Walrus tusks are longer than I thought
Length of a yardstick, new and store bought
Females' tusks are much longer; they serve as teeth
Sharper than a copper dagger in a leather sheaf
Categories:
sheaf, animal,
Form: Rhyme
A breeze did slide in under eaves
and stirred inside the air that grieves,
my children grown my dreams have flown,
alone I sit my rocking throne.
My chair in front of window bare,
I look… but husband’s soul elsewhere.
Beneath my feet the floorboards moan,
alone I sit my rocking throne.
Each day I rock the same tic tock
and change not from my sleeping frock.
Once soft my face now turned a crone,
alone I sit my rocking throne.
The length of cobwebs measure time
they speak no secret sing no rhyme,
but air that’s stirred does tend to drone…
alone, I sit my rocking throne.
I pray to rock myself to sleep
as old-age-chains do rust with weep.
These tears from seeds of sorrows sown,
alone I sit my rocking throne.
The run of beads and crucifix
will not unfix life’s mix of tricks.
A rosary my rope and stone,
alone... I sit my rocking throne.
Of God I beg relief from grief,
unbind my mind from mortal sheaf.
This plea endures like sun bleached bone—
alone I sit my rocking throne.
Categories:
sheaf, fate, grief, irony, life,
Form: Kyrielle
A torrent of thoughts
swirls in my mind,
I channel them through
the tip of my quill and
tether them on a sheaf of papers.
There’s a plateau in my heart,
sizzling hot like bacon on a skillet
where a scoop of ice-cream melts
like the sweat of my brow
shimmering like the mirage
in a hostile desert.
Like the vast expanse of an arid land
swept by the wild winds
and overrun by tumbleweeds,
My spirit
wanders the realm of subconscious
with an unrelenting query
that it yearns in vain to grasp.
Categories:
sheaf, dark, passion,
Form: Free verse
“If someone handed you a box with
everything in it- that you had ever lost,
what is the first thing you would look for?”
At once, I stirred with opened eyes!
The doorbell rang- I left my bed
for the front door- found a surprise
on what the big box label said.
“Here's everything you've ever lost-
inside this box for you to find!”
My years of searching with exhaust-
will now relax my worn-out mind.
At once, I chose which loss hurt more;
a treasure gone- no more to hold-
held dear from many years before;
a sheaf of papers, worn and old.
My father's poems- never eyed
all through the years that he was here;
found only after he had died-
and reading them brought on a tear.
For then I knew- I'd carried on
his gift for writing poetry-
and even so, with years now gone,
his talent lives and grows in me.
And now, I have them once again-
no longer searching where they went.
No matter where, the why, or when;
they're back with me, now heaven-sent!
Categories:
sheaf, father daughter, inspirational, uplifting,
Form: Quatrain
A murder of crows observes our approach,
eying my sister's sheaf, worn like a brooch.
Yet, this gilded field of wavering gold
is quite a wonder for me to behold!
This is the first time I've helped harvest grain;
the breezes are warm, with no chance of rain.
And under a pale blue sky, work feels fun,
I love it here in the light of the sun.
I hear the giggles that all sisters share,
but something I see makes me stop and stare.
I see a circle pressed into the wheat,
and I'm puzzled by what's under my feet.
My sisters don't stop working, that seems strange,
then laughter follows a heated exchange.
It turns out it's a nest flattened by deer,
not an alien crop circle; oh dear.
Categories:
sheaf, allusion, anxiety, fantasy, funny,
Form: Rhyme
Eric Rolls 'SHEAF TOSSER'
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Categories:
sheaf, food, poems,
Form: Shape
Look back and smile!
There’s so much to love,
And so much to strive!
Foggy veil melting to unreel and rewind.
Reminiscing the yielding and enriching joyous flight.
Warm treasures glimpsing through ice pellets sleeting from graphite.
Beautiful sheaf of sunlight blooming hope vibrant and bright.
Donning on the priceless gracious new life.
Jingling bells ring in a new stride!
Herald of winters embrace renaissance.
Delighted to see the marks of your proud prance.
Look back and smile you have another beautiful chance.
Dated: 28.12.2022
PRICELESS POETRY CONTEST
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Categories:
sheaf, appreciation,
Form: Free verse
Overpowered by the vicissitudes of life,
The soul can be broken down and beaten
Like a sheaf of wheat at the threshing,
Where the chaff is tossed to the winds.
The good salvaged like grains of wheat,
Leavened and turned into sustenance,
Feeds a temporal home for a whole being
Who wanders through the fallow fields,
After the harvest and longs for eternity.
Written October 13, 2022
Categories:
sheaf, life, metaphor, spiritual,
Form: Free verse
So sorry,
That's not me!
Take back time.
Yet you can't see.
So settled,
The score, the mark.
A take a break.
Yet you can't start.
So simple,
Yet still a stare.
Take a sheaf.
Yet not to wear.
So Sorry,
An On and On.
Take a tear.
Yet still a wrong.
So settled,
That's not you!
Take a heart.
Yet still a view.
So simple,
Yet a mess.
Take a wait.
Yet still a less.
So Sorry,
A clear yet far.
Take a ride.
Yet still a scar .
So Settled,
That's not home!
Take a rock.
Yet still a stone.
So simple,
A tear afford!
Take a settled.
Yet still a cord.
So Sorry,
So on your way.
Yet so simple.
A here to stay!
April 2015
Categories:
sheaf, allusion, betrayal, care, conflict,
Form: Free verse
COLOURS OF LIFE
Umber is the colour of the ferny bracken heath
Broken fronds dishevelled and unkempt
Flaxen is the dry grass laid by wind in tousled sheaf
Sanguine, woodland floor with leaves, life spent
Thus are the groundlings of this changing
land
In winter landscape rough and unrefined
While trees, sylvan patricians tall now stand
Aloof in naked elegance designed
Inequity abounds throughout life’s drama
That some deplore and protest at this end
But would you not accept outcome of karma
When each play you’d select what to pretend
In form and shade profuse life forms abound
And vary without pause throughout the seasons
Their changes though predicted yet astound
Excite a wonder, give existence reason
Categories:
sheaf, life, nature,
Form: Rhyme
Loneliness is lost ------
to see or touch the swing of the paddy
sheaf in the green paddy field at noon,
Or,
when the rain and the sun meet,
the rainbow is visible from the balcony ;
Or
when sitting in front of the window
the fallen story seems alive .
Loneliness is lost ------
In the afternoon see the dynamic view
of the dried leaves on the pond ,
Or,
when the twinkling lights of the stars
light up in the darkness of night ,
Because they are all your silent partner.
Categories:
sheaf, loneliness, lonely, love, stars,
Form: Free verse
Pangs of exile
In the season of the fallen leaf
Pangs of exile, pangs of grief
Should I join the expat web?
I will still receive The Sheaf
Pangs of exile, pangs of grief
I listen to a foreign tongue
The sound goes on the evening long
Oh to hear the name O’Keefe -
Pangs of exile, pangs of grief -
- Murphy, Kelly or O’Reilly,
Barry, Binchy, Casey, Miley
- Pangs of hunger, rhyming monger -
Oh to hear the Dublin scouse
Or to see St Margaret’s house
In Kilbarrack, Dublin 5
All gone now but still a hive
Of people from the past
In Warsaw I may be the last
Remembering………
In the season of the fallen leaf
Pangs of exile, pangs of grief
I can’t go back
I must go on -
Like Beckett
I will go on -
In exile….
Categories:
sheaf, emotions, feelings, time,
Form: Rhyme
Should hearts obey man or God?
This is so dirt simple —
Two sheaf ears in a pacifist pod
Fear thee anthem thunder
more than the
firmament lightning rod?
There’s no question
which one
gets the soul loyalty nod
Doesn’t dove eyes
starry follow the Celestial sky will?
Compassionate commandment
engraved in stone:
A holy decree, “Thou shall not kill”
This passionate pacifist plea
deserves an universal bleat
War paint ain’t peace palette proper
Napalm hope being
dropped from a camouflage chopper
Silo echo prayers,
whisper incensed Arrows
are wavy boasting
Cemetery sepulchre rows
ere manicured revelry neat
Olive branch naysayers
extend digital particles fungi
Angry flow bloodstream
trigger the plutonium release
Obey a loving God, not hateful man,
ought not we?
Bullet dodge thermal extinction plan
is this scarlet ink sob,
pacifist plea
Categories:
sheaf, allegory, peace, spiritual, truth,
Form: Dramatic Verse
I open my bleary eyes,
To the beautiful sheaf of sunlight.
Book lying beside me sighs!
And whooshing sound of papers rant, as they fly by.
Baby! Why you left me without saying good bye!
What do I tell you about my epeolatry?
With people around, I can’t witter for too long.
My lust for the books is just too strong!
Slowly, I scud away at the first chance.
And skulk into books, before anyone’s glance.
Contentment latches the door; the silence is profound.
Books, joy and peace all around.
My books leave me spellbound.
Redolence of papers and ink so sound,
It creeps in like ethanol into my mind.
Fragrance of musty papers takes my charge, as it surrounds.
Inside my self is a loquacious place.
Cogent and scrupulous, solving mysteries with authors pace.
Don’t you think that I am a dolt!
It is just that the story, slowly unfolds.
Yes! I feel deeply, I feel fiercely.
Yes! I emend, I recapitulate and iterate.
Yes! I do read and re read.
Yes! I am a book worm and this is my treat.
08/03/2019
The Book Worm Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Categories:
sheaf, addiction, appreciation, books, crush,
Form: Rhyme
Pages
My book is but an
empty sheaf of pages
unwritten upon
by any hand but my own
Not one jot - not one slip
of the eternal pen
blemishes those glaring spaces
Must my worth be counted
in the coin of whatever realm
others choose for me
I think not
Let me write my own
words upon my pages
My pen will spell out
the essence blind eyes
do not see
Categories:
sheaf, write,
Form: Blank verse
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