My head sun bound,
The water scream sublime.
The ripples waver.
So tranquil now,
But if I fall,
Grasp and grippling.
Yes I’m fine on the ledge.
But the blue skies so meek,
Compare to the sonorous sea.
Aplomb.
The water leave a white sheen,
But unkempt under hide.
Hermit’s fatuous thinking.
ON THE LEDGE;
Hughes Turner Project HTP: Hughes/Turner/Di Cola
---------------------------------------------------------
Sometimes I lose my faith in heaven
Sometimes I lose my fear of hell
Sometimes I feel so lost
I don’t like to be petted or pitied
I yearn for night in day
I yearn for day in night
I am not confused
My dreams
Are as such, I don’t like to remember
Sometimes I feel I am on the ledge
Sometimes I feel I am all alone
Sometimes I feel I am losing the fight
I don’t like to live this way
I yearn to be saved, by You
I yearn to walk tall, by You
It is not much to ask,
My lord
Be mine, Be with me, Live me
Rekindle my faith in heaven
Renew my fear of hell
Calm me down, My lord
I like to sing your praises, Ever so
Make me strong
Noelle Cottage straddles ledges of grey,
Extending into waters of Casio Bay,
Along Small Point’s shoreline of Atlantic Ocean,
Observing forest, sky, and ocean devotion.
Feathered fliers: Osprey, Sea Gull, and Eagle,
Their diet all favorites and everything legal,
Overhead wing-singing their various tunes,
Hunt above beaches near sandy, beige dunes.
Noelle Cottage awaits - at the end of Shore Road
Where sea-salty breezes generally flow,
Among acres of Fir, Birch, Maple, and Pine,
Awakening fond memories obscure in time.
Life by the sea is always a challenge.
Happiness there’s a joyous challenge to manage.
to know or believe
conviction a funny word~
doubtless to a fault
***
If you could relive one day of your life..
time lost, now retrieved for just a short while.
To thrust old scheming machinations knife,
or return healing to a lover's smile.
Such a fretted frittering those lost days,
though ones you and I will remember most.
Passions reared high in servile dewy haze..
soft breathe warm against skin from dearest host.
Moment waits untended a dreamer's call,
something I can never give you again.
Bodice caught on nail of new lover's wall,
though we may choose to return now and then.
Tarried too long look'g to horizon's edge..
promised heart unharmed, now pulled from a ledge.
Hedge abot Pledge to Leep From Ledge
we would have to hedge
about us making a pledge
channel we must dredge
Jim Horn
Strong sentinel on high
Beneath a mountain sky;
Called by name Bristlecone.
Twisted tree all alone
With green needles so dark
Life clings stoic and stark.
Worn wood with thin bark edge
Locked to a limestone ledge.
Thousands of years flowed past
‘Gainst snow and wind, a mast.
No sails with which to fly
You grew gnarled by-and-by.
Drought and quakes, you did face
Yet you held firm your place.
Despite all nature’s strife,
How do you cling to life?
The Lord's respect won't reach mankind
They're never here to vetch it
Where all who know the lord to play
hold every kind of fetch it
That all who hold the lord to word
know any kind of hedge met
As all who know to stay away
sole any kind of ledge met
I fell asleep it was day
icy and grey
bewildered on a ledge
protruding from the rock
no sign of mountain top
darkness round about
the abyss down below
deep and hot.
Leaning on the savage rock
menacing tongue and eyes
on the three by five
my wife
who had earlier died,
in the bottomless fiery pit
both careful not to slip.
Vapors slowly rising,
filling throat and eyes
dormant spite rising
smoke from hatred fire
torch devouring us dry
drunk for eternity on dripping
blood from gnawed flesh
on the ledge in the throat of hell.
A rose bloomed.
A poem written in buds.
It offered its arms, illiterate to whats been written.
It fell asleep. A garden in thought.
Slipping from the ledge it grew.
In REM it whispered.
Wake me when we land.
For I will have acheived my dream
I sit at the end of the wooden pier
Near the river’s edge
As the current cool water veers
Unhindered away from the ledge
Watching the swirls on the water surface
As the ducklings swim, as they leave the sedge
Aware of my bare feet, splashing the blue surface
For bread crumbs as I stretch to feed them from the ledge
Lapping sounds echo against the pier
As river takes a breath from its creator
Then drew away without fear
Mixed with calm melody of nature
I sit at the end of the wooden pier
Near the river’s edge
As the current cool water veers
Feeding the ducklings from the ledge
5/4/2016
A Lonely Ledge
There always appears to be a lonely ledge
We will reach before going over the edge
It really may not be obvious or clear cut
So ask how, when, where, why and what.
In progression, try to answer each word
Listening to way they have been heard
Which must importance be placed upon
And was it actually, deliberately done.
What evolved and eventually did realize
Was things in this world may antagonize
Now hard may have become your heart
Separating and splitting you all apart.
How can we forever feel comfortably?
And full of happiness with jubilee
When a tragedy recently passed by
To forget it how hard we all did try.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
There are always those things such as
tragedies to mar everything.
blue water on ledge
dribbling down vertical side…
mist forms at bottom
Russell Sivey
Contest: any haiku will do
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
7/17/2013
Every morning between 7:00 AM and 7:30 Am
I f you looked through the bathroom window
You would see a most beautiful sight.
There were three deer on the ledge;
Father, Mother, And Babe
They would stand there for an hour
Then they would go back into the woods
You could set your watch by the deer
on the ledge
I stand on this ledge… Teetering back and forth on the edge…
I weave precariously, slipping on my tears…
I look to the heavens as I swallow my fears…
A warm breeze gently caresses my face…
There is no more time, and there is no space…
I stand with my arms over my head…
I am not alive, nor am I dead…
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