Long Bran new Poems

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I Cannot Remember, When ?

Longing for the flowers that adorn my garden patch 
I open wide the door that I imagine sits unlatched 
Inside this magic land of mine, I'm longing to explore  
every dainty blossom bud arranged with sweet adore

Une belle Epoque, "a period of high artistic view" 
each boutonnieres is a whisper of, " and how are you ?"
Abiding in the charms of my annual florets, 
I sit and take to wonder, how it is that we first met 

It was Maytime and the sun was oh ! bran new 
yes we were enamored and we stuck like crazy glue 
Two petals sharing one flower, we clung like poetry    
leaning on each other sharing secrets, drinking tea 

Oh but that was long ago, when love was all we knew    
two flowers growing wild aside some gentle feverfews
Steadfast as the sun and moon we were back then 
as I sit here in my garden for the life of me, 
I cannot remember, when ?
Form: Rhyme


Please Dont Fall Asleep

Wake up America, 
Arise from your slumber
Media has desensitized your minds
We live in a new world of technology that has made you colorblind
Meaningless, with deeper meaning
Music lyrics have been subconsciously stealing
While you think it’s the beat you are feeling
Listen to the words and then tell me if it’s still appealing
Even Movies have brainwashed your judgment of what’s ok
Too many people are sitting back, watching our ethics slip away.
The Government has helped us all too simply learn to accept
While gradually breaking down the family structure, many have just slept.
No longer can we allow these planted seeds of lies to continue to grow
This is real reality, not some entertainment show
Our children are not aware
That their future is in for a scare
Our youth are looking for role models and leaders
They have become susceptible to idolize bottom feeders
Wake up America,
We need a real change
Bring back integrity, morals and stop being estrange
They keep us busy in televised drama 
Currently immune, with no proper armor
While people are starving and walking around half alive
They are plotting our nation’s permanent demise
Sex trafficking is at a an all-time high
Wealthy men are raping young girls in America and when they are done with them they watch them die!
Poverty and greed is causing drug dealers to lead
A generation of angry lost young man
Creating baby’s that start the cycle again
The more eyes that now see
The more we can be
Brought back to truth and sanity
The rich are getting richer and the working class have grown tired
Democracy is being set on fire
You may question what you can do
If everyday each person changed just one view
We would be able to recover what has been lost and start bran new
The people need to take a stand and vote like they really care
We must join together, use our voice, and remind them we are still there.


BY: Sabina Nicole
Written: 1-1-12
Form: Couplet

I'm Going To Write Until The Day Is Done

I'm going to keep writing regardless of the outcome 
I'm going to keep clicking my keys and my mind 
I'm going to create from nothing what I need 
I'm going to give it all I got, cuz its what I do ! 

I will share my thoughts whether you like it or not  
I will give you the best of me, and you decide 
I will not be a cower in face of gossip and quarrel 
I will not fold just because you think I'm too much 

I'm going to write like a true writer until it gets dark 
I'm going to write in the sun like a bard of old and win  
I'm going to share my light with others using only words 
I'm going to be the girl I was born to be, tall tales are free 

I'm going to entertain you with words and phrases from ?  
I'm going to sparkle like bran new cutlery, be it fork or spoon 
I'm going to serve it to you every day with a smile 
I'm going to be a poet whether you like it or not  

I'm going to keep writing regardless of the outcome 
I'm going to brave it and write until the day is done.

Whole Again

What can make you whole again
scrub you clean and be your friend,
What can change your heart’s desire
Burn away the old with a blazing fire,
What can change the way you think,
Become your treasured, missing link,
What can restore the years of trauma,
Give you strength and bran new armor,
What can give you eternal peace,
Tame the ancient, ravenous beast,
What can rectify all your sin,
Cover you with gold from within,
What can rebuild all the devastations,
repair your oldest complications,
What can make the rivers flow,
Wash you white as snow,
What can change the color in your eyes,
Reveal all the years of hidden lies,
Nothing, 
Nothing,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.





By: Sabina Nicole
Form: Couplet

Summer of Nineteen Sixty Seven

“You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.” 
Rumi

It was the summer of 1967 and the sun was almost bran new 
me and Tony L. skipped to the corner to raid the candy store 
sometimes we bought a paper bag full of small penny candies  
other times it was a fancy box, full of Cracker Jack popcorn ...
We grew up like sleuths on 2nd Avenue by the rubble of Miron 
sludging through dried clay and playing with colorful marbles 
As we played with washed up marbles, we grew up in time    
laughtering our days until the sober rays of adulthood arrived    
No one will ever forget that place on St. Michel dear bro,
it was where the pine tree grew, when life was spanking new  
all the prizes that we won, are still laying on the concrete floor 

Written by : Mystic Rose


This Ones For Harry, York Minster Creation

It was called Lantern tower up a winding staircase you go to reach the highest spot
when it came to erecting the York Minster Cathedral I believe they gave it all of they got 
Northern Europe's largest consecrated Medieval Gothic space, York Minster was a vision 
surpassed only by Chartres Loire region of France but for Harry, there is only one creation 
This sacred devotional Kingdom was completed in 1472, with eight pressed  leaves of quire 
275 steps to the top of a central tower, a Godly place built for soulful prayer sure to inspire 
Then one day a lightening bolt hit the church and set it on fire destroying this Sacred place 
this beautiful gathering place built in memory of St. Peter was destroyed as fire laced...
St Peter was known as protector of fishermen, and "Christ" was one of them who knew, 
He is named the Saint of “keys of heaven,” and so he's also patron Saint of locksmiths too
so when I heard that this beautiful establishment had lost its roof, it was a sad reflection   
though it was rebuilt using traditional materials from experts in Medieval reconstruction
Like Notre Dame the minster has a famous Rose Window - a stained glass masterpiece 
which looks over the center of York, it is now a beautiful place with a bran new lease 
The Minster has been at the center of Christianity in the north of England for centuries 
so the fire of 84 is now just a memory, we can again return there with ease  

Authors Note: Faith, the one thing in life that can't be robbed or taken. 
Wear religion round your belt and spirituality like a gown of light. 
Let it spread to all those who need it most.  Share the love, give it to 
the weary so they can have a place to dock.
Form: Rhyme

Dragonfly Dreams

Upon your wings of crystal blue 
a morning drop of dew 
although the sky is watching you 
you know, I am there too 
Oh dragonfly of love, how do you do 
I wonder as I sit and rue 
about the things I never knew 
and all this beauty, oh so new 
Of all the sanctuaries of the world 
you chose the one that has been pearled 
by an artist's loving hand unfurled,  
I am beholden to, things I have unlearned; 
In this moment I appreciate the beauty 
of a simple thing, that draws me  
at the edge of dawn I am always free 
to dance with this dragonfly and just be
Upon a sky of crystal blue a dragonfly wing of every hue, 
although its made of old glass, every day feels bran new.
Written by: Mystic Rose 
Inspired by: Susan Jarrell

STRAWBERRY MOON


Say hello to June, come greet each floral scent that fills your hearts and noses   
it is time to put away your winter garbs & lose yourselves in leaves and roses

June, a month of gentle starts as the days get longer filled with golden light
we oft renew our  garden vows, planting seeds of joy wherever we go   

"Oh! Flowery Month of June, sing to us a song of hope & gentle care,  
as you lead us through the garden path of life with truth and dare...

With each rising bran new day comes the promise of a new tomorrow 
help us embrace the moments that come to us without deep sorrow 

Goodbye May Hello June, like those lovely strawberries I see grow in June,  
I am longing for serene enchanting nights, beneath your strawberry moon.
Form: Couplet

New Day

Have you ever come to the end of the day,
and can run the clock back play by play,
and can add it up that supposedly 
it was the day it was suppose to be,
but somehow it seems that no time has gone
like a broken record playing on and on,
and you think back through all the things you’ve done -
every day every deed bleeding into one,
and you can’t help but feel just a little fear 
and hopelessness, cause it isn’t clear 
what it’s all about, why you rise each day
fight the fights you fight, play the games you play,
do the things you do, “Just what the hell for”
for you’ve done it all a thousand times before,
and could keep on going til the bitter end,
and perhaps you will but what purpose then
does it serve, and so your left with not
but to sigh and deal with what you’ve got,
and just keep moving for you know what they say…

tomorrow will be a bran new day.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member OUR LIVES TURNED INSIDE OUT AND UPSIDE DOWN

Clara our little angel, three and a half years of age,
If I had the time I would love to have written a book,
And would ask you all, to please take a look,
It would be about her little adventures on every page.

She is  as sparky and as bright as a bran new penny, 
Her laughter just like a running brook,
Her hair growing long now, it took
A while, I love it when she calls me Jenny.

Hubby and I have a longish walk every day,
She would love to come with us but dad
And mum say no, if they said yes, we would be so glad,
When I am older Yia-Yia she says, in a grown up way.

She loves her eight-month-old little brother,
How on earth has he got those big blue eyes and hair,
That is as blonde as a bright sunny day, so fair,
Only one in our family who had green eyes, my mother.

To be grandparents we were told would never come true,
For eighteen years they kept saying no children,
And then in the nineteenth year, they were smitten
With the idea of having a child, so they decided on two!

I love my little angel who I call my  monkey,
She is the joy of my life, as she tells me her news
About school and very rarely she has the blues,
If a boy pulled her pigtail, she would tell him his 
Fortune, she is really spunky.

We live in a cottage on my sons property, neighbors,
So, Clara has easy access to visiting us next door,
As long as she first asks mum or dad, she visits galore,
But she knows she will be collected by 6.pm, for dinner.

Would love to take her for a chocolate ice cream, and vow
To take funny pics as it runs down her face, but, she must be 
Seven or eight parents say,
Which makes the three of us a little sad, but hey,
Having grandchildren living on our door step, wow, oh wow!
Form: Rhyme

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