To all those fence riders
To all the Gospel chiders
Aspire to the Spire
To all those who besmirch
To all within Satan’s lurch
Aspire to the Spire
To all those fake fossil fans
To all those who don’t give a damn
Aspire to the Spire
To all those in quagmire
To all with a spurious ire
Aspire to the Spire
To those who have not been hopin’
To those headed for the gate wide open
Aspire to the Spire
To those first reading The Word
Don’t let your mind call it absurd
Aspire to the Spire
To all interests that (by The Holy Ghost) have been piqued
To all: take heed don’t let your seed become weed
Aspire to the Spire
To all who fall on the rocky, thorny or along the well beaten path
To all who act a fool for the king of Gath
Aspire to the Spire
To the prisoners and their lives
To those not putting up a fight
Aspire to the Spire
Resolution:
Why the spire (if it is true)?
Because it is pointing us to
(Here’s a clue for all in the convocations)
To be in[spired] by The Desire of the nations
With fustigation to amelioration
We are led by The Law to The Gospel
And in turn The Gospel demands we keep The Law
No epistle of straw, there’s room in the hostel
(Because God’s style to the world is hostile)
We are led by the Spirit
To learn to endear it
Endear what? Is a sinful recitation
Learning to serve others in convocation
(God calls us and overhauls us
Whether one by one and together)
How do we inherit eternal life?
By loving our neighbor as serving kin
Who is our neighbor?
The one without (as in not having and not within)
The fustigation of Jesus Christ
Begs our amelioration of a fustigated life
And if a cruciform life is led
There must be blood, sweat and tears shed in stead
(Or instead of the evil in tow as is led here below)
Life is hard, there’s no doubt about it
Jesus’ words touted and shouted from the Cross
But serendipitously (and graciously)
When we lose, we don’t count it as loss
Are you willing to look like a hypocrite to the world without?
Are you willing to look at the hypocrite within?
(As He lived and then hung betwixt two of us)
Jesus took on this struggle without committing a sin
Those Amazing Cats
Oh, those amazing cats with their smooth coats
They go uppity up up they go downdy, down down.
And they bounce around 'making the loop as they' pounce
here and there sometimes catching a mouse somewhere in the house
getting their exercise running back and forth until they need a long rest
They purr when they are happy getting hugs and comments
As they get stroked, they talk to their people once and awhile
and they never get poked rocking the boat only when they get soaked
shaking the water all over the place
They stand up and smile wanting a hug looking innocently cute
as they ask to be taken home then snooze on a lap all curled up
in a ball and the car pulls out then departs making someone happy
whose feeling blue- they are perfect companions, and they are really
wonderful roommates.
The lambition of the slalom she deserves
To follow the flower’s supple curves
(There must be digital swerves)
And the linguation until sensation
Follow the Levant, Aqaba and Red Sea’s
Coastline, tantalize and tease
The gustation of the in between, a quivering release
Over and over and over again
We roamed where the night grew thin, a veil of gossamer air,
touched the moonlight as it brushed against our skin, something kind and rare~
childhood, the world a magical reverie.
We followed shadows down the lane, their edges soft with glow,
heard distant owls repeat the secrets only children know~
childhood, each moment held in secrecy.
We cupped the quiet in our hands, a fragile, glowing thread,
believed the moonlight understands the dreams we never said~
childhood, drifting silently.
Stumpy the squirrel awoke one day,
and stretched in his usual squirrelly way~
then froze with sudden dread.
My tail is gone! It’s disappeared!
That fluffy plume I’ve always cheered~
it’s vanished from my bed!
He searched the oak, he searched the pine,
he checked the clothesline (twice) for signs,
he even sniffed the air.
He asked a jay, Have you seen fluff~
a swishy, swooshy, poofy puff
that used to be right there?
The jay squawked back, I saw a breeze
run off with something soft as fleece~
it headed toward the creek!
Stumpy dashed so fast his paws were sparks,
he scoured every woodland park
till chipmunks came to speak:
Your tail’s right here, you silly nut~
it’s on your backside, firmly stuck!
Stumpy blushed a rosy hue.
He spun around—Well, mercy me!
My tail’s been right where tails should be
looks like my brain took leave of me—adieu!
birds singing through their feathers
her heart in her skin's footsteps
will not remember where it once remembered
a shadow left lying to her breast
under trees she hopes to melt
though still on ground their stinging pelt
birds singing through their feathers
will not remember where it once remembered
like shadows, tongue's to be full u n c e a s i n g hunger
there is no way to this darkness
"May is the month of expectation, the month of wishes, the month of hope." - Emily Brontë
For the love of May, the month of expectation,
I walk through mornings bright with new creation;
a hush of promise drifts along my way.
For the love of May, the month of wishes rising,
each blossom opens like a dream surprising;
a hush of promise drifts along my way.
For the love of May, the month of hope made tender,
I feel the world lean softly toward it’s splendor;
a hush of promise drifts along my way.
Koi glide beneath green shadows,
their fins like drifting flame;
the pond breathes slow repose.
Soft ripples blur where each one goes,
no two paths ever the same;
water lifts where each koi rose.
Two sapling oaks in early spring
Soft sage color their tender leaves wave
Light reflects
Verdant leaves intertwine in summer
Their bond has stood the test of time
Limbs reach next
Their leaves of brilliant autumn color
Have reached past their prime, fall
color specks
When winter comes, and twisted limbs fall
The light shines through and reaches brush
glow projects
The skies above are clear of human hate,
They don't know temples, churches, or mosque gate.
The birds that fly from branch to foreign land ,
Don't carry holy wars inside their hand.
They sing one song, a language of the wind,
Their faith is in the worms they hope to find.
No borders etched in prayer to keep them bound,
No dogma in the nesting spots they've found.
We split the earth with concepts of our soul,
Then turn on brothers, breaking every whole.
But if the sky had chosen sides to keep,
Its clouds would split, and even stars would weep.
If feathers had a colour , creed or name,
The air we breathe would surely burst to flame.
No gentle rain would nurture life from seed,
But drops of red to satisfy our greed.
A final, bloody from clouds above,
Proving our God is surely not just Love.1
when held in that other side of night's beam
the breathing crest
over our eyes, the same sea
the pressure leaving breath
I scrape along your eyes' shores
for a goodbye; boat though pulling, stays, moors
when held in that other side of night's beam
over our eyes, the same sea
veins in my touch tell like knelling buoys
against feeling this drowning tide
I'm not eloquent at descriptions.
My tongue gets tied trying to push my thoughts out.
My mind gets foggy when I try describing
the "where's", the "who's", the "why's", the "what's.
I guess I'm not very good at explaining.
Expressing my feelings I also often fail.
The "who's" I fathom will be so frustrated
trying to decipher my "what's" so frail.
I recon the reason is somewhat ambiguous.
The "why's" don't bother using common sense.
They shut the door in poor "what's" the name's face.
The tension grows thicker, and the air becomes dense.
Overflowing with guilt from all this commotion,
Refuge they'd seek at the redemption's lair
Vehemently trying to make peace with all the emotions,
I hurriedly ran in array and despair.
I knocked at the door slightly embarrassed.
Determined and ready I was, to finally explain.
But the "where's" was the only one sternly waiting.
So, all this commotion, and heartache, was in vain.
Besa Dede Monday, May 12, 2025
It is truth, opposites attract.
Seeing common ground is our tract.
Maths! for a plus, start in subtract.
Love! great voice, hate a mouth breather!
Head in a spin! Gee gosh golly.
All the workings, end us as friendly.
If i could, go back? yes fully!
We know this and yet here we are!
A Valentine with a twist in the tail Poetry Contest
2/1/2026
Sponsored by: Suzette Richards
Driving home, finally in sight.
Soft winds drift through the silent night,
Twinkling stars cast a gentle light -
turning off the car.
Dreams arise in the quiet air,
Hopes and wishes floating with care.
Night without kids, a lucky pair -
and yet, here we are.
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