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Lost
The sun sinks low, the shadows grow,
No moon is out up high,
A chilling breeze begins to blow,
With stars up in the sky;
I wearily wade my way in vain
Across serpentine lanes of a forest,
Speckled with thick thorns and thickets,
But each time tumble at the same spot;
My heart is sore with seams of strains,
I feel lost in the night,
My feet are tinging with deep pains,
No pathway greets my sight.
Most of the trees seem to sneer at me,
Some to snarl like wild woeful winds
Treating the spot as their enclave,
A guarded setting of their own;
A voice soon whispers in my ears,
A voice from inner self:
“Move straight without a grain of fear,
And steer ahead yourself.”
Stunning scenery in surrounding twilight
lists lissomly, touching corners of my mind,
bringing promises of the forthcoming night
with billowing breezes, of the serene kind.
In muffled silence, smitten by its splendor,
the Composer's tempo sets our feelings on fire.
Seductive sounds spool us with erupting ember.
Enticing eyes envelope us in burning desire.
Our visions of future euphoric foreverness
shine in the subtle colors tinging the skies.
Enveloping us with its muted tenderness,
binding us with its lilting lows, intense highs.
When we turn, the sun is gone, just like fine wine.
Its lingering glow highlights us in exquisite eternity.
Your slender, tender fingers entwine with mine.
We softly shift from sentiment into sweet reverie.
We peek from ‘neath a January frost
Through windows tightly shut against its chill
Count a mitten and a hat among the lost
And carry on by simple force of will
The glint of light grows longer every day
As shadows strut their stuff in windblown play
Tinging the edge of snow a dingy gray
As silently a terror comes our way
A cold heart bidding us to candied dreams
To kisses blown across a frigid floor
For love is never really what it seems
When February knocks upon your door
And so I bid you even though you’re smitten
Keep your heart in that one remaining mitten
John G. Lawless
©1/31/2023
The road suddenly divided
I needed the river
Her two arms replete
with hyacinth of
empathy
Emptily
I kept looking at, now
at one direction
then at the other but
the envelope didn't part
I needed the river so much
Her foamy murmur
into my elongated ears
to interpret what
the cherry was
With the third
eye at the roses
tinging dry thorns
pricking my brain cells
I select the leftward turn
___________________
26 October 2022
Smell of Autumn in the evening dusk
Decaying leaves slowly becoming dust,
Scent of that Sixties patchouli musk
Smell of Autumn in the evening dusk.
Breezes becoming somewhat brusque
Leaves still green but tinging with rust,
Smell of Autumn in the evening dusk
Decaying leaves slowly becoming dust.
written August 1, 2021
Playing my guitar
playing Christmas songs
songs that echo from my childhood
songs of memories made
made in fantasies
made in dreams
dreams built from flavors
dreams built from stories
stories family told
stories in favorite books
books given to me by family
books given to me by friends
friends who understood
friends who shared interests
interests that made us friends
interests fascinating
fascinating and bright
fascinating and intriguing
intriguing mysteries
intriguing fantasies
fantasies of elves
fantasies of dragons
dragons are colorful
dragons are actually good
good mythical beasts
good characters
characters for stories
characters for songs
songs I create
songs I play
play on my guitar
play on my dulcimer
dulcimer rings
dulcimer chimes
chimes like bells
chimes ting-tinging
ting-tinging like bells
ting-tinging sweet
sweet music
sweet harmony
harmony for dance
harmony for peace
peace on earth
peace and tranquility
tranquility of love
tranquility that’s infectious
infectious as laughter
laughter
infectious
3-6-2021
ALL YOURS (Mar 8) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Who knew September would bring
A morning such as this.
Cool, breezy and a coming rain.
My lover waiting for his kiss.
Locked in a quarantine, not knowing
When we will ever meet our new neighbors,
Though we will, they will, and glorious leaves
Are tinging and hiding in fall's vapours.
Meantime our hearts are waiting
With hope the days will come,
Bearing red and Green and twinkling lights.
And sickness will be gone.
silver bells ringing
holly bright among the pine
merrily dinging
bringing Christmas cheer to all –
scent of the outdoors
tint-tinging clapping
etheric among the greens
happy holiday
they sing joyfully aloud –
angelic voices
Global warming's changing our world,
as deserts increase, farmland shrinks.
And ancient glaciers have no ice,
the sea's dying and the air stinks.
Weather upheavals forecast gloom,
as rivers flood altered courses.
And torrential rains drench the earth,
a shift in natural forces.
Virgin forests scared by fire's flame
leave barren soil to rot and mold.
And mountains of water-soaked mud
slide down slopes, unable to hold.
Volcanoes erupt in the depths,
birthing tsunamis at their rim.
And waves rise to devastate lives,
where water is too swift to swim.
A spotted sun bakes the ozone,
tinging twilight, ocher, and rust.
And tornados chew up the ground,
vortexes grinding life to dust.
Earth rebuffs belated efforts
it's too late for token repairs.
For Man forgot one basic rule,
nature governs earthly affairs.
(Quatrain)
0/8/2016
The sun rises on the distant horizon
Sending rays through gray clouds
Tinging them to a somber cobalt
Waiting to shine red and proud
The sound waves vibrate from crickets
As they rub their hind legs
They have double-fold in numbers
Spread like whisky bootleg_
The fog drapes its long tenacles
Across the hill and vale
It coats all the trees, shrubs, and homes
Spreads across like bride's veil
Dampness penetrates every nook
Reaches within crevices
Notebook pages become soggy
Wet with fog's devices
How do I write my love in poetry?
Spin it around a needle’s company
I succumb to the wishes that’s displayed
Straight into my heart, a bed that is made
Words that focus not on the worldly things
Making love formed by surely everything
Almost all my chimed poetry is filled
Tinging of the bells on my window sill
My poems flow from my pen to your head
Allowing even the strange come to bed
Obstinate people combined with some change
Must read of my love, they will rearrange
My lovely other, sits upon the throne
Love ties us as one, prepares what is known
Russell Sivey
At night I like to listen to the stars
They are like millions of tinging pieces
Their sound beautifully formulated
I listen to their sound enhanced thesis
Ping a ting a ling all around the air
A lofty feel they each bring in the night
Such a soothing sound to my tender ear
Complimented only by their small light
As the stars make their glorious music
Orchestrated by the wee-tiny bells
Softly they harmoniously align
And create a song deep within the dells
At night I like to listen to the stars
They are like millions of peeling pieces
Their sound beautifully formulated
I listen to their sound enhanced reaches
Russell Sivey
Contest: Bringin' in the Stars; Sponsor: POETESS DARKLY
4/25/2013
Agent Orange
Tinging lush, green foliage
Breath-taking shadow
Swallows mercurial moon
Invisible orb hovers
October 11, 2012