"The World is Having Wash-Day"
By Rachel H.
The world is having wash-day
And good old-fashioned showers
Have come to rub the smudges off
And freshen up the flowers.
The world is having wash-day,
And in the new-scrubbed sky
The raindrops fluff the cotton-clouds
And hang them up to dry.
The world is having wash-day
And all creation stops
To have their faces scoured
By the friendly silver drops
The world is having wash-day
and a cleansing cool and deep,
And soon will put on Autumn robes
before it's winter sleep.
For five long days I’ve been snowbound.
My home with blanket pulled around
Is quiet as the distant hill
That nestles in its white surround.
My world so very still.
No small birds trill to break the spell.
All vanquished with the flakes that fell.
Electric voice immobilized,
Marooned in solitary cell,
My world strangely disguised.
No noisome birdsong to intrude
On absolute of quietude.
No foot on yielding snow has trod.
Suspended in rare interlude
Alone, alone with God.
The snow remover coming through,
The telephone and power crew.
Although their efforts I applaud
I miss the peaceful time I knew
Alone, alone with God.
By: Joyce 12/30/02 We all won first in this one.
In a muddle
In a puddle
In a world made of dismay
On a rock in the middle a dragon fly prayed
He was battered
He was tattered
He was in a terrible way
From the things in his heart he tried not to say
All the confusions
All the delusions
All the the emotions he couldn't convey
In his muddle of a puddle in this world of today.
THE UTOPIAN DREAM BABY
She is in darkness and beautiful
What I dream of my Utopian dream baby
In the future I wish to see her born
As a very big mansion of mine on the moon
My own supersonic airplane to Heaven
A long bridge across the continents
To link all the oceans
New York to Banjul, Cape Town to Antarctica
Island of Lampedusa as a World Trade Center
Not as a nest for asylum hunters anymore
Sahara, Kalahari, Gobi, Himalayas as green belts
Not deserts with open arms anymore
All wastes to be biodegradable, renewable,chewable
Every rooftop to be garden
Our carbon dioxide to be inhalable perfumes
This is the worlds wild ambition
My Utopian mystic dream baby
A wish she comes early
To make the world a better home
Where we shall live like human Angels
Worried not of worries
In peace, in glory.
Dusk,
dressed in
mauve feathers,
bared pink shoulders,
with come-hither snare,
touches the foolish Sun
with a spectrum of red lips…
Up so many stairs they will trod,
shutting the world alone in the dark..
New lovers who stroll through gardens of night
And as nightingale and the crickets cry
Spurned world sets her brain adrift to weep
putting out the lights of her eyes
shuttered in forsaken bed …
Crescent moon stands vigil
Until capricious
Sun, with fickled
breath,… breezes
in with
Dawn
For Nette's "Touch Me" contest (Dusk) by Carrie Richards
Beneath the leaves and branches hanging over me
I take time and look up above
a different world lives up amongst the leaves
Bird, bees, and butterflies, a variety of species.
With each new dawn begins a crisp new day.
I hear, singing, chirping from miles away
Bees, wasps, insects galore, going about their business,
Spreading pollen to all the flowers
Seeking out nectar, in flowers so sweet.
The birds, fly swiftly, from branch to branch
The air comes alive with chirping melodies,
the butterfly flutters without hardly a sound.
As the day progresses, a lot goes on
The insects come to feed, on leaves or bark
crawling endlessly, always on the search for food.
As dusk begins to fall and the sky is turning red
When the world is sleeping, with darkness of night
Life still goes, and there is movement
Under the pale moonlit night
Life goes on beneath the leaves and branches hanging over me.
Someone in the World can run 100 meters
faster than any other in a competition
and it is all about tenths
on an more than billion year old Earth
which also moves in an orbit
but not for to beat a world record
and get one new glittering prize for the collections
this is a poem about to be best in the World.
How can so much beauty go unnoticed set plainly before our eyes
While no beauty amongst man’s creations can equally compare?
Mother Nature at her best provides constantly, serenity for the soul
On this arduous journey undertaken, all weary souls yearn for rest
They thirst for a connect with essence, not a material world
Sit and observe butterflies dance amongst an assortment of blossoms
They perform for your eyes only; in the ever changing moments of time
Feel the warmth of radiating peace as it explodes within your soul!
With not a care or worry in the world to distract from the warm golden day
Lovely wings flutter gaily, dressed in finest, like guests at a feast
Where hostesses present richest nectar from the array of wondrous delights
Served in a divine atmosphere made so by fragrant perfume
They fulfill a purpose of joy delivering which sets the soul aflame
With fire that burns steadily, begging to commune in kind
And if you watch very closely, your heart and mind attuned
You can hear in peaceful silence
The sweet song which their essence sings
~*~
Under the starry sky,
Where my heart lay still and silent,
Peering above the world with love and kindness
Hearing the heart beat of mother earth
listening to her cries and howls everyday
For what she see's
The misery, the pain
That she has to bare, watching all those who lay above her
Violence, murder, and more to come
Makes my heart, my soul fearsome
Makes all those who where before us overcome with sadness and grief
What the world has become is not what lord created
Not for are life to be ideally spent-ed.
My inspiration can be seen by all,
Sitting there trying to inspire all.
It will only full fill this task it seeks
To those open minded and not diseased.
Diseased by the thought of money and greed,
Ruling the world, trapping it at it's knees.
When the world sees the end, it will long to be,
Inspired by my inspiration before the world is freed.
-Eddie Cox
You were under the dirt so deep that you didn't even know that you were there.
After many days and nights of rain you still did not appear.
One morning the sun came and warmed you and you began to sprout.
Seven mornings later you poked your needles out.
Then came a new world of warmth and light, and a nightly darkness.
In this nightly darkness were stars of bright whites shooting across the sky of night.
For spring has come and you have sprung into the world of growth.
Once a seed and now a tree, life leaves more for the eye to see.
I know for I am the pollen in which you once knew, before you were a seed.
And the air in which we once breathed we now breath again.
For now you are the tree in which beams above all in the land, I am the flower who admires
all those above.
You my tree are above the rest.
Above the land is a sky of blues and grey, the greens are the fields of which we stand.
For all that is below and up above are all connected with love.
A ground so deep and a sky so high nothing is for sure but I and my.
Copyright@3-2010 MaryMMcShirley/Kilker
Sickle moons have shone above me
In the dark of night,
Standing on the mountain edges
Writing by their light.
Fall with eagle wings of colour
Soared the starry skies,
Called its sickle moon of copper
To enchant my eyes.
Winter passed with silent footsteps
In one silent night,
left the world a stainless canvass
And a moon of white.
Spring woke as an early blossom
Blooming in the snow
never was there such an artist
Made a green moon grow.
Summer, daughter of the morning
Let the world behold,
As her fingers formed the perfect
Sickle moon of gold.
So the seasons passed before me
Still I stand and write,
In the dark on mountain edges
Sickle moons my light.
The mad world of this generation,
it's hard to win
not because it's bad
but how people behave,
and the way they think.
It's bad to be negative
to others whom you believe
that can try to change the world.
This world we are,
it needs unity and peace
because it's like a ball
which can rotate once to make us cry!
Please don't laugh
to those who strive to live
because today is them;
and tomorrow is someone else.
I say learn the world.
You were under the dirt so deep that you didn't even know that you were there.
After many days and nights of rain you still did not appear.
One morning the sun came and warmed you and you began to sprout.
Seven mornings later you poked our needles out.
Then came a new world of warmth and light, and a nightly darkness.
In this nightly darkness were stars of bright whites shooting across the sky of night.
For spring has come and you have sprung into the world of growth.
Once a seed and now a tree, life leaves more for the eye to see.
I know for i am the pollen in which you once knew, before you were a seed.
And the air in which we once breathed we now breath again.
For now you are the tree in which beams above all in the land, I am the flower who admires
all those above.
You my tree are above the rest.
Above the land is a sky of blues and grey, the greens are the fields in which we stand.
For all that is below and up above are all connected with love.
A ground so deep and a sky so high nothing is for sure but i and my.
copyright@3-2010 MarymMcshirley/kilker
Better the world has them, than not,
Irrespective of allergies and simple human ignorance.
Rightly, nature can claim her place,
Directly above us, next to us, all around us, if she wants to.
She has the freedom to choose.
And she places herself in our daily lives,
Never letting us forget her presence,
Despite our growing lack of appreciation for her.
This used to be her world, after all,
Her creation and destruction were the only rules here then.
Evolution has a history. Life has an origin. We should remember that.
Before buildings and industry and civilized society,
Every man was a part of nature, was a part of her world.
Every man was born as wild as the birds and the bees.
So, let us share this world wisely.
**For the Birds and Bees Contest**
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