Short Molehill Poems

Then there was this big girl called Jill
Who yearned to be seduced by big Bill
She laid herself on the ground
And to her horror she found
She’d made a huge mountain out of the molehill...

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The gray sky stifles me
with it's thick fog
of underlying epistles,
causing my soul to shudder

I feel as heavy as a mountain,
but I'm only a molehill
on the edge of earths bend

my hands, he says
are too small
to write big
so I stick to the surface
and scribe
of faint occurrences
that define naught

because he's fearful
of my poems truth...

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Though you call me molehill,
Still I shall attain my height.
The more refuse you deposit 
The higher and mightier I become.

So when you blow up your dust
Or sling your wicked mud
And in your joy on me they sediment;
Mock me not I do not see mud nor dust
But another layer of  my enviable size.

Your garbage is by no means hurdle,
It is the thrust to my destined height.

Songs of power,
Something inside so strong.
8/11/2015....

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M-ake a mountain out of a molehill
I-n May thirtieth warm day; 
C-ome and treat a trifling matter, 
H-aving a great value in any way.
E-vade belittling the ants, 
L-earn a lesson from them instead; 
L-ook! they can carry bigger things in unity, 
E-ven if they have no king or head.

C-onvert garbage into gold, 
A-void disparaging anyone at will; 
C-reate an asset out of a liability, 
H-ave to make a mountain
O-ut of a molehill....

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