Short Keenest Poems

Oh glorious sun arising
I see you are a shining
Giving out your warmest glow
Melting even keenest snow

Who knows wherest you'll appear
Maybe on a coastal pier
Or playing hide and seek
Through clouds you'll peak

Your rays on beds will gently warm
Gently you do tease springs form
As all of natures colour comes through
You dry up all the morning dew....

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I hide here at the back
Not the last page, but nearly so
The thick leathery binding which protects me
Is starting to fray and the letters fade

I'm safe up here on the top shelf
And none but the keenest would
Peer beneath this tired, tatty shell
But maybe they would appreciate...

For so many years I have remained unread
I almost fear the moment
When daylight comes
And at last I can sing...

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Thy lips of espresso gold,
convey to me, 
your desperado untold.

Thine eyes for your own,
merriest of forbidden
pleasures, 
to hold.

Your supple smile upon
thine own,
reveal.

Amidst only
to conjure,
to conceal.

Parlay, if I may,
to implore
the keenest sense
of your fulfillment,
I adore.

Gently now, our merriment. . .
embarking upon salutation.
No more our desire,
of infatuation?...

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The Christmas Angel comes each year
To spread around the Christmas cheer
Though the angels seldom appear
They are still there so do not fear
And listening with the keenest ear
You will never ever be able to hear
The Christmas angel standing near
But she will look over those near and dear
As she spreads around the Christmas cheer
Then the heavenly presence we revere
Twill be gone again again until next year...

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The keenest Christian Sermon on Salt 
To a Somalian Moslem in Renault 
That can out-speed a stone from catapult 
But now at a complete halt;
Not from any mechanical fault:
Perhaps, Moslems can from Salt
Messages sift about Man’s fault 
And his waiting judgmental vault”

A still dragging Sermon on Symbolic Salt 
And a Moslem stops sipping his cold Malt
Though in ‘Allah’ precisely dues exalt 
And fellow Mohammedans watching the result!...

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Who knows how and when
Is wrought and shaped the secret hearts of men
Very well veiled from the eye
Of even the keenest spy
But its abundance is rich
To rule over speech
To the detail of sentiment
And its accompanying temperament

Though withholding buried secrets
We could confidently reveal daunting regrets
And all pasts undealt
That remain heavily heartfelt
To a trusted Father in God
Whose approving nod
Is to make you see clearly
The precepts to value dearly...

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