The door to my heart wide open
Perhaps if l had just left it ajar
All these words now unspoken
Your so near but yet your so far
That day that l had awoken
When gone not even a tarra
I gave you my love, a token
As thought we were on par
Times l wishe'd we had spoken
Now l don't know where you are
Seems again my heart is broken
And whats left just a scare
Spare of moment idea came from another write called shatterd written 2014 and 2022
Family is the place where my people are
I carry it in my heart even if I may be far.
A sweet sanctuary where we roost and rest
A lovely abode, more than all mansions blest.
After the day’s toil, it is to family’s shelter we retire.
A simple dwelling with not even a palace on par.
A place of love when in joy or grief we are together,
Where we can be as we are, with no pretenses ever.
Here with love’s leavened bread, we are fed
Where each member is bound by unity’s thread.
Fruit salad is my favorite dessert
Rich assortment of varied fruits
Uniting sweet and sour tastes
Incredible treat for every palate
Tailored to suit to the tastes of young and old.
Slices of mangoes, apples and seedless grapes
Aromatic oranges and strawberries
Layered with sugar syrup and topped with ice cream
Amazing concoction of textures and colors
Delicious and yummy with nothing on par.
Without the Light, darkness descends
blinding the minds and hearts of men
foolish words and twisted thoughts
truth and error are tangled and tossed.
Prince of darkness spews his lies
“do what is right in your own eyes”
down the wicked path of deceit
away from God, His truth to seek.
Sacred sanctity of new life
becomes a nuisance, source of strife
abort the child, call it their right
an ugly evil, horrible sight.
Fresh flowers are the children’s hearts
immoral lies are poisoned darts
to change their sex, not be as they are
is against God’s plan, always “on par”.
Bitter the apple, once tender and sweet
endless our strife, til the Savior we meet
which path to tread, be it narrow or wide
the one to life, or condemned to die?
I found someone new to light my smoke.
I found someone who would not like a toke.
I found someone who treats me as no joke.
I found someone who is never as broke.
I found someone to forever replace you.
I found someone who proves only he will do.
I found someone with love for me overdue.
I found someone who is always more true.
I found someone who is better at guitar.
I found someone who doesn't live too far.
I found someone who doesn't leave me ajar.
I found someone who you'll never be on par.
I found someone who loves me for just me.
I found someone who knows enough to see.
I found someone whom with I always agree.
I found someone who lets me always be free.
The Nordic Tribe
There is a movement of Scandinavians
going to the South of Europe, they have their church,
cafes and shops selling the type of food sold in
the North. The Spaniards, say, accept and ignore them
because these strange northerners came here for
The sun does not take anyone’s work.
You can call the economic refugees; it is cheaper here
and that also keeps the heating bill low.
The people of the North dislike refugees coming to their
country, a place to live, and they protest loudly.
One day, when the economy in the south is on par with
the Nordic one, who will leave, or seek other shores
where they can live as kings among the lesser
The Northerners are racists by nature, but do follow
the money and its fluctuations, and they can
See the local people where they have temporarily
sought shelter as foreigners.
The chase after door was ajar.
From window to window, that far.
The buzz in my ear,
The fly needs to fear.
The whiz of my swatter on par.
“I’m hit,” says the fly, out of steam.
Is it truly dead or a scheme?
Over and over…
its eyes ice over.
I suck up the fly with air stream.
Dear Dad, you’ll be happy to know
the fly you let in, had to go
The show he put on -
Its buzz, it is gone.
It's buried in the bag - a John Doe.
Mine soul's innermost essence is that of a fallen star.
Mine origin is elsewhere out there in the cosmos very far.
Mine universal love has always been more than on par.
Written: March 22, 2025, for contest sponsored by Craig Cornish
***********************
In the heart of my kitchen spices exude their aromatic allure
a harmonic blend of flavors coddiwomples mute grief. . .
cimmerian saudade in emeritus pickles, a nostalgic taste
longing for a whiff of jasmine s p e c k s. . .
the acridity of blue cheese, the poignancy of bygone days. . .
lavender aromas snip from vessels of proclivity
hidden under an ominous cloud of r e m o r s e
on par with brimstone-soaked steam,
harmony strives to alleviate concealed pain
pleading palms to purge passed-over prose
as seclusion seeps still as a slow-spreading sickness…
Scathed by sadness solitude simmers silently,
In this mixture, marvelous magic manifests for mending
spicy ambrosial nuances partake in a gracious w a l t z
pain intermingling with delight
a buffet embellished with dishes of acrid herbs,
the core character intertwines with previous fails
textures and fragrances intertwine
to create a tapestry rich in pain and d e l i g h t,
harmonizing sadness and joy in life's tangled web.
Cinnamon dreams aren’t spun with sugar;
Far too spicy for an ounce of sweet,
they are swirled with a magical purr;
Hearing buttery speech you’ll infer
it’s much more than a sumptuous treat;
Cinnamon dreams aren’t spun with sugar;
Not too much glut is what you prefer;
On this diet you’re able to cheat,
they are swirled with a magical purr;
Somewhat of a high-end connoisseur,
their taste is on par with the elite;
Cinnamon dreams aren’t spun with sugar;
All natural, authentic, and pure
a label void of any deceit;
They are swirled with a magical purr;
Hit with a viral spike? Here’s the cure:
Keep it disarming and yet discreet.
Cinnamon dreams aren’t spun with sugar,
they are swirled with a magical purr.
I seek peace within the silence & find joy
inside the noise
Both are deafening in a way but the vision is
sharpened as they're on par
Some scars will drift toward the surface once
true immersion has been employed
The distance between opposing poles is close
but oh so far
The inner world is liquid in a sense with various
waves of liquid thoughts
Your malleable dreams solidify based on strength &
the intent
Some nightmares can slip between the cracks
& manifest if not caught
The law cares not which side you sit but there's
no riding on the fence
I'm convinced we're thoughts in God's mind
with the world being his brain
He manifests in different ways as various versions
of himself
We were made in his holy image & we create more
of the same
Everything is a thought coming from you or someone
else's inner self
Peace comes when you accept aspects of the self
that innately have been ingrained
Go with the flow & ride the wave until you've reached
a higher you
Don't swim against the current & waste your time
for opposing self is against the grain
Seek peace in the noise that silence brings & by
listening you'll hear the truth
Rainy day today
Rainy day Sunday
Sunday on par
Sunday too far
Far better now
Far to go
Go with wind
Go with breeze
Breeze dries clothes
Breeze dries hair
Hair curls softly
Hair curls tight
Tight rope walker
Tight rope act
Act one action
Act one scene
Scene from train
Scene from ship
Ship sail seas
Ship has captain
Captain steers ship
Captain flies plane
Plane glides in
Plane takes off
Off we go
Off to market
Market sales on
Market price war
War is unpeaceful
War is evil
Evil isnt good
Evil is not nice
Nice is sweet
Nice is better
Better is fortunate
Better is precious
Precious is valuable
Precious is priceless
Priceless is art
Priceless is good health
Health is important
Health is imperative
Imperative is urgent
Imperative is pressing
Pressing is ironing
Pressing is necessity
Necessity is Blitz
Necessity is fine
Fine.
Blitz
She's like the night, a lampshade lit across the room
also a rose in a summer garden always ready to bloom
She's like a thousand stars surrounding the moon
a celestial scene of beauty here then gone too soon
Ink Empress of the site she comments like an Angel
always kind and always perceptive she enables
Ink Empress of my heart, you make me grateful
for you read my poetry but, you never label...
You are a cyber friend from afar a leading star
a Paridot of the sky with a hue one cannot mar
Without soul blemish you always win by far
for your kindness and gentleness, is on par
Ink Empress of the night you contain so my sight,
that even the quill of a bird, can see your light.
Written by: Your Mystic Rose
***
This is a tribute to a dear poet who always makes us feel at home,
and if you haven't read her poetry yet, please drop by her
page and read her, she's one amazing lady.
High up shines the moon with an entourage of stars
Its shimmering rays like silvery gleaming bars
Come, sliding, slanting, and crashing down,
Making the sky and the earth in loveliness adorn
Moon, you are the unrivalled queen of the night.
With your charm, the world you greatly delight.
To catch a glimpse of your lovely, luminous face
To the high heavens, we raise our eager eyes.
In the quiescent quietude of a tranquil night
In young hearts, love sparks you ignite.
Your shining visage greatly thrills every heart.
“As the misty moon rides high," our sorrows depart.
The young and the old fall under your mesmerizing spell
We feel your aura, though in the faraway sky you dwell.
In the heavens, we can sight no other sphere on par,
And in elation, we whisper – “How beautiful you are!”
Hey Giraffe, I wonder how tall you are!
In height no other animal, on par
You're the tallest of all seen so far
Though not popular, to me you're a star
Some think you are lean and lanky
But I love you as you're never cranky
None can accuse you of being whacky
Shall I call you by the name Jackie?
You can reach up to any tall tree
Everywhere you can roam free
On flatlands you're rarely seen grazing
With your long neck you're amazing!
Love to watch you with your head up in sky,
Chewing green leaves stationed high.
Flanked with a coat of tawny spots,
Skillfully God has assembled your parts.
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