The Golden Hour
They waited for golden hour with glee,
And some people with gloom.
Juveniles were excited for the first,
minds already drifting elsewhere.
The streets filled with gentle migration-
someone rushing towards their loved ones
And some grudging to solitude.
Yet the night didn't ask who carried joy
And who carried quiet heart.
Cafe blooms with chatters,
while dim room cradle the sound of silence.
The night opens its arm to everyone-
the tired, the eager, the heart broken, the hopeful,
yet each walks into it alone
searching for what the week didn't give.
Time is quintessential of those changes,
Yet none gave thought to it.
They were busy in the life hustle,
well immersed in the endless bustle.
Time moved with silent patience
Unnoticed, yet immense.
sweet boy asleep in the field….his murderers
juveniles of hatred
god grieves everywhere they are….death
lingers tears of justice doesn’t fade
Jesus, the incarnate, told parables to his people.
Like the poets, figurative language, he cleverly used.
Pharisees and Sadducees showed as though they were legal.
At the law of love of Jesus, yet, like Gnus, they're confused.
Were Pharisees and Sadducees like children in the street?
They weren't simple, immaculate, sensitive, and thoughtful.
In them, hatred for the counsel of God had been complete.
They were arrogant, aggressive, cowardly, and spiteful.
They were pipers, who wished the poor to dance to their tunes.
They wished the lowly to live like mourners at funerals.
Theologies and philosophies, they thought, were there boons.
In their mental equipoise, yet, they were mere juveniles.
Though Jesus mocked them, molding them was his mere intention.
As flesh needs blood, they're in need of divine intervention.
Quote: Lost in the velvet of your heart I am
none else but, your Valentine !
Finding my way back to the days when you and I were young
I flip back the pages of our youth and smile
Two wide eyes juveniles meeting at the altar of love
ready to meet each other soul to soul ...
Enraptured in this moment of sweet remembrance
I recall the young man I once married.
Always by my side he never tarried
and when it came to loving me,
he was always right on time..
In robes of empathy, a judge should stand,
Learning mental struggles, extending a hand,
Understanding the pipeline's unjust strife,
For underprivileged souls, a chance at life.
No bail bondsman's grip, a system redefined,
Where fairness and justice are closely aligned,
Juveniles, tender hearts, scarred by the past,
Guidance and understanding, to heal and hold fast.
With wisdom and care, these wounds they'll address,
Through patient discussions, the pain they'll assess,
No father figure's absence to define their fate,
But mentorship and love, helping them navigate.
A courtroom transformed, compassion as a guide,
Breaking chains of injustice, where destinies collide,
Each decision made, reflects a compassionate art,
A judge who mends souls and mends every heart.
Juveniles are likely the ones to do something stupid when the police are in pursuit. Climbing on railcars, parked where the lumber yard and stockyards are served, on a late spring evening as a self-imposed dare is something fun to get away with. But when your friend reports that the cops are coming and you scamper towards home, the adrenaline surge fuels stupid maneuvers. An abrupt U-turn at the edge of a building, I swung my left leg and made full-throttle contact with the rolled edge of metal feed trough resulting in a bone-deep gouge along my knee cap. I limped home, lifted my pant leg to see the blood stream being soaked up by my sock and to my surprise I rather calmly announced to my mother that I needed to go the hospital.
There are no adults here..
Only confused kids.
Children under the delusion that they know what they're doing.
Youngsters playing make-believe in a world they perceive so solidly.
Every one a narrator, a role-player. Everyone..
Leads in our own stories.
Every thing we can imagine, we can be. Everything we are we imagine..
What creations we can dream!
One great, big game of mummies and daddies, shop keepers, teachers,
cops and robbers, mad scientists, inventors, doctors and nurses, and animal healers,
heroes and villains, and rulers, and rock stars,
warriors,
adventurers,
gourmet mud pie makers;
'anybody I think would be more interesting, more loveable, better than the "real" me'...
A bit of looking, some basic understanding of psychology, and a whole lot of gut-wrenching honesty is required to see that humanity is full of toddlers through tweens:
most of us are prepubescent, so few ever reach mere adolescence.
Billions of babes, tots, small fry, minors, juveniles, and youths.
A whole world bumbling with infants!
Littleuns, in our innocence, taking ourselves so seriously..
In a way, it's kind of tragic.
In a way it's kind of sweet..
The death of once-great swans I oft' lament;
and ask in vain, “Where have all the bards gone?”
No more are written lines as eloquent
as in the days of Poesy's ancient dawn,
when Homer sung the epic war for Troy,
and the odyssey of a Greek-hero king;
or, when the poet Petrarch sung for joy
of Laura, his love; and Dante, whose dayspring
of the heart was Beatrice. The Romantics
of bygone days, alas, are forgotten!
The lyric odes of Keats, the Byronics
of George Gordon, are now misbegotten
by great reams of abysmal, free-verse styles
today ill-writ by mental juveniles.
A new year is approaching fast,
this one will be over at last.
We crave to socialize, that's plain,
and yet we shouldn't be too smug,
covid is still a superbug.
This virus continues to drain
our resources with tasking trials,
for older folks and juveniles.
Yet, wearing masks is not in vain,
they're both effective and low-cost,
used once, then conveniently tossed,
although often worn with disdain.
A new year is approaching fast,
think today, don't dwell on the past.
Soon loved ones will gather again,
and we'll finally get that hug
that's far better than any drug.
And breaking free of covid's chain,
we'll unmask the beauty of smiles
and resume our lifestyles.
Go out to dine or board a plane,
reclaim those precious moments lost.
Celebrate life, despite the cost,
and put aside our tears and pain.
Let's be hopeful and less downcast
it's time for fireworks and champagne,
the human spirit's unsurpassed.
(Hutinashro)
12/15/2021
Angelic, Benevolent, Caregiver
Determined, Energetic, Friendly
Generously Helped Indigenous Juveniles
Kindhearted, Loving, Merciful
Nursed Older Patients
Quintessential, Remarkable, Samaritan
Tremendous,Unending, Vigor
Wholeheartedly Xenial
Youthfully Zealous
Childhood, the glory of pure innocence
A boon blessed by His omnipotence
Nonpareil and priceless gift to a child
Like a lamb delicate, gentle and mild.
An endless and inexhaustible bliss
A gifted phase that one should never miss
Immaculate souls of cute juveniles
Where He finds Himself in their beaming smiles
Icons for ingenuous happiness
Blossoming little hearts with loving kindness
Unstained with the impurities of world
Let the petals of dreaming buds unfurled.
Never sketch thy huge plans for their future
Let them grow under the blue in nature
Never take their childhood in to thy hand
Let them have bliss of heaven on this land.
Picture: 3
Rhyming Me A Poem 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Date: 11-11-2021.
Sri Lankan Elephants are listed as, endangered
and are the largest and darkest, of the Asian elephants
Herds have nursing units, with lactating females and young
and they have juvenile units, containing females and juveniles
Sri Lankan Elephants, are been pushed into smaller areas
because of deforestation, that disturbs their migrating routes
Human-elephant conflicts, results in human and elephant deaths
because the humans need of greed, is only for human grassroots
I am:
Child – conduct and beliefs taught from birth are ingrained
Wife – caring hubby holds me accountable yet contented
Mother – couple of sons and a daughter, I'm proud to present
Sister – contacts weekly, so glad FaceTime was invented
Nana – caretaker of three kiddoes who keep me entertained
Christian - Jesus Christ my Savior, Redeemer and Guide
Learner – juggling Sudoku, Rubik's Cube and Tunisian crochet
Friend – joint-heirs with believers in whom I can confide
Neighbor – juveniles, adults and pets, we connect day by day
Teacher – lingering occupation from which I cannot retire
Poet – love of language to instruct, imagine and inspire
Musician –long-time interest both on keyboard and in choir
Cook – my pet-peeve job, if I am the chef, be on guard
Housekeeper – my pride and joy is our new home and yard
Optimist – all things are possible through faith in God
April 27, 2020
Contest: Andrea Dietrich: I Am, A List Bio Challenge
All children of a lesser god,
Someone somewhere has spared the rod.
Disobedience led astray
Where iconoclast await to prey.
Apocryphal the unaware,
Their secrets juveniles don't share.
Subversive action that relies,
On innocence through child like eyes.
A fountain of all knowledge, yet
Corruption roams the internet.
Projecting images and sound,
Leaves immaturity spellbound.
And adolescents with stupidity,
Lured into vile iniquity.
Recriminations, who is to blame?
Those children taught to kill and maim,
Or radicals, wherever from,
Who leave misfits to plant the bomb.
4 / 9 / 2020.
In a small town of 800 the lonely town where children never sleep
Hardly can anyone imagine them ever being sweet
Some are bullies, some rob, steal, some brake windows
Others are found juvenile delinquents breaking into condos
Adults and political authorities
Sanctions rules and laws just for the youth minorities
These hard nosed children keep breaking them curfews
Rebellious youth with incurred huge transverse views
The disorderly town children fight and riot
No wonder these rebellious cretins are sleep and so tried
Small town of 800 this lonely town where children never obey civil laws
These Town Children Delinquents breaking juveniles
9/14/19
Sponsored by:Julia Ward
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