MYSTERIOUS thoughts come at my revery
At times they do appear not every
Sometimes those memories are so great
Sometimes those memories are scary bad
Maybe my life only suffers this fate
MEMORIES mysterious or ribaldry
Those that are hateful, need placed in pillory
Hold onto only good thoughts and emotion
Build your esteem up with meditation
Let love of others and self be your potion
Clearly in my memory,
a moment of discovery,
in spiritual revery,
and I was not alone.
A kid, when I first heard his sound,
with mountains all around,
it was something new I found,
Country Roads had brought me home.
Two hours each way by bus,
eight hours washing pots, and thus,
life was hard, monotonous,
and the days were long.
I was just eighteen years old.
In school, I should have been enrolled,
but in my head, a voice of gold -
I heard Annie's Song.
Those were many years ago,
and I am moving oh so slow.
I don't have too much to show.
My life is almost done.
Too early, you said your goodbyes,
but you help me see it rise,
for my shoulders and my eyes,
the shining of the sun.
I like the smell of rain
That permeates my nose
a little time before miraculously fat drops
start falling on my head .
They bring a joyful feeling that I can not explain.
those clouds have traveled for so long I suppose,
They come from faraway .
They carry laughs , tears, flavors that slide on our rooftops .
The loving sound of kisses , enchanting songs and whispers .
The sweat of lonely farmers , the noise of fishing boats .
Because to me ,each drop of crystal water
brings memory’s life notes .
Wet stories from the past and its eternal trotter .
The never ending process of hydrologic roams .
Imagine if we could, translate the noise of raindrops.
We’ll find in one of them a sweet tale of endurance.
The story of a grandpa and a curious little girl,
all crazed about the hints of any welcomed rain .
Preparing paper boats to set them on gray currents
and hoping that they stayed afloat.
To keep their little happiness
As a forever revery ,
a minimal footnote
that floats inside a circle ,
the circle of rain’s memory .
Milky Way dream spots
and other-worlds engaged me
this earthbound urchin
science fiction plots might stir
a pure childhood fantasy
But golden aura
folks can sense that Christmas treat
their pearl orb tot craves
“sight for sore eyes tinsel rapt”
“galaxies galore.” Mum beamed
My peepers wept dams
at magic flight revery
cosmic distance bridged
telescope a nod to star
bright clusters in the heavens
Family ring glow
spark and madcap stellar oomph
cached image-laden
supernova vault’s gem horde
that souvenir I treasure
How many syllables verified
Date posted ; August 27th 2022
NB This work is dedicated to a toy telescope my parents bought me
If, by chance, the world should end tomorrow
How would you spend the last day of your life ~~
Either in revelry or regret? in jubilation or sorrow?
With time cut short, your day becomes staccato
Apologies for everyone whom you caused strife,
If, by chance, the world should end tomorrow.
Perhaps a visit to a sacred and most holy grotto
To commune with the saints about the afterlife
Either in revelry or regret? in jubilation or sorrow?
No time for entrepreneurial schemes to borrow
No time for the cutting words slicing like a knife
If, by chance the world should end tomorrow.
Interesting, as we’ve no promise for the morrow
Neither breath, nor place, nor space nor heighth
Either in revelry or regret, in jubilation or sorrow.
‘Tis up to us to plow a straight and narrow furrow
To make the most noble, good, and worthwhile rife
If, by chance, the world should end tomorrow
Either in revery or regret? in jubilation or sorrow?
written April 26, 2022
You've always known me as I have known you,
we must've sent glances ten thousand times.
Beyond all our days done, both bright and blue;
regal fates fail in moving my windchimes.
The ringing we wait for, whilst hoping here
when we must still stay many miles apart;
hearing wee whispers fade year after year
like broken halves of one's only true heart.
So I reach to give you a tiny touch.
Will you feel it? Shall you summon me in?
Taste the sweet embrace that you seek so much,
our life as one may finally begin.
Court has known of us and my wanting you -
together, let's see what we can dare do.
Sonnet 113 words 14 lines
A court couple's secret message, circa 1600.
A Patch of Moonlight
A patch of moonlight glimmers in pale shades of ivory
Then drips from feathery pine boughs in soft revery;
Nightingales fill solitude with pure symphonies
Still serenity of blissful stars in nocturnal brillancy.
8-19-21
A tragedy
alone and dying
far from home
all you can hear
sotto voce
in a revery
The Last Post.
sorrows
of the night
dew
falls
tenderly
upon hearts
of loneliness
breath
words
soft spoken
disperse
the light
into
purple
shadows
soft
as honey
in
precincts
of pleasantness
blissful
sweet
murmers
delicate
as nectar
bring
mist to the eyes
loves
elegance
a safe neighbour
fair
to look upon
paler
than summer
grass
sweet flowers
to
treasure
as
the golden
sun
tyranny&
tenderness
of love
manifest
in particles
limpid
living streams
gold
tinted lines
quivering
lustres
of splendour
charm&
cloud the eyes
delicious
laughter
sweet sounding
flare
afresh
from a sacred
grove
caresses
revery
&radiance
bloom
in a whirlwind
of
longing
return favour
to the eyes
embroider
and salute
worship
devoted
to
beauty
We held the ash of paling revery
how fast, through shadows blowing out the night
but then, it faded; lost in times remote
in places where I had been known to you.
But flash and fade, the breach of this union
erased me from glint of ardor that once
embraced a wise and knowing vow; entwined
with bliss, laughter and the intensity
of profound hope you plucked from the earth--
a kind that was difficult to siphon root to stem.
God knew it hurt... but I am learning still
to have my soul ignite and heal away
Best Free Verse in April (not for a contest)
For Laura Loo 4/26/2018
No time for breakfast, snatch a cereal bar,
anger at mislaid keys to the car.
He vents his spleen at anything that moves
she dishes out a look that disapproves.
The children eat their toast, their heads kept down
until the door slams as he leaves for town.
Alone, mid-morning, ploughing through the chores
her revery broke with knocking at the door.
Policemen on the step, their faces grim
mouths never moved, but eyes said 'it was him'.
The first of many tears now glazed her cheek,
she crumpled just as they began to speak.
In case it be your last, maybe do this-
start each day with ' I love you' and a kiss.
I've been going through
Old poetry, my own, a motley
Collection like a dusty attic piled with
Rumpled rhyme schemes
And littered with brightly hued
Scraps of imagery, left half-stitched;
It's an interesting sort of search,
Going through old notebooks
Like wardrobes stacked with
Threadbare cliches and dusty
Scrapbook impressions of a
Younger soul; hazy reflections trapped
Under the surface of a warped mirror
And it is here that I will find
Tucked between the folds of
Outgrown naivete and melodic revery
Hidden, like pressed flowers,
Still-vibrant emotions; memories;
Surprisingly sweet
I wanna talk to you through poetry,
So your soul can take control of me,
And the words that seem to be my
thoughts,
Come from you but wind up in my heart....
Though its me who may be holding pen,
You are free to be the ink within,
Running slow enough to leave a trail,
That its close enough to be
inhaled..Through the tip of what's eternity,
As you grip and touch what's burning me,
You become the author I intend,
To invite the theme that we commend...
And any word that seems to be misplaced,
Is observingly upon your face,
Not in anger but in revery,
Making love that's hidden cleverly...
So the paper that I'm writing on,
Becomes a place for us to lie upon,
Talking softly so you know its me,
As I love you through my poetry...
ghosts of the world befriended me
a silence borne of secrecy
ghosts of the world befriended me
to share in their love of revery
ghosts of the world are blind to me
comments section all I see
ghosts of the world are blind to me
though they call me family
ghosts of the world won't hear my plea
we live and die by our own decree
ghosts of the world won't hear my plea
mired in blah mediocrity
ghosts of the world do not live free
attention seekers' comment spree
ghosts of the world do not live free
a silence borne of secrecy
Levity from the pain of a love that was never meant to be
within the portrait of our fillial destiny
was what you granted to me while wanting nothing in return
but affinity of hearts for the lesson of love to earn
such moments when we descry our children laughing in warmth
of sun;orchestrating celebration of marriage to flesh and air;
of God's revery upon their souls for us to share
through grace of senescence until our final breaths are taken
for to breathe eternal life into our souls within a world
where the entity of love capitulates our force amidst His embrace.
Circle the 1st letter of the 1st line,circle the 2nd letter of the 2nd line,3rd letter of the 3rd
line,4th letter of the 4th line and so on until it spells out the name of a special woman.
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