So, March will be here one short week from now,
and I, for one, am counting the few days,
for she will lead us into springtime's phase
where soon we'll see that winter will avow
to end its hold just one day at a time,
so snow-filled days won't last for very long.
While tree buds stir, await the new spring song,
each day rewards with warmer temps that climb.
Soon after though, she shall become a queen,
when vernal equinox will crown her 'Spring',
and claim her day, March twentieth, then swing
to work full force and spread her lovely green.
Day one of fall to spring...six months in all,
with winter in between as the midpoint;
but only March provides the promised joint
that links up to the magic of spring's call.
Although, sometimes, a lioness in part,
with gusty winds, or even blizzard snow...
since winter's not too happy to let go...
she'll leave, meek as a lamb, for April's start.
Sandra M. Haight
~7th Place~
Premiere Contest: Enclosed Rhyme
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Judged: 03/02/2019
We’re beautiful creatures,
shaped and fashioned by God
We’re loving and kind
We’re sweet and gentle
We’re bright and smart
We teach and correct
We organize and orchestrate
We're beautiful creatures
We’re strong and courageous
We comfort and encourage
We can be as meek as a lamb,
as tough as a lion
We make a house a home
We're beautiful creatures
We’re hard to understand
We're hard to figure out
We can laugh our loudest laugh
We can smile our brightest smile
We can cry for no reason at all
We can be soft and sweet, as a rose,
but watch out for our thorns
We’re beautiful and complicated
God’s beautiful complicated creatures
I have had good counsel from a wonderful therapist.
I had to be suicidal to get on her list.
I waited over a year to see her.
Only managed then because I became suicidal again.
At the start I said "Sure, I've nothing to say."
She nodded wisely, then led the way.
'Till shortly I was effusing about the pain I was withholding.
The poetry was flowing.
We were dancing and stomping.
The words were pouring.
The one thing she could not get me to do,
was express the anger I still have towards you.
Suggested wringing a cloth, or banging a pillow.
Shouting the hurts I suffered while with you.
But I'm not concerned as I've found a weapon.
It is of course Poetrysoup heaven.
Already it has trickled through to the pen.
What a poor example you are among men.
For now it's my counselor I wish to thank.
She has led me gently back from the brink...
of the abyss I was staring into.
From being meek as a lamb, sexless....voiceless.
I'm an emotional lioness, no longer joyless.
I've made her a book of my wee poems.
She thinks I should publish, as if I'm a pro.
Sure, I'm too modest for that...
Or am I?
11/14/2015
STARING INTO THE ABYSS
Edward Ibeh's contest.
My senses awaken as quiet night descends,
this solitude is such a welcome guest.
Summer breeze is just a lonely ghost
in search of kindred souls with wine to toast.
Moon-sweetened tides along the shore
beckon me to gaze there meek as a lamb.
Darkness looms as an invisible presence
inspiring me to soak in nature’s essence.
Old memories can be so bitter-sweet.
My deepest scars reside in secret caves,
I don’t regret that life has been designed
with multi-colored threads in dark entwined.
If I remember laughter from my days,
I bear the hurts indelibly in my mind
the tears that drench my face to wipe a smile
bestow me strength to walk an extra mile.
The One who is a weaver so divine
knows every thread and color that is matched
to fit into a pattern for my life
gracious it may be or laced with strife.
This icon was as noble as a king
in many ways as wise as solomon
but great was he like Chris Himself
His voice was as soft and touching as a fairy’s
in many ways he was as meek as a lamb
with garments as opulent as if made in heaven
His songs made the world tremble
and his sight made people fumble
in music, he was invincible
He danced beyond measure
his dancing style was unique
the way he arrayed his dresses on him was unique
He was as rich as solomon
for the gold he amassed was beyond measure
he could turn black to white
when he danced, what a sight!!!
and when he monwalked, it was a marvel
when he twisted people were mesmerised.
“King of pop” he earned the title
grammy amonsgt other awards bored him
MJ was a supernatural being
As humans we have flaws
he was no exception
for he was a human
At two scores and a half
our icon breathed his last
bringing sorrow to our world
He will forever dwell in our minds
for he was a man who knew no bounds
for his songs still thrill people
MICHAEL JACKSON, I LOVE YOU
Amid the devilment your dimples devise,
your smile is a mile of wonderful lies.
Your eyes hypnotize, and your silences speak
volumes of verses to someone as weak
as the wreck that I am,
since, meek as a lamb,
I was caught by your charm,
doing myself irreparable harm
to my centers of logic and cool calculation.
You are responsible: I demand reparation.
Out of The Dungeon
By Rick Rucker
A Death necessitated my Escape,
But I knew not what to do, on Love’s uncharted Seascape.
Before I met You, my devastation was Utter,
Wallowing around, like a ship with no rudder!
You’re a steady navigator, that much is clear,
Steered me off the Rocks, both far and near.
Now our Voyage of Discovery is coming to port,
I suspect that we will soon have some new jewelry to sport!
I see us giving up the Sea for dry land,
Dancing among friends, to music, hand in hand.
Your Love has made me more than I am,
Calmed my restlessness, made me meek as a lamb!
With You, I can do Impossible things,
Your Love has taught my Heart to grow wings!
There are those that think me quite daft,
I’ve listened to them, then, at them, laughed!
Instead of a wheelhouse, a cottage I see,
A Red door for you, and Love Everlasting for Me!
If others could know that this is no Ruse,
If they could see my Life, it is what they would choose!
Out of the Dungeon, now atop the Mount,
You’re my Abby Faria, I am your Count!