Submitted for the alliterisen poem contest hosted by
Joseph May
Hurting hearts need tender touches
Sweet whispered words and compassionate care
Patient pauses loving looks
Devoted dressings with gentle jests
Helpful hands for broke bones
From morning's mist to night's nesting
Woundings wane as loving lingers
Looking at my candle in the castle
Wondering the reasons of my hassle
Falling in love with my King in spring
What a foolish thing that stings !
My King, already promised to his queen
Oh, I wish that by you, I’ll be seen
But I’m only a naive yearning jester
I’ll never be gracious and wise like her
The rejection, sadly, is so foreseen
If one day I declare my love for you
Will you know that what I’m telling is true ?
Or will you think it’s another one of my jests ?
Will you be able to digest my loving interest ?
Blowing out my candle
Deciding not to cause an embarrassing scandal
I’ll never tell my love for my dear King
But what we could’ve been will forever be missing
centred in chest
God’s light tests us
He jests we smile
Even as earth life jests,
in love’s nest our soul rests.
Jesus; he is Christ and he’s what Christmas is about
Jests and silly little jokes, some atheists will tout
Tests on shrouds would later prove a little inconclusive.
Tents would be too public for an imminent exclusive
Rents agreed for stabling when the virgin birth was due
Rants from Joseph, “Who’s this man who laid his hands on you?”
Mants inflict the Scot as statue’s eyes in blood do run
Manta rays glide ’neath the waves, where all life had begun
Santa, flies the skies above till Christmas Eve is done
[Mants = Stammers (primarily Scots)]
Unpredictable and volatile--
morose and quiet one moment,
laughing heartily just after a while
at whatever excited his mirth,
his high thin loud laugh strange
from a person with a grave mien.
He would often be in deep thought,
as if engaged in contemplation
of a philosophical question.
You’d think he is not given to humor,
but know him well and you’ll divine
he is not averse to jests even at his expense.
You would view it with some misgiving
he delights in fairy tales, children’s books, toys,
movies with superheroes or fantasy themes,
colors, flowers, and childish games.
But perhaps you would forgive him
for through circumstances not of his doing
childhood had somehow skipped him.
November 15, 2024
Together, two can become one
When they have differences none.
They certainly can have all the fun
That you can find under the sun.
Shunning fully their false pride
In each other’s heart they reside.
Forgetting the surroundings beside
They jointly go on a joyous ride.
Though they live in small nests
They like to be each other’s guests.
With love, attesting the other’s jests
They get through all litmus tests.
Picture: 2
Life tests us again and again,
until wisdom’s ingrained
and our darkened heart cleansed from stain,
that our soul be unchained.
Know that God dwells inside,
so blushing like a bride,
please enjoy life’s joy ride.
God jests ~
Life tests
His miser boss
Went out for a toss
When the MD knocked his door.
He plummeted down
To save his crown
When his senior asked for more.
His hair had grown
on his chest
On his back as well down south.
Where nested in peace
There hung two bees
His tongue got stuck in his mouth.
The doc came up
Once or twice
To run his regular tests.
His BP down,
His wife in town
He lost his killer jests.
He crossed himself
and prayed to God
His taste for wine was lost.
The honey bees
made merry cheer,
His company bore his cost.
Then one fine day
they stopped his pay,
No wife no son no home.
He saw a man
without a shawl,
All hurled and curled in snow.
With nothing to lose,
the bees long gone.
He poured his drink once more.
The only coat,
he gave in zest
To the man and settled his score.
A dream of dreams, then quickly vanished.
A dragon stitched through billowing clouds,
A fold-up wooded paper kingdom appeared.
I slowly sat up in my bed, right on my footboard it gripped.
The rest of my room disappeared into a fog.
A green-gold scales beast raised its stare.
Calm expression, like he was reading my muddy bog
Thoughts. Overwhelmed, speak, I did not dare.
I'd like to take you to a spectacular place.
He crossed his arms across his chest.
He whirled around a scarf appeared across his face.
Then, twisted his lips, hum, knightly jests.
I scratched my head and shrugged my shoulders,
and thought very nervously. Can I trust this beast?
For a moment, I wondered, but who is his holder?
Anxiously, I merely followed this beast.
A dream of dreams I woke to a knock at my bedroom door.
Afraid, carefully I pulled the loose covers off my head.
Pouring emotions of joy, the wooded paper kingdom was no more.
Mom slowly opens the door. “You’re going to be late for school,” she said.
In twilight's grasp, the world meets its demise,
Oh, Christian soul, who claims the sacred name,
Within God's church, where fervent spirits rise,
Contemplate now, the end, a burning flame.
What if it was the end, the final call,
Would jests and levity your stance define?
Regret, a haunting echo, would enthrall,
As time, a gift, was squandered, not divine.
The freedom granted in the fleeting hours,
Yet, dedicated not to Heaven's plea,
The call to be a savior in your bowers,
Neglected, as a futile, vain decree.
Oh, heed this warning, ears that bear the weight,
Prepare thy soul, for God's impending fate.
What if it was the end, a solemn plea,
To face the judgment of eternity
What will you say?
Lifetimes of feeling,
In only a blurred moment,
Marked my obsession.
Every blissful dream
Romanticizes passions,
Even beyond death.
Nor can Cupid’s jests
Conquer my sole devotion.
Eros shall envy…
in darkness of the night
our auric field manifests
we are startled and apprehensive
the universe jests and tests
the happenstance was fortunate
coming as a wake up call
roots of conditioning go in deep
who we are, we oft fail to recall
those who hope
we will conspire
with wrong doing
they do trust us
but we must deny
as gently as able
that negative karma
may not so accrue
for they know not
what we do
sometimes we may cause
hearts to be estranged
not ours but theirs
but no matter
life tests and jests
within this lucid dream
LIGHT VERSE AND NONSENSE VERSE IX
Disconcerted
by Michael R. Burch
Meg, my sweet,
fresh as a daisy,
when I’m with you
my heart beats like crazy
& my future gets hazy ...
The Less-Than-Divine Results of My Prayers to be Saved from Televangelists
by Michael R. Burch
I’m old,
no longer bold,
just cold,
and (truth be told),
been bought and sold,
rolled
by the wolves and the lambs in the fold.
Who’s to be told
by this worn-out scold?
The complaint department is always on hold.
Alas, Sir Munchalot!
by Michael R. Burch
You ate too much,
your common lot;
you munched too much,
so now you’ve got
a gut.
Hadrian’s Elegy
by Michael R. Burch
My delicate soul,
now aimlessly fluttering ... drifting ... unwhole,
former consort of my failing corpse ...
Where are we going—from bad to worse?
From jail to a hearse?
Where do we wander now—fraught, pale and frail?
To hell?
To some place devoid of jests, mirth, happiness?
Is the joke on us?
Keywords/Tags: heart, humor, humorous, irony, light, light verse, nonsense, joke, truth, future, soul
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