Short Pennington Poems

Of all the things I've ever held 
Your hand is quite the sweetest 
It fits so snuggly into mine 
And tingles there in neatness 
As mine tightens so yours does too 
And blends our flesh as one 
Then gentle warmth begins to ooze 
Isn't holding hands so much fun 

 

David Gary Pennington...

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I wrote some beautiful verse last night 
A rhyming loving poem sounding grand 
Oh how the words did flow 
Consisting of elegiac pentameter 
With words of elegant form 
But, where did it go 
It was coming out so beautifully
I can’t for the life of me truly know 
A poetic story does not have to rhyme 
But in growing interest it must climb 
It may be that the poem was so good 
It climbed so high it go lost in the clouds 

 

David Pennington...

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They are rude, obnoxious and boastful. 
They sneer and gossip at my back. 
In their minds they tear at my flesh. 
And beat me with clubs of hatred. 
Crushing my bones and bludgeoning my wholeness 

But this exists only within their anger. 
Seething caldrons of misguided impulses. 
Uncontrollable urges of blame and turmoil. 
But their hearts are full of good and love. 
And truly they are the children of a GOD above. 

 

David Gary Pennington...

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