¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ the Sun rose --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ at a time --
The Steeples swam ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ Squirrels, ran --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦ Bobolinks -- begun --
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ softly ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ the Sun"!
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ set -- ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦¦¦ seemed ¦¦¦ purple ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
A ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ Gray --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ evening ¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦ led the flock away --
(Blackout of Ill tell you how the Sun rose by Emily Dickinson)
Time is not lineal – in fact,
often stops and starts with
the pendulum of the heart
races ahead when joy
suffering can latch on and
drag with all the sympathy
of a rabid pit-bull – or divorce
lawyer
don’t know that I want to imagine
eternity – thinking it best I leave
that burden to God....
------------------------------------------
All Refrains Are Not Poetry
We refrain from thinking of Time
as a limited commodity; but for
mortals, it may very well be. We tan
away on beaches, the Crap Tables
of Vegas – arguing with our loved
ones – tick, tick, tick. Overworking
can be negative. “Take time to be Holy” --
We imagine a blessed eternity to
compensate for questionable predilections.
Wasting of Time. Wasting of Time.
Tall steeples and stained glass pictorials
are spiritually transcending. Let’s hope,
if there is a heaven, that heaven is
yet indulgent of vintage intoxications.
skinny and tall pines
Holy Spirit’s breath winds ‘round
steeples in forest
Six square panes, so varied and solid,
In painted arrays of quiet and light,
Four windows per side, a glorious sight.
Of eight casting shadows on wood-grain and rite.
On Sunday, the benches hold twenty souls,
With standing room only in pious rows,
Embracing the flock as the morning wind blows.
Across the green of the country lane, resting
Beyond the pale borders of Protestant ground,
The Catholic services welcome the weary
At The Painted Church, the painted panes are found.
Yet both of the steeples reach up to the blue.
*In the 90’s, lava destroyed the Protestant Church that was later rebuilt in the main town. The Catholic Church, best known as The Painted Church, was lifted onto an 18-wheeler flatbed to a secluded spot, one mile from where the lava flow came to an end. Father Damien made it of historic significance.
Lone wee firefly,
you fast flit by
in the dark sky.
A night endowed
again allowed
a pearl so proud.
Through gauzy night,
mere blink of light,
wandering flight.
Flickering mid-
shadows you hid.
Wholly forbid.
Lull of the moon,
you're so attuned
to warmth in June.
On steeples, leaf
in disbelief
in darkness thief.
La Sagrada Familia church in Barcelona, Spain is being finished after 144 years
I'm not a Christian, but can appreciate the labor of love and majestic design when I see one. I, however, find this magnificent cathedral completion being a bit late as the surrounding times had irrevocably changed
The work is finished, took so many years
Time comes for admiration, prayer, cheers
Construction's done, scaffolding's coming down
With folks be flocking way from out of town
In glory of their Lord but also land of Spain
Yet being so late, street riffraff’s in disdain
For Muslim crowds nothing but a joke
No quiet piety these steeples to evoke
Oh, Europe, Europe, one could never know
Why you admitted, nurtured and let grow
Without common roots, rejecting Mothers' Grace
A savage foreign horde of fiendish angry faith
They fill your streets, demanding Sharia
From places far, they made the ‘aliyah’
A malady, from which there’s no recourse
Sad alteration of mankind’s future course
As time flows, a church of yellow stone
This splendid site is bound to stand alone
Eyewitness, symbol-speaking, through her eyes
Of Western world corruption and demise
March 28, 2026
Deep in the belly of the Jack-o-lantern forest were steeples
They were not known by many, gave witches the “creeples”
We never knew why they were there, but stayed away
The forest had an ambiance that said murder was her mainstay
The Puritans were persecuted for expressing their belief
These Dissenters in the New World worshiped, such divinely blessed relief
For the largesse of Native Peoples, on pheasant, squash, corn and beans they dined
As we fondly recall the first Thanksgiving, warmth and generosity come to mind
Yet these Pilgrims allowed no religious dissent
voice disagreement and poof! off you went
They erected their churches with iconic white steeples
As they turned on their new friends as savage peoples
But I shall file this unsavory history away
And thank my lucky stars for this most pleasant day
I am also thankful for kind folks I’ve known, both passed and living
As I wish all of you a genuinely happy Thanksgiving
TWO
Two Fragrant Lily Winged Creatures
Spiral above Twin Towers with Snow White Steeples
The Moons eyes Smile towards them
Two Lips Whisper secrets in each ear
Two Thousand Tulips Sing in Thunderous Ovation
Two Tears Fall from Heavens Creation
Two Souls Entwined in mirrored Exaltation
Fire starter using flame
To burn kill destroy lame
What is your end game
To make money to gain
California she suffers so
Set ablaze her forests glow
People steeples burning red
Hard to watch tears are shed
What is the reason or cause
Arson or accident or natures fault
Too many questions strange to see
Insurance cancelled those policies
God help California prevail
As we watch these fires from hell
May the truth be a breeze with sail
Blowing in peace where water fails
Magic twirling in the air
in forms of song, of magic, of love
to compare
Song of a people
Lifting the magic in their hearts
to tops of steeples
velvet strands
of thin blue light magic
over the lands
Bring us to life
Shake us to sing ourselves
over the land
In the house of commons, in Canada there's a problem' well
Your Damien; yes' he got wordy, and the speaker.?? He got nerdy.?
A word that denotes mis-truth; apparently not there; in use.?
In that place, it is a no no.' I never thought it would be so?
Controversial and affronting, in the place of egalat'e where
They even praised; that nazi.?? I thought it a misnomer; yet
No chance.? And like some loner, the M P who held to his
Reasons?? got denied access; for a season.' I think he took
One for the people? so i'll shout this from the steeples.'
His action served even the street, of liberals' he got booted
By the snooty, in the service of true unity, i reason that
Canadians of every type, should value Damien.' If you
See him out just greet him..In the greatness of the season
Take the chance, shake his hand; denying this dis-reason.'
(And the liar.? You know what? My history says.. Forgot! )
People
By
J. A. Long
People are people regardless of
Ethnicity and history
Even in feeble steeples
During the Christmas season
Which is the coldest time In America
People are proverbial birds
In need of proverbial seeds
But are not interested in searching
For those seeds which are at proverbial bird feeders
People are all somewhat different
Some are friendlier than others
And some are more accepting than others
Even at Christmas time-be open to them
Ever-changing Autumn, its shapes and shades.
Fanning breath stirs the heavily laden;
transforms and redraws like playful charades,
prepping, and grooming, all the misshapen.
A pastor's mural paints pure from trespass,
ever-changing Autumn, its shapes and shades.
Prismatic design grounds tell-tale stained glass
and forest steeples are Redwood's crusades.
Kids taking the plunge, multihued cascades,
succumb to trampling and crushing horseplay.
Ever-changing Autumn, its shapes and shades,
the bejeweled waits: Sunday's white bouquet.
Awe striking vista blessing amble eyes,
bounteous nostalgia praising persuades.
Peace thine harmonious artwork baptize,
ever-changing Autumn, its shapes and shades.
Lights flickered as evening woke
the tired lagoon
where wrinkled reflections
and silhouettes of a million
spruce steeples
tickled the horizon.
A chorus of slapping halyards
joined a colony of gulls
in their repertoire
above the docked fisherman.
Trees, painted half-white
by windward squalls
faded off like a black curtain
to await an encore at dawn...
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