Acrobatic starlight
new champion for League of Legends
Starlight wonder queen
tossed high into the cosmos amid meteorites
Lightning power surrounds her as a smoky sizzling haze
Soroka and Rye check their runes, to figure out her place
Brawlers, assassins and marksmen are at the ready
keeping their eyes and weapons on the latest champion
Let the game begin!
Categories:
marksmen, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse
Triggers are red,
barrels are blue.
Smith and Wesson
I love you!
Targets are set,
guns are sighted.
In my hand,
I get excited!
Bore snakes out
Hoppe’s too
be good to them
they’ll be good to you!
NB: I have a great photo of my grandson's team with their SCTP Nationals Trap Shooting trophies, but PS will not allow me to upload it. Your loss. LOL. There are no shotguns in the picture, but a depiction of one on the trophies. (I can upload any other picture from my library or off the Web, unless it shows guns or shooting - how very liberal. Pity, it is a great sport, as are other types of shooting competitions.)
Categories:
marksmen, appreciation, care, dedication, feelings,
Form: Rhyme
A word can be a sharp-tipped arrow
Its marksmen uses for good or evil
Gentlemen target angels' songs
Scoundrels aim for the devil's
Categories:
marksmen, angel, song, words,
Form: Rhyme
Must you mileage chalk up in free verse speed way
For Kim Patrice Nunez*, with hope
Must you mileage chalk up in free verse speed way
Let your wheels skid by letting loose grip on wheel
Free verse range’s for marksmen trained on rondolet*
Dipodic foot pantun villanelle dactyl
Cut their teeth on the slippery run-on-line
Roll their anaepest tongue round limerick rhyme
Do not a ballad begin with aubade fine
Nor drive straight past end-stopped line’s feminine rhyme
Such as painters’ coprophilia canvasses
Hide chance ironic hidden ghostly faces
Cubist abstract surrealist morasses
Whose apprenticeships lead to trumping aces
Far too many poets love the sound of words
Yet shirk bardic tasks speeding on twisted roads
* Nunez: Sorry, no tilde over the “n” on my Mac.
• rondolet: French pronunciation rhymes with “way”.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Categories:
marksmen, art, creation, philosophy, poetry,
Form: Sonnet
In the midnight hour she
cried no more.
Her mind as she tried to
sleep cried out encore.
She wrestled with the demons
and spirits of the night.
Tossed back and forth
beneath the sheets so right.
Anguish within her soul
longing for a rest.
Words so soothing to
the soul cried for the best.
Pulling back the bed covers
away from her torso.
Candlelight on her table still aglow.
She moved towards the table
her mind set on a battle.
Within her grasp lie her pen
now all was quiet in the den.
Thoughts from her mind
were silent.
Words she began to write
they were to the soul ointment.
Images she painted and stroked
with her pen.
Striking her page as a
trained marksmen.
Verses they began
to intertwine.
So soothing one would
sip like fine wine.
She finished her poem
a poem she named
the phantom.
Categories:
marksmen, art, on writing and
Form: Free verse
We had turned the western fold
ecliped in the setinenrs nold
Where abendindeta was told
This story is far too old
with dreams shealtering the bold
In a time dangerous and so cold
This story is far too old
A fearless leaders distine cry
Here i was just a marksmen soilder of deception with a heart of gold
Never blink in your enemeies gamble
Driven bye this i walked behind blue eyes
Shouting in raiseing my daggers too the sky
True morals have swept the fortold bloodshed
Few quarrel's say this man's dead
Family wars is where i rested my head
to began the breath of my last death bed
A netural of messages's sent
an borken ties and it's forgoten lent
I've reached for all in my rise in fall
And took no parallel in up-lifting my needs
Place your hand in mine here u will find security in love everlasting
I seek the foul carson who was their watching
The fools rabbit sits at his grave
the man cree of a playing
I have shed no tears under the rumoured name
Categories:
marksmen, adventure, devotion, faith, forgiveness,
Form: Ballad