When my mother in law died a few years ago
She did so at home before dawn one summer’s morn,
And my wife and I went over and sat around
For a few hours as her dad cooked us breakfast.
All the time her mom’s body lay there
Slowly cooling in the living room.
And what was remarkable
Is that for such a low key and unassuming woman
Gale filled the whole house
With a palpable peace and stillness,
Unlike one I’d ever experienced before.
Today I feel that same kind of blessing is being felt
With the passing of Charlie Kirk,
Except instead of filling a single house
His spirit is filling the entire world.
Let that sink in for a moment.
We’re talking about a once in a millennium kind of soul.
(9/13/25)
Relief
Relief,
A time away from the grief
A moment of peace,
Even if it’s just a piece
Time away from it all,
When you can take time to play ball
Finally just care for yourself,
Even if it’s by yourself
Relief
All the tears begin to fall,
Bright and wet, they tell it all.
Clusters gather, soft and slow,
Dripping down, a gentle flow.
Eyes may sting, a blurry sight,
Feeling things with all your might.
Grief or joy, it might be why,
Heavy heart beneath the sky.
Inside feelings, deep and vast,
Just like rain, too strong to last.
Kindness offered, soft and low,
Lets the healing start to grow.
Moments pass, the storm subsides,
Newfound calm within resides.
Over and done, the wetness fades,
Peace arrives in quiet shades.
Quiet breaths begin to mend,
Released emotions reach their end.
Sorrow lessens, light appears,
Through the shedding of the tears.
Understanding starts to bloom,
Vanishing the shadowed gloom.
Washing worries, fresh and clear,
Xenodochial comfort's near.
Yearning's eased, the spirit bright,
Zenith reached, embracing light.
Slow your breath to calm
pause stop relax to still your mind
conjure your dream vacation place
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Receiving a pie in the crown,
It just might occasion a frown.
But bear well in mind,
One always will find,
The target is never the clown.
There is a party of love and everyone is invited
It’s an open kind of affair,
Come as you are, stay as long as you like.
And while it’s being sponsored by their parents
It’s really a party of the young.
The beauty of it though
Is that this younger generation
With its open, welcoming and civil vibe
Is setting the tone for the rest of this century.
This is the dawning of the Golden Age
Of peace and prosperity
Older people speak of
But which, of course, has to come from the younger.
Right now they are called Gen Z,
But eventually they will be remembered
As Generation MAGA.
(9/12/25)
The Perfume Bottle Sponsor – Craig Cornish – 9-11-25
In 1948 Nina Ricca released a new fragrance – L’Air du Temp. The first spicy floral fragrance. The bottle was designed by Lalique. It was the first perfume based on spice and floral scents. L’Air du Temps means present time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Perfume Bottle
In the quiet of silenced cannons,
And odor of reviled salutes now impotent,
Midst plaster dust and stained souls
Of shattered windows
A flacon rises from worn torn ashes
Caressing the breath of a woman
In present time
As two doves intertwine
Above crystal swirls of sunshine
Reborn in signature scents of treaties.
Flawless guardian
For the newborn bouquet of hope,
Beneath wings of peace,
As a silhouette of scent
Overpowers the stench of gunpower
And ministers to children’s cries for bread
In a kiss from immortality
Accents of new notes for princess and pauper –
Spicy and floral –
Released like doves of peace.
PEACE BREATHES
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
fall day
closes
chill wraps
around
painted woods
moon
keeps watch
the dark cloud ever present
holding a grudge was only hurting me
~ so i let it go
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
If you plant the seeds of love
You'll reap gorgeous flowers of love
If you spray the seeds of hate
Many plants and trees
Will blossom flowers of hate
And you won't like the fate
Nobody enjoys death and miseries
Ugly, dirty and evil flowers
And people with ill manners
Love is the answer
Hate is a toxic cancer
Be positive and make sense
All the time
Is obviously not a crime
Violence is unacceptable
Peace is divine and preferable
Please use good common sense.
Copyright © May 2017, Hebert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
What if the King of the World were accessible
What would you ask Him to do
Would you ask Him for Love, for wealth
for peace on earth, for good health
Would you ask Him to grant you three wishes
as if He were a genie
Would you ask Him to clean up your city
or on filthy scoundrels take pity
What if the King of the World was so close to you
that you could whisper in His ear
Would you give Him some good advice
or just let Him roll the dice
Think about this question
and what you might do
For He stands ready and able
right next to you
completely releasing all moments gone by
softened attention animates the present
choosing with currents of bliss beats to comply
dwelling in peace and just following the scent
of divine magnetism that makes our heart sigh
melding with the flow, witnessing soul’s ascent
fullness in emptiness becoming the norm
we’re poised in stillness at the eye of the storm
When guns sound
Here and there on this soil,
Souls sink like on the Titanic.
Good news for survival—
surfing in from the Soviets:
an answer to WHO’s
long-awaited question,
a cure for killer cancer.
Hats off, Russia
They speak of peace, those frauds with their frozen gaze,
yet their filthy hands worship oil and clotted blood.
They send the children of the proletariat to shatter in the trenches of their greed,
while they pop champagne behind gilded walls.
No reconciliation erases the stench of mass graves.
The justice they promise is a coffin lined with zinc.
The peace they preach is nothing but a rigged bargain,
a pact disguised beneath the tatters of humanity.
Weapons do not rise for fraternity,
they devour lungs, they rip open entrails,
and the corpses thrown into the mud
beget centuries of hatred demanding vengeance.
There will be no hands reaching across barbed wire,
there will be no pardon etched in the darkness of tenebrous passions.
Only memory, like a naked blade,
piercing through the lies of condescending peacemakers.
War is their empire, and they will yield nothing.
We are compelled to smash their thrones, to burn the relics of their arrogance,
so they may finally taste the karmic feast they have served us
through centuries of organized assassinations.
A song is a poem
With rhythms and rhymes
It would be a blasphemy
Not to say it and explain it.
A song is a prose
Put on pause
Intermittently
With various beats and tempos.
A song makes you dance
A poem makes you dream
And a prose helps us examine.
A poem is a classical prose
With harmonic words
And well-calculated rhymes and verses
A poem is really fantastic.
A song makes you live
A poem makes you revive
And a prose helps us survive.
Copyright © December 2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Specific Types of Peace Poems
Read wonderful peace poetry on the following sub-topics:
family, friendship, harmony, inspirational, kindergarten, love, rhyme, unity, world
and more.
Definition | What is Peace in Poetry?
Poems Related to Peace
reconciliation, accord, unity, truce, concord, union, treaty, neutrality, order, armistice, pacifism, tranquility, harmony, composure, congeniality, peacefulness, quiet, sympathy, stillness, calmness, rest, relaxation, lull, contentment,