When fire raged and burned it's roof, sun rays fell to forest floor,
And lit upon scraggly flowers once doomed to bloom no more.
Then unharnessed, like wild horses, the shrubs began to fight.
Each year they grew and blossomed, thanking sunshine for it's light.
The rains in spring brought forth rhodendendron's chromatic reds,
Near Redwood towering trunks 'bove where squirrels make their beds.
The rhodendendrons meander like hikers in the hills,
To startle round forest corners with blossoming pink thrills.
Kruse Rhodendendron State Natural Reserve is a park,
A California treasure, a pleasant trip to embark.
While hiking beneath the Redwood trees' scented canopy,
Enjoy this gift of land, enjoy the flowers wild and free.
I showed MOM the trophy our team had won.
She said, "WOW, Congratulations, my son,
How many goals DID you score?"
I replied, "MA‘AM, learn rules more;
You ask DAD, reserve player can't score one!"
Palindrome Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
1st Place
Love is not always reciprocated
Seeming some hearts terminally
constipated –
unable to relieve themselves
and others,
to make lighter many burdens,
the long suffering of less fortunate sisters
and brothers –
yes, love is not only
tender petting,
it is also to help stop daily
fretting – feeling hopeless smothers
love is sinking
wells and tilling fields
giving an extra helping hand
when Nature poorly yields
it is lighting a furnace of warmth
for the aged, by themselves too weak
to battle late hour’s bitter cold
it is seeing gold as not mere glitter
but a wealth that could make life desperate
fuller and fitter
Seek out those children abandoned and forgotten!
Restore a World order that nurtures its vulnerable fold –
Dear God, if love
could only be bought and sold, I would
earn to buy all
give all away free...
My own reserve entirely in Thee
After the greedily laden cirrus' lighten their loads,
a dog day returns to our suburban sanctuary.
As the mercury ascends like a climber captured in a glass tube,
the heath's heady aromas revoke our remorse.
Tangled brier and spiky scrub emit their balm:
a conspicuously redolent cocktail of coconut and cabbage.
Backlit baubles of liquid sunshine dazzle the view,
while defying gravity on their barbed roosts.
Suspended above the sodden, verdant heath, like an ethereal spirit,
another cloud hangs low, as if a subterranean lava lake -
once dormant - has been aroused from its viscous langour.
The transient torrent which incited the tribes to take refuge -
now passed - invites its flock to flood back onto the pasture.
Reserve
When the dam breaks,
there will be no flood.
There will be no rushing water,
to run from.
It has all been drank,
or wasted on pretty plants,
that have no editable value at all.
The people will go thirsty,
then they will go hungry,
in ways they have never gone before.
They will cry for their children,
they will fight for them.
But they will use no weapon at all.
They will talk,
and walk,
and hold signs...
that they can not drink or eat,
until they starve.
Bring more people here,
let the gates open wide,
we don't even want to hide.
We want to tell the world we are "good",
and not "bad" people.
But all people are inherently bad,
and you can not work your way to heaven...
Anger, when there is no other emotion,
to take its place, will reign
on this earth.
Be kind and remember,
we are born just alike.
We are not you and me,
or they are them.
We are together,
in the same place,
at the same time.
Soon we will all be before the throne,
and home, or on our way to hell.
**This morning I had awoken, with this swelling in both
my hands,
And however this had started, I do not have a clue.
I wonder if there are people in my support who
understands,
Is this another symptom, that I will have to go through?
**One thing that will upset me, is losing my ability to
write,
I'd be very devastated, if I could not finish my book.
I swear that this condition, is like a thief in the night,
Disguised up as the Devil, who is nothing but a crook!
**| still cannot believe, how fast this has progressed,
Or how it all began, I honestly cannot see.
I also hate the fact, it's making me feel depressed,
I just think it's crazy that this crap is happening to me.
**So Lord, right now I ask You, to reserve my hands to
write,
So I'm able to inform others, about what Neuropathy can
do.
Have Your angels surround me, as they come to me in
flight,
In this I ask in Your Name, for I dedicate my book to You.
My soul is locked within my deepest thoughts
Behind this face that welcomes most unwelcomed foes.
I shall not trust my innermost secret thought-paths
To the warm, but unsolicited, glances you cast
My way. Neither shall I tell you what I most fear,
Nor what I might like about you should I later be
Enticed to care. First, you must allow me slowly
To come around, releasing my deeply-seated reserve
Of carefully protected secrets, so prudently stowed,
In my own time, so essential are they to who I am.
Then, and only then, will you penetrate the façade,
For I alone hold the keys to my private paradise locked
Away. And only then, will you know me completely
As you will already be, to your surprise, known to me.
Tucked away gently for safekeeping.
Full treasure chest of memories and dreams.
In the back recesses of my mind.
Out of sight yet within arm's reach.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
The Federal Reserve is often confused with the U S Treasury,
so I am here to eliminate this confusion with the utmost of clarity.
The Federal Reserve Is Not the U S Treasury.
It is a private owned central bank that has driven the U S Treasury,
into perpetual bankruptcy.
Who funds the U S Treasury?
The taxpayer, you and me.
We also fund the Federal Reserve weekly.
Federal withholding from our paycheck goes to the Federal Reserve directly,
to bail out governments' financing inefficiencies.
The CEOs and their cronies at the Federal Reserve,
are all enjoying a super rich lifestyle they do not deserve,
provided by the blood, sweat and tears from all of our labors.
Someone recommends a book;
I put it on “Reserve.”
The list is often long enough
To actually unnerve.
Of course, I’m reading while I wait –
A novel from the shelves,
For some just seem to call my name
To advertise themselves.
So I am in the middle of
A story I’m enjoying,
When in my email there’s a message
Just a bit annoying.
The books I have been waiting for
Are ready for me now.
All 3 showed up together,
But I know not why or how.
Which means I have 2 weeks (no more!)
To get through all those pages,
A challenge I can’t meet
Even if every book engages.
Like many things I know, this is
A niggling little glitch,
Another fine example of
Why life is such a ….. stitch!
Your rod is not for signs my brother...
Stop looking for red seas to divide...
It should be the trophy of your bride...
That other sister need not to bother...
The pie between your thigh is priceless...
serving it cheaply to mark a moment
may lead to a lifetime of tearful torment...
Lose not your worth, Your royal badness.
Rash rodents seek sweet holes to plunder...
Let them not mess your milky mountains...
Some pies are pools from filthy fountains...
Let them put your heart and soul asunder...
I really believe that safe sex is sweet...
it makes real relationships romantic...
yet it does not make marriage realistic...
Safe hearts reduce stray dogs on the street.
No sex is really safe outside marriage...
some lovers often turn to lousy losers...
cheaters were one loyal skirt chasers...
Sex cannot save slaves from bondage
A beautiful ride off into the sunset, and your horse
passes through a blooming cherry orchard bordered by cedars;
your leather saddle was rubbed with high-quality tobacco yesterday.
It's a big herbal cherry sun that is setting, and you can taste it,
with a sprinkling of spices, and the satiny union of the tannins are upon you,
so subtle that you wish for more at first; you must be patient as the velvet embrace deepens, insinuating itself deep within you in a silky smooth process, until a final slow-motion fillip of astringency touches the front of your mouth.
The cork was wet and crumbly almost to the top.
Definitely time to drink this wine; wish I had more.
A great wine to drink in solitary contemplation, or quietly, with friends.
*Robert Mondavi - Rest In Peace, man, you died in 2008 at age 94, and you always believed in making great wine.
Tasting Note written in April, 2015.
The mountains with white tops
Are the emblematic
Symbol of the reserves
Visited by the tourists
Acclaimed by followers
Viewed as academic
Global patrimonies
Birds flock in azure sky
Lake is very placid
Clouds are like white cotton
In the sunny midday
With the alluvion
Of the brown gravel sand
In the blue river bay
The green forest fern trees
Serve as a barrier
Protecting the nature
And captive animals
From the mankind capture
In the wild aflutter
That end in quiet nights
Jumbo armadillos
Stroll in the jade pasture
While the big three turtles
Walk in the rock trails paths
Closing the attractions
That amaze audience
In the month holidays
2-12-2016
A passionate embrace of last reserve
Steel tracks taking their twisted curves
Harrowing frights dark of hue
Speed demons singing the blues
Over and over they are off the rail
Careen the cliff and off she sails
Top notch is their deadly reserve
Drops of pain the only preserves
Let the games begin
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