Flew home from vacation
(Glad my flight was not delayed)
And started baking cookies
For a promise had been made.
Tomorrow night starts Chanukah;
Tradition thus decrees
That my grandma’s age-old recipe
Be trotted out to please.
I counted on those cookies
In my childhood every year,
So each December it was
Guaranteed they would appear.
My grandson asked about them
So before I went away,
I made the dough and froze it;
That’s the reason why today
I hastily unpacked and then
Began to prep and bake.
A promise to my grandson
Isn’t one that I would break.
Camaraderie that please
Hymns released in penning
Essence of writing
Memories that linger
Insights without stinger
Sceneries projected and displayed
Thoughts delivered, not delayed
Revival of inner soul
Your offering in a bowl
Oxygen that resuscitates
Flows through the body and enervates
Poetry that lasts
Over the years that blasts
Elements of Chemistry
Touching the lives of many
Resonates in artistry
Your voice in honor of humanity
When the author of forever sang
his serenade,
‘twas longing in a virgin’s heart,
the strings he played.
So liltingly and stirringly
did words cascade,
they conjured scent of rose bouquets
in serenade.
Of everlasting love he crooned
in serenade.
Bliss never is inopportune.
His lure was laid.
As sweet refrains flowed through her veins,
the vow he made
was happiness without an end
in serenade.
Upon the troubadour who sang
the serenade,
she smiled, led him by the hand
to grassy glade.
And there beneath a blushing sky,
beguiled maid
succumbed with heady soul that rang
with serenade.
The author of forever, who
croons serenades,
woos the maids, then into the
horizon fades.
His lyrics penned are fiction; he’ll
be not delayed
from moving on, oh vagrant bard
of serenade.
Posted 5/30/2021
NA for Charlotte Puddifoot's Open Poetry 5 Poetry Contest
for Brian Strand's All Yours(Jun 8) Poetry Contest
In silence she loved him
In silence he obeyed,
No words were spoken,
So love is not delayed!
In silence he asked her,
In silence they danced,
words did not matter,
their tapping feet talked.
In silence her life with him,
In silence their romance,
No words between them,
Much said with a glance!
In silence she wept for him,
In silence she mourned,
Her tears spoke for her,
“You are the one I adored!”
Tepid water from the bathroom tap
Washes my face with a flanneled slap
The water trickles between my fingers
My reflection in the mirror now lingers
Whilst I study the dampened brow
My face portrays the years unbowed
The morning’s call a morning news show
Tells me a lot more than I want to know
Microwaved wheat- bix and milk spooned
As I ponder the morning’s gloom
No anticipation of the coming day
Just a routine hum-drum not delayed.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Mother Earth has taken thou which heaven giveth
I dare not repeat, retreat, seat, top or beneath
Hurricane charges, yet feather-light heavily troubled soul
Soleless, yet aloof stands
Oh Earth! Oh mother! Oh murder! Oh death!
Cold are thy feet
Hold mine wrist
Chide mine drift
Oh scold! Bark! Shout! Speak! Shake! Move! Mother!
Farther towards father, thee sail
Further from mine brother
Broader to lands...spade, an aid
Not delayed that mine rite be paid
I sink into the steaming bath and soak my cares away,
A glass of wine to cure the pain the damp brought on today;
No screaming son to demand my time, today is just for me,
A book is all I need to be as content as I can be;
I call the local pizza place as the water cools and bubbles fade,
I order up a large for me and hope it’s not delayed;
Soon the delivery man is on his way with a heavenly pizza pie;
And I intend to enjoy every slice, just me, myself and I;
The rain is coming down in torrents as I snuggle up on the couch;
I slowly start feeling more like me, instead of Oscar the Grouch;
I turn on my favorite movie, the one I’ve seen a thousand times;
I enjoy every second as I relax, feeling sublime;
My family will be home soon and their needs I’ll have to tend;
The sun sinks lower in the sky, as my perfect day draws to an end.
It passes by us while we stand aside
It's always in a rush and on the go
If not careful it will take all your pride
It's our worst enemy, we all should know.
This criminal is referred to as time
It can be watched and kept, but not delayed
Letting him unnoticed is our worst crime
Once he leaves he cannot be bought or made.
His value is much more than that of gold
The worth of him is sometimes overlooked
Young he remains, but you will still grow old
Educator he is, without a book.
If used wisely he acts as a friend would
Always there and supporting as he should
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