Lord, please put summer on pause...
Everything is bathed in jade and bronzed.
Queen Anne's lace and curbside weeds,
beatified in the sweet, sautéed sunshine.
Everything is sheened in overabundance-
the aspen leaves are jiving on the breeze.
A cardinal is as plump as an uncut ruby...
for two weeks on- when the sun comes up
it weaves a song with lemon drops
is it taunting me or thanking the good lord?
Lord, please put summer on pause
While I'm still enmeshed in bone and flesh
Within the golden foothills I'm heaven bound and blessed
she had an overabundance of enthusiasm
many tried to get away from her joy
i was not one of them
Don't live in the past
the past cannot be changed
don't spend an overabundance of time
thinking in the future
that's never promised
live in the present
live in the moment
Even in rainy Seattle
The atmospheric river* gives
An overabundance of rain.
*Rivers on land generally flow downhill; atmospheric rivers flow in the direction of moving air created by weather systems. In general, they pick up water vapor from the warm, moist air of tropical regions and they drop the water over land in cooler regions as rain or snow. (https://scijinks.gov/atmospheric-river/)
"Washington residents prepare for possible flooding as ‘atmospheric rivers’ threaten parts of Northwest" Nov. 27, 2021 oregonlive.com
Precaution, VS Fear
By: Tom
3/18/2020
Just from what i see and hear,
an overabundance of precaution.
Can often lead into fear,
and constant hand “washin.”
Reds shoot out from under my skin
infuriating a melancholy world
yellow with presumption
in an otherwise blue mood
Envy fills their void
as I avoid being left out of the light
an oak growing stronger eventhough
the sun has been stolen by greed
The need to spin exceeds
the force of nature and I'm
relegated to rescue not only you,
lost with an overabundance of color
in the darkness, but all that is good
Creating art out of leftovers passed by
Beauty exists in all that meets the eye
The fable man palms do perspire,
Knees inadequate,
Limbs do joxtapose in overabundance.
Purge grazes over the fable man's vestments.
Mother's Italian vermicelli.
Overabundance of Books in Market
****************************
"On the turn,
I've found
an overabundance of books
in the market !
I've heard .......
There characters are being sold -
in some relations,
in some selected installments. ........
Some has filled with reasons.
Some has filled with superstitions.
Some has guided the paths.
Some are seeking the ways.
Some has for equations.
Some has for clarification.
Powerless words on paper
are moaning in acute torture.
Wound of such scratch
that are not coming on tongue.
Some are stumbling
due to anomalies of characters.
Some are shrinking & blushing
as they're too scared with spellings.
As if, buried in the pages,
worn saree of bookbinding.
The middleman is recovered
the desired auctioned amount.
It's the worst crime !
The buyer
becomes offender.
As finally he does confess.!!"_____Durgesh Verma (28/07/2016)
i cannot help that i am a daydreamer on earth
i travel into space to get away from the normal creatures
on my little journey, i discover my head and work to clear it to crystalline
i may be banned from the overabundance of crumpled paper on the alternative planet's floor
however i repay the community with my creative prowess
i guess they accept the value of my sincerity
i just wish that i could get that on earth
maybe then i would not have to come here to find the solace that i desire
then again, a new respect for the the expansion of my mind's eye is what i surprisingly acquire
A gentle touch would leave me reeling
A sweet word would leave me yielding
A hungry look would leave me fantasizing
A warm embrace would leave me smoldering
Sensations on the surface
Nerve endings alive, vibrant
Receptors in overdrive
Overabundance of feelings
Uninhibited response
To a smile, a touch, a word, a nuance of meaning
Body reactions immediate
Melting, softening, quivering, expecting
Set to motion with the bare minimum of provocation
Until….
Until I learned…
A gentle touch can turn demanding
A sweet word can turn demeaning
A burning look can turn charring
Now…
Now sensations have become worn
Unable to detect
True from false
Genuine from fake
Now….
Desensitized I am
To what may be true, real, beautiful....eternal
Words are just a collection of letters
Looks just meaningless expressions
Touches just contact of hands on flesh
My soul still hungry
Bare….untouched….
Cloistered
Are my dreams
My wants
My desires
In the safety
Of my desensitized heart.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I AM A POEM
Imaginative illustration
intricately impassioned
impeccable individualism
important
Accomplished arrangement
ageless authenticity
appraised actualized
alive
Perfection personified
paint-brushed panoramic
poignant paradigms
personal
Overabundance optimized
optimistic omniscienct
oceans outshined
original
Enraptured edition
elevated endearment
effervescent embodiment
exclusive
Magnificent meaning
meritorious muse
miraculously majestic
moral
I am a saint
sanctified by God
through His Son
Jesus
I AM A POEM
Entice the essence of the word
A lexicon of value heard
A luxury of words astute
With salutation and salute
Inside this circle, only squares
And children point with double dares
A solo singer comes in pairs
While stepping down to climb the stairs
I'm sending letters without stamp
A street light stands without a lamp;
Deduct the darkness from my bill
My empty tank too full to fill
A centimeter is no inch
Before the punch it's time to flinch
A baker's dozen has thirteen
And what you saw you've never seen
When I get home I've gone away
I work too hard when I'm at play
Tomorrow is my yesterday
My ferrous feet are made of clay
I win the race when I have lost
Find out the price but not the cost
My brand new plane is highway bound
Square holes I own are in the round
I guess I've got a problem here
I ask for wine and got a beer
I know the words but cannot write
I have my eyes but have no sight
I think it's time to go to bed
But when I do I'm getting up
I did not say what I just said
So pour my saucer in my cup
My cup may be half empty
Written By Dean Masciarelli
Thursday, July 1 2010
My cup may be half empty
And it is hardly ever full
And that’s okay with me
But some day
My cup will over flow
With true love and happiness
And an overabundance of joy
But until then
You will see me waiting patiently
For all of my prayers to be answered
Because I believe with all
of
my heart if it is meant to be
That the good Lord will fulfill
all of his promises
that he has made to me
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