Once well-intended
morning sun alarmed my rise
voices stirred the field
tasks like steady watering —
enlisted day's living work
Then the old gates closed
the pathway seldom walked choked —
soil forgot the spade
plants shrank back for want of care
petals curled back deep within
Left unattended
the garden grows weeds of woe
memory withers —
branches sag beneath own weight
the reek of neglect lingers
Yet the ground still sighs
waiting for hand to return —
the soil lies furrowed
awaiting seeds cast resown
to sprout green in silent spring
Time to grasp the rake
kneel again between the rows
weed the listless out —
let gardening be mind's cure
for hiatus after frost
Categories:
resown, age, growth, old, retirement,
Form: Lyric
It all comes back resown together
sometimes a seam is seen
often it’s invisible;
or once, twice, three times forgotten.
A world rushes in to change
a new or old reality -
not the blue or green globe
but your world -
that reality you create
to dovetail with mine.
When we are not counting
eons slip by in milliseconds
‘Nothing is new under the sun.’
What sun, yours, or mine?
We walk converging paths apart.
Often, ancient, muddy footprints
arrive at a shared future
though they are covertly dissimilar.
The old returns, the new passes away
and it is well,
it is very well
that we do not notice
or choose not to.
Categories:
resown, poetry,
Form: Free verse
A sweetness comes with age,
like fruit that’s finally ripe
A Poet then a Sage,
on this journey into night
A wish distilled from all regret,
its seeds to be resown
A sweetness comes with age
—that buried youth will never know
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
Categories:
resown, age, youth,
Form: Rhyme
Spring is coming, chasing the snow and ice.
My favorite plant thrives in heat, well-known.
Her blossoms, a symbol of sacrifice
for the winter's harshness, she will atone.
Sturdy perennial, roots grow and spread;
she turns her face to the sun when full blown.
Extra fine feature of each prime flow'r head
is infinite, edible seeds, homegrown .
The Dutchman, Vincent Van Gogh entertained
to paint many sunflow'rs oft overblown.
Less known facts, national bloom of Ukraine,
Kansas' state blossom , a smell all her own.
Sunflow'r, a symbol of sacrifice shown
I save some of her seeds to be resown.
written July 4, 2018
contest: Your Best Sonnet 2018, John Hamilton
Categories:
resown, 10th grade, flower, summer,
Form: Sonnet
The mighty warlord shakes his fist and sends his troops to the abyss
Families broken and torn because of an oath that was sworn
Fathers and sons die in vain but no one can feel their pain
Mothers cry as their children are sent off to die
Innocent blood is shed, does no one care for these dead
Sadness grips the heart of man as many a persons blood stains the land
Cries from the public go unheard as the warlord shouts his mighty words
Kill them all he says, make these people pay
The screams of wounded go on through the night begging for the warlord to end the fight
No answer comes from his high up throne for his heart is cold as stone
Only a child dared to face him
He begged for his people
His words so moved the warlord he again shook is fist this time calling his troops from
the abyss
Families are pieced back together after the mighty storm they have weathered
The child is proclaimed a hero
Sides that once wared against each other now call themselves brothers
Fields are resown and homes rebuilt, no longer does the warlord feel guilt
But nothing can replace the loss of life for that is the true price of war
Categories:
resown, warheart, people, child, heart,
Form: Limerick
Oh, how's this work, how to reFrame?
The s p i n I'm in
"I hear your Name and I'm aFlame!..."
In Portraits to arabesques in Castles in Spain
And belles letteres of A. Nin
Oh, how's this work, how to reFrame?
Perhaps a chanticleer, puffed jactate, abreast of whether, vained
For thy meadowLin
"I hear your Name and I'm aFlame!..."
ReSown seeds, reap our grain
Grapes to wine, nary raisin'?
Oh, how's this work, how to reFrame?
A burning untamed
Unassuaged by Verse, unlessen'
"I hear your Name and I'm aFlame!..."
Will girasoles thrive arranged
Or Lilies' parure Daffodils akin?
Oh, how's this work, how to reFrame?
"I hear your Name and I'm aFlame!..."
Categories:
resown, angst, lost love, love,
Form: Villanelle