Short Roundel Poems

economic
fear overwhelms  hearts with distress.

economic
boom--congress promise the public.

yet their debates often digress
to issues that are rather less 
economic....

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Poetry in motion,
Is more than a notion,
Is more than a quotation.

Poetry in motion,
Is for more than one nation,
Is for more than one situation.

Poetry in motion,
Is quite an inspiration, 
Is quite a realisation....

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You should not fear,

though their brawls are so unyielding.

You should not fear,

though the deadline is very near.

Congress will raise the debt ceiling,

despite your skeptical feeling.

You should not fear.


**Roundelet contest (CORRECTED WITH NEW RULES)...

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I am

      I am

              the source

the source
         of all
               your
                    need

yesh u a
    
         yesh u a
   
                in
  
                    deed

**Jesus the head(source)of all in His church,mariage and family....

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We climbed the fence
but I must say
in our defense

it seemed a good idea

but on that day
childhood’s pretense
said “it’s only play”

a dog immense
not trained to stay
reinstated common sense

it had seemed a good idea


©3/1/2019

Writing Challenge, Feb 2019, Roundel Form – Poetry Contest
Dear Heart - sponsor...

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Red moon rising scanning below
Seeing all, keeping secrets close
Nothing in the night it won't know
Red moon rising

In a haze just slightly morose
To caws of a lone calling crow
Clouds sweeping to briefly engross

Hue in the sky of a fire show
Giving lookers an eerie dose
Wonders along with eyes to grow
Red moon rising...

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Lose antennae?  I’m a beetle!
Not one bug in Aleghenny
(at least, none you’ll ever meet’ll)
lose antennae.

Luck with chicks? I won’t have any!
Directionless, centripetal,
wireless wimps are ten a penny!

What now? Curl up? Adopt the foetal
position? Move to Kilkenny?
No proud pest in any street’ll
lose antennae.




...

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On the sharp side of a raindrop
I felt the ice as I fell through
The deceiving of a cloud top
On the sharp side

Not fragile in the midst of blue
This toiling hailstorm workshop
A sudden jarring breath I drew

Yet places I would never swap
Plunging toward the earth, I knew
It’s not here me or rain will stop
On the sharp side...

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Out my window, just out of reach
Where I can see but cannot go
Wanting to learn from what will teach
Out my window

Through panes of glass no pain to show
The other side so close to breach 
When it opens, one day I'll go

Outside a forest, sky or beach 
Soon I can be there toe to toe
Swap my reflection I beseech
Out my window...

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Who am I to whine and complain
About things I cannot change,
Nor think ill of those who obtain
Who am I?

I must admit I find it strange
Some do not hesitate to cause pain
To others, I think, in exchange

For personal and political gain.
I find other’s lives I cannot arrange
So think of them having only half a brain.
Who am I?...

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To be so rich that we can buy 
whatever we desire to
They'll envy us, who just scrape by
To be so rich...

We'll lust and love, just me and you
What need our souls to edify
With pleasure's bliss, our rendezvous...

Do I detect a faint soft cry
of prayer unread from empty pew
The profligate sure mocks life's why
To be so rich......

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God Hung in our sky a circle of fire,
And an orb the color of a pearl
For us to admire.

God Hung in our sky
Clouds to add to our colorful world
Which I aspire
To understand how God has each in its own whorl.

It wasn't in its entire
Until God added the stars to the twirl
They added the sparkling attire
To what God Hung in our sky....

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The artist paints. Resplendent scene.
On a mirror of liquid gold,
Swims the regal swans so serene.
The artist paints.

A new story is to unfold,  
Sun joins the sea with a glazed sheen.
Nature is a sight to behold.

The golden orb, no longer seen.
Art shows twilight's colors so bold.
Brightly vivid and ever keen.
The artist paints....

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Carousel inn on highest peak,
Round and round they quickly spin,
Beacon invites as we speak,
Carousel inn.

Tent for a carousal din, 
Memories lost they seek,
Floating feets under Natures basin,
Festive aura sound and reek. 

Flying with the spinning wind,
Emotions fast and thick,
Carousel inn.

by Danesh Morgan
on 3th August 2013...

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A lovely vision in a bonnet
  Her golden braids a-dangling down
Her rosy cheek with dimple on it
  The fairest maiden I have found
Her slender waist, my hand upon it
  Devoted to her beauty bound
A lovely vision...

If this tiara, she would don it
  The populace would raise a sound
Proclaim her queen of verse and sonnets
A lovely vision...

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I dream of a house, near the stream
deep in forest, with deers and bees
wavering through wildflower regime
evening whispers a rustling breeze.
with mystic clouds drowning moonbeams,
in avenue of verdant trees-
I dream of a house
on a hill, a castle supreme,
warm fireplace, lullaby appease
till the coffin ends self esteem,
I dream of a house....

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I'm born to kill.  My name betrays
brutality in each grim ton.
I'm all my moniker portrays.
I'm born to kill.

But can I stop what I've begun
as my great appetite obeys
a blood urge?  Can it be undone?

Will once I learn to change my ways?
Will I break through to see the sun,
so, my genes won't say all my days -
I'm born to kill?

Image 5...

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Image : 3
In water dark, I learn to drown
A silence colder than the sea
The ghosts I fled still pull me up
In water dark

He haunts the edge where I should be
A memory I never chose
Still carves his name inside of me

He finds me gasping, cold, stripped bare
Each time I hide, he leaves a mark
I bleed unseen in wounded air
In water dark

...

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I sat upon a stair
and saw a little man;
he smiled, but oozed despair.

A sad and lonely guy.

I didn't like to stare.
I waited for my gran,
and hugged my teddy bear.

He said it wasn't fair;
it didn't go to plan...
and then he wasn't there...

A sad and lonely guy.  

A childhood memory, written 13th Feb for Constance's roundel contest...

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Gliding on waves, the evening sun,
Imparts glowing shimmering hue,
As the misty evening is spun,
Gliding on waves.

Water adores the misty blue,
Sprinkled with bits of love and dew,
Hope and dreams for the life renew.

Under the sky, the world is one,
The sun shines upon, leaving none,
For birth of new day has begun,
Gliding on waves.



...

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The things I do for what I love; 
Passion has left its residue,
a shine I cannot get rid of; 
The things I do;

Staring wide eyed at the preview 
fiction could never script this stuff; 
Believe me, the stories are true;

Hit my limit then I call it’s bluff  
‘Do not enter’ I walk right through 
Fine line is just not bent enough 
The things I do....

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It is a great joy to be united
Hearts held together without division
Full of grace and unlimited power
It is a great joy.

The reign of happiness void of tension 
The sight of great minds greatly excited
Ready to obey in all submission.

Winning victories clean and unscathed
A mighty formidable men of valor
Laying off enemies' ground sighted
It is a great joy....

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Let the mind games begin
Turning facts into fallacies, urgh! What a mule
Good deeds? With evil grins
Ousting an honest man, and condemning his sins?
Bright minds unbecoming, using the press as a tool
Deceiving the masses, presuming we are fools
And yet you still go on, thinking you can win
Well then my friend,
Bring it on!
And let the mind games begin...

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Tasty morsels may swim by 
I’ll just duck down and check it out 
Instead, a big fish I do spy 
Tasty morsels.

Although this looks like a brown trout 
Or maybe it is a walleye 
They’re far to big I have no doubt.

I’ll take a breath and then retry 
If nothing’s there, I’ll go without 
I hope I find with my keen eye 
Tasty morsels

Image No 3.
...

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Our true world is what we know best
Yet leave our safety to explore
What more is there beyond the crest
Outside our world

Within, we know that there is more
And made to follow this, our quest
With never knowing what's in store

We leave our comfort zone with zest
Which takes us to another shore
And find it only when we test
Outside our world


...

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