(C)alling out for his mate
(A)lone in the misty morning
(R)ed wings flap with desire
(D)reaming of love at sunrise
(I)gniting a flame in his heart
(N)ow the blissful day begins
(A)ll the clouds above, drift by
(L)ove falls like rain; she arrives
Heidi Sands
7/10/25
(C)opyright
Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town
Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town
In my little town
“My Little Town” by Paul Simon
My Town
I walk the streets of my hometown,
the prodigal son returned for a visit.
I wanted to see the old place after
forty years away.
My first stop is the place where
the death spiral began.
The old brick building that housed
Johnson’s lingerie factory long abandoned.
Countless generations had worked there
and jobs were plentiful and easy to get..
But government regulations, outrageous union
demands and cheaper labor overseas
caused its demise.
I walked up Main Street, which was a
bustling market place when I was a child.
Now, all that remained were CBD joints
and tattoo parlors and a coffee shop.
First the pharmacy closed, then
Mason’s Department store, followed
in quick succession by a host of
other long-time establishments
as the locals began the exodus
to a new land of milk and honey.
The few reaming locals looked
like ghosts wandering in a lost world.
I’m ready to move on as there is
nothing left but the dead and dying
back in my little town.
Dreaming beneath sparkling skies,
adorned with ice-blue sapphires.
Yearning for an evergreen Eden~
saturated with tender celestial light,
tailored with faith, erasing deceit,
as the rose moon unfurls wisteria warmth,
reviving wilted lilies with perfumed prose.
Wrapped in the reaming
red rustic
ribbons of right and
wrong ,but as
our lives tragically
tremble along
towards their end .
All those
antipathetic
thoughts begin
to brashly
bleed and blend.
Their overwhelming
oceans of
numbing neurotic
notions into
one vital
viewpoint of
vulnerability.
Where they
rationally rush
towards their
ruptured
realizations
that there’s no
need to proceed
in the fight .
As they’ve finally
seen the light.
(Patterned off the famous folk song 'Men of Harlech,' which is in the public domain.)
Men of freedom hear them wailing,
from the truth they’re always quailing,
scared of work or real travailing,
not like free-born men.
Men of freedom stop their screaming,
and their socialistic dreaming,
give them all a much-earned reaming,
all those wokish men.
Slavish souls disgusting,
cultish minds untrusting,
silencing all who dare speak true,
because inside they’re nothing.
Men of freedom don’t surrender,
these fools are brainless pretenders,
cannot tell a him from a her,
not like free-born men.
Men of freedom must hold steady,
keep your A.R.s clean and ready,
when time comes make your aim deadly,
fight like free-born men.
Take your boot and on them impress,
recall sic semper tyrannus,
tyrant scum will all be banished
faced with free-born men.
The ‘elites’ insulting,
they’re pedos revolting!
Living in an endless fear
of free-born men assaulting!
Men of freedom give no quarter
to those who would give us horror,
save your land for sons and daughters,
fight on free-born men.
Dreaming of just you, Red wine bottle with beef stew.
Eating but who knew, And two desserts turned us blue- My how our bellies just grew.
Date Written: 5/18/2021
a/a/b/b/b=5/7/5/7/7
Note: Acrostic Rhyme
5 Place
TANKACROSTIC Contest
Judged: 6/6/2021
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
Filled with kindness
Always gentle and loving
True to his children
Hopeful they will always
Earn respect and be wise
Rejoicing in what is good
Showing others compassion
Dreaming good dreams
And giving his whole heart
Yearning to please a heavenly Father!
A TRIBUTE TO FATHERS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
May 11, 2021
purple haze surrounds
lavandula sky dreaming …
playing hendrix tunes
lavandula...(common name lavender)
is a genus of 47 known species of
flowering plants in the mint family
july.11.2019
haiku-hue
sponsored by: kim rodrigues
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
E-xpect
D-ivine
E-xpression
N-icely
D-reaming
O-f
N-otable
Q-uote
U-nder
I-mpressive
L-yric's
L-ovely
O-ffer
Topic: Birthday of Eden Donquillo (March 19)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Dreaming is something I enjoy,
Remembering though is hard;
Even when I write it,
And though I do try.
My mind says no!
Inner dreams,
Now just,
Gone!
_____________________________
February 21, 2019
Poetry/Acrostic/DREAMING
Copyright Protected, ID 19- 1117-007-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
D-reaming of a fine future
I-s living in your mind;
N-ineteenth April Wednesday
A-ims to let you unwind.
T-o dream the pleasant scene
I-s keeping you from nightmare;
B-elieve in the Almighty,
U-ntil you feel His care.
R-each the glorious goal,
C-rossing the seas and streams;
I-t's inspiring to think
O-f one of your dreams.
JIGGING - REELING
Friday, got that wild anticipated, weekend feeling.
Respite, two days of fun, jigging, reeling.
Ireland, weekend free, looking at the cealing!
Dreaming, still Friday, concealing, appealing,
a weekend with no stock and share dealing.
Yes, Friday a faint memory, on stage, jigging reeling!
#Friday #feeling - #Poetry Contest, sponsored by Silent One
M-oonrise attracts the eyes,
I-t keeps one away from sleep;
L-etting him gaze at the sky,
D-enying the dark so deep.
R-ising of the moon
E-xcites one on the horizon;
D-reaming to reach the sky before the break of dawn.
M-oonrise attracts the eyes,
E-ither of them never closes
N-or turns blind to the beauty
D-erived from the light's brightness.
O-n seventeenth night November,
Z-ealously see what the gleam implies;
A-nother wonder allures the heart, moonrise attracts the eyes.
H-opeful sign of better future
E-manates from faith;
R-aindrops will stop falling,
S-trong storm will evaporate.
H-opeful sign of success
E-vades fret and fear;
Y-es, it knows no worry, as the doubts disappear.
C-hosen people of God
A-re always full
of hope;
N-ever ever do they give up,
D-reaming to win with sacred scope.
I-n spite of bleak horizon;
C-hosen children are always fine;
E-arly nineteenth of July is indeed a hopeful sign.
Another morning filled with sun
Beckons the mind to open where,
Clearing the cobwebs has begun,
Dreaming so many words to share.
Enjoy my tea and my muffins
For this is when I’m most at peace
Grab pen and paper, fun begins
Hoping a new poem will release.
Imbedded in my mind are words,
Just wish I could remember some!
Knocking around, but never heard
Laugh it off, someday they will come.
Many thoughts appear thru the night
Never found with the morning light!
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