Long Misty eyed Poems
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through a very small circle
and without reason
I once caught sight
of a magnified ship
'standing still'
out at sea
when it came into focus
it merged with the sky
that was grey
and was smudged
by the rain on the lens
like the whole world around it
not even the dog on the beach
barking and spinning in circles
while chasing whistles
that got lost
on the razor blade wind
could detract
because for those
five misty-eyed minutes
before my sixpence ran out
life was safe and exciting
with no
real meaning
that ship
is still out there
anchored somewhere
inside childhood
- out of time
out of season
and many many miles
from land.
In trembling winds,
Softly blessing,
Silent expressions,
Gales of lasting,
Serenity, sincerity.
In breathless tears,
Worn by spirits,
Gentle as dew,
Manifestations,
Reflections, glistening.
In sunrise whispers,
Glowing beautiful,
Kindness in faces,
Faded feelings,
On pages of grace.
In forests and friends,
Laboring, listening,
Pouring out sweetness,
Misty eyed dreams,
Magnificent prayers.
In soaking rains,
Restoring the earth,
Praising with dampness,
Breathing praises, psalms,
Lasting hues of liquid light.
In hearts who sing,
Psalms and hymns,
Melodies so pure,
Stirring the spirit,
With softest feeling.
In mysteries, miracles
Wonders like gifts,
Aching to exalt,
Him who gives
Peace without end.
In love, more alive
Than the glimmer of fireflies,
Dancing with a quiet moon,
In star strewn whispers,
Singing of the new.
In my heart, I know Him,
The everlasting of grace,
The faith that never fades,
The hope that forever lasts,
The love that speaks about…
His Holy Spirit,
His compassion
His affection
His forgiveness,
His eternal love.
He is the song,
Played by the wind,
Resonating in the dance,
Between grace and a second chance,
In the love that comes from above….
The love that He sings
When He reaches out
He brings enchanting gifts,
Restoring, healing, giving
Souls a reason for believing.
In my spirit, I sing
Of all the joy He brings
With His unending peace,
He is what life is about
He is the light that will never go out…
He is the answer,
Echoing beyond the shadows,
Stirring souls to accept Him,
So they’ll know what it means
To have a cup that overflows…
With the joy of eternal love,
The joy of knowing – He is the One
Who not only brings the sun, but
Also shines His light into the world,
Assuring souls that love has won.
Oh, yes…
Love has won!
The dark blue velvet pad of night
Initiates shivers of delight
While the stars and their cold fire
Sparkle with a lover's desire.
The lunar disc sends its silvery glow
Gently to help us on the road we go
While in the night the soft sounds deep
Soothe us on our way to sleep.
With the rising of the glorious sun
All the colours to themselves return
While the cock revels in the crack of dawn
To herald the beauty of another morn.
Then with joy the full-throated choir sings
To tell us day has just found its wings
While with this chorus the flowers afresh
Seduce our senses with their fragrant breath
Night is for the misty- eyed to muse and pine
Day is for the clear-headed to rise and shine.
My svelte bushy tailed cat, Hamilton, whose praises I laud,
leapt onto my lap and purred in a jittery fashion because,
a whiff of marked shift in daily routine,
she did pick up from my nonverbal long body waves,
each earnest habit once set in stone an absent without trace,
my darling pet so alert would detect the slightest tweak,
and spell out how the goal post now astir smelt fishy,
Hamilton, a character so utterly oozes otherworld charm,
as is the wont of divine feline species beyond limit,
and with impishness a constant in the past this pet of mine,
would latch on to each prized item as if driven to whisk them away,
that guilt free shrewd smirk infernal innocent methinks,
why me no I wouldn’t bug, irk, upset one so precious as you,
or tear at your tender heart haphazardly in an inane quest,
for nose-rubbing notice, deep bond playful jest,
as I peer in awe at that dainty trot whilst on the prowl,
a misty eyed me recalled her fond cat laugh bag of tricks,
yet to hear a taxi outside beep is a less than warm reminder,
that I must depart though unwilling from Hamilton’s grasp,
bursting into a sob as she stared from the stair top
When lost in the woods
one wanders lugubriously directionless
in the weeds vines and branches
obstructing the altogether magnificent world
that abounds and surrounds
the muddled mind of the soul-filled seeker:
Truth traveler and mystical unraveller
plodding ahead confused in dread
of what lies beyond
the not-so-distant tree line
drifting dreamlike in a cloud
of misty-eyed fog looming in the air
just over there next to nowhere
like a serpent ready to strike...
Where forward momentum becomes a battle
against God Gravity and Nature as One
finds fear inviting and darkness enticing
as shadows on the moon walking
freely as a butterfly wafting
into a new dimension in space-time
before discerning the profundity of the scene
as nothing more than the ageless
Mad Magician whispering dismally sweet nothings
into the minds and ears of all good people
throughout our tear-filled years...
("Follow me," says he, "to the tasty apple on the tree.")
Until the soul seeking, scintillating Sun-Light appears
awakening the dumbfounded lost in the woodlands
to an inviting winding path leading toward
higher elevations in the farthest reaches
yearnings and palpitations of the universe
and the unfathomable intangible that binds
and sustains all matter and life reverberating
in every heartbeat and breath of fresh air in-spired
for the searching of the perennial
everlasting and Wholly desired:
Love-Beauty-Truth-Freedom-Forgiveness-Grace
and all that we long for and imagine to be Good
at the end of the long winding path
through weeds vines and branches
when lost in the woods.
It was summer in the mountains,
Daisies, bees and poison ivy surrounding
The little creek where my feet swung down,
Swaying gently over the trickling water…
Betraying the heat with its coolness,
Its calm – serene like the world where I came from,
A world of laughter, beauty and grace…
Where granny worked and prayed,
Where mama didn’t see any shame in repenting
For sins that were taken away by the Savior,
The grace that remained when He went to heaven
To await the day when we would come to stay
With Him, in paradise… in praise, in eternity
Fading into the summer praises, the lupines
In colors of elaborate violet – dusty rose delphiniums,
Imperial hues of breathless roses, blushing beauties
Brilliant and bright, hoping for the moment when rain
Bruises the petals and suggests to them a joy
Far beyond the miracles invading breathless whispers,
Rainfall moments and sun, so alive it feels nearly timeless,
Blessing the leaves, silently fawning – mysteries
While all the world searches for the wonders of these
Gracious colors, admiring – honoring the beautiful,
My little cousin eating pies I created
With two chubby hands, pies two times the size
Of the pot pie pans that taught me the meaning of
Recycling… they were leftover trinkets from a mother
Who believed in me, she’d found her reason
But me … I was only happy to know the freedom
Creating mud pies on the banks of a creek that treated
Me like the wish for giggles, the craving for fanciful
Dreams who walk away from the heart
Misty eyed and prayerful, erasing the lost
Hopes, replacing them with promises
For a coloring book life… made from joy and hope,
Kindness that fills up the soul, a wildness
That comes from being that little girl who grows
Cousins from the mud pies she baked in the sun,
Urging them to gorge themselves with…
And, they still loved her, despite her baking skills!
The uniform was issued to him during the Second World War.
Tho' at first it was somewhat ill-fitting, it he proudly wore.
He was a mere lad of eighteen when his Army career began,
But as that savage conflict raged on, he rapidly became a man!
He considered it an honor to wear the uniform of his nation.
Little brother and sis idolized their hero with great admiration.
His sweetheart was so proud to be escorted upon his arm.
Mom and Dad were also proud and prayed he'd meet no harm.
He wore his uniform on their wedding day, she a bit misty-eyed,
As she saw her handsome soldier when he took her as his bride.
Tho' they faced uncertainty in a world that had gone awry,
They vowed love and faithfulness as they said their sad goodbye.
He stowed his uniform in his duffel and donned his battle dress,
Slogging thro' Pacific jungle isles as forward he did press.
Among the many medals and other laurels that he did achieve,
He was honored with sergeants stripes sewn upon each sleeve!
After the war, tho' a bit snug, he wore his uniform with pride,
In many patriotic parades as he marched with resolute stride!
For his final roll call he wore the uniform as his funereal shroud.
God greeted him saying, "Son you sure have made Me proud!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Time rewind, loving touch of my mother
Snatched away by the remorseless fangs of time
That also did sadly smother, camaraderie with my brother
Ah, no matter, memory has now sounded it's mystical chime
Misty eyed I recall tender moments of childhood treasured
As through serpentine arduous pathways of life, l climb
How may pristine love and innocence be measured
Heart free from malice, childhood days were so carefree
By grace, feeling no angst or anger, when for faults censured
It was then during childhood years, that my joyous soul was free
I now oft try to rekindle those cherished moments in my mind
Vicariously however, dependent upon my fading memory
As I now flounder about through life, love bereft and spiritually blind
I yearn to resurrect the magic of blissful love and joy, left far behind
06-October-2022
Theme: Memory
Inspired by Constance La France’s contest
The Tears Bequeathed
Of frozen droplets’ ice water in his veins swamped his heart
little crystals of permafrost too rugged too woebegone to even
drown his open-ended sorrows in the tears bequeathed by the
outpouring void the downtrodden chute where his flute had once
Charmed her flow the lock of her hair the green amber gaze
now unbound in the bygone foreplay and symphony of dreams
‘Rose Perlemoen’ mother of pearls had left him a catcher in the dry
lost in transition suffocated by fanciful reverie teased in playful
enchantment pleased of seduction seized and then ceased in smothered
abandoned fanciful fantasy of infinite love of eternal longing
‘Carpus Momento’ spurned lover and seeker had tasted seedless
grapes of temptation once fulfilled twice refused ovules released
A crevasse had opened had wrenched snatched charging pound his
rhythm then closed over cascades of torrents in misty eyed drought
When blood reached his cheeks ichor resembled no virgin’s stream yet
an ocean of red escaped from jugular vessels as he lay on the ground
His final words drowned in tears torn apart written in ink from his heart
opened by her cunning freeze like icicle’ lingo to his child yet to be born
21st October 2016
Words Drowned In Tears Poetry Contest
Your sweet nectar fills my cup to the brim,
I never tire of your masculine touch.
You gave me hope in love,when all looked grim,
darling you’re my soulmate and not a clutch.
I will fill your cup til’ the heavens end,
touching every part of your lovely soul.
We’ll face any storm, you are my best friend,
our love is like no other, and I’m whole .
Basking in your affection is sublime,
when I met you, my heart began to beat.
My love for you will pass the end of time,
being in your arms is a special treat.
I get misty eyed from pure happiness,
you take my breath away, I now confess
Do not mist your eyes I will be here,
My arms will always be open, clutch them.
Let me see the stars in your eyes,
Let me hold your golden heart.
Let me love you,
Let us never part.
Alexis Y. &
Bobby May
10/15/2020
Copyright © Bobby May | Year Posted 2020