
F-rom your mom's womb,
E-ternal God had given you
R-ight elements of a human,
R-ight before His own view.
E-arly June twenty-second, you were born in the world so wild;
R-ight path was shown to you, since you were a child.
I-t's
M-e
I-ntensely
S-eeking
S-ince
Y-ou're
O-ff
U-ndertaking
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Alas my rose
Stole my youth years
I love the hands were
Happened to me does not smell roses
Alas Alas rose my rose
I do not know my carpet what happens when
I've been nomadic cranes
I had ants on the road
I remember one dear
Alas Alas rose rose
Did not hurt me cruel...
Weird strange world
I got called in Konya
Shabby wrote my tag
Oh, my dear rose rose
Was not keep my hands, slice..
Ince waist, did not hold
friend not formed into the hands of
I do not get Muradiye
Rose Alas, alas rose
My arm was broken wings..
sabit ince Kayseri 05/10/2012
What place not home do I love most of all?
As soon as weekends come, I have to go
To this place! Usually, it’s at the mall.
Can you guess where I go? It’s to the show!
How eagerly I wait for Friday when
I get to see the latest films. What bliss!
New movies come; I bring some treats, and then,
Good times! For all my life I have done this.
My movie habit started in my youth.
On tv then, there was not much, so I
Viewed movies every chance I got. The truth
Is I could watch them all day long, and my
Escape into them has been happening
Since Spartacus first made my spirit sing!
An Acrostic in sonnet form/ Written Jan. 31, 2019
For Bobby May's Word Play Contest
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