When you’re locked inside a stupor
frail bubbles float but never burst.
Wishing on wind chimes you whimper,
when you’re locked inside a stupor.
Wasting away now much thinner,
never able to quench that thirst.
When you’re locked inside a stupor
frail bubbles float but never burst.
Summers hosting a heated draught boil caster,
Mounted rays of sun pouring on earths soil
Abundantly temperate rises environments- brasher
Space satellite mounted orbits machines caster
The heat rays’ blast-- invisible blasters
Air conditioners hum a song boil
The third cloud on the right sets a caster
The boiling heat of summer’s burns the soil
--The temperature burns so
Environments place in time summer- blasters
8/21/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026© Triolet
Publicized with a sharp glower
you can read the butterfly stings.
Wretched heat of the witching hour
publicized with a sharp glower.
Dark eyes holding vacant power
give a glimpse of all fervor brings.
Publicized with a sharp glower
you can read the butterfly stings.
Clouds leave their blue skies to be rain,
The wringing dark trailing behind.
Onto her palm, drops shadow's stain.
Clouds leave their blue skies to be rain,
While the water fills up in gray;
A cloud held to her face's cry.
Clouds leave their blue skies to be rain,
The wringing dark trailing behind.
My spirit was filled
with an abundance of love,
when my stony heart
was healed of its bitterness.
Just as the eagle rises
like prayer above,
my spirit was filled
with an abundance of love.
Some things so pure
they’re difficult to speak of,
like nail-pierced hands,
with love,
held out in faithfulness.
My spirit was filled
with an abundance of love,
when my stony heart
was healed of its bitterness.
* Note: A triolet with broken lines.
Your birthday is a special time
to give thanks to God for you!
I’m thankful you’re a friend of mine —
your birthday is a special time
to give thanks for you friend so kind,
and to pray you’re blessed
the whole year through!
Your birthday is a special time
to give thanks to God for you!
They named her frail, fit for ash.
In the abyss, her pulse refused.
Fate cast her, broken, among thorns.
They named her frail, fit for ash.
A survivor bore her past black hush.
Through poison sands, his vow amused.
In the abyss, her pulse refused.
They named her frail, fit for ash.
O Lord, you know I’m barely hanging on,
as I wait for your grace in the shadows –
I’m sorry for the careless things I’ve done
O Lord, you know I’m barely hanging on...
Save me from this winding road I’m on –
such a long way from the straight and narrow
O Lord, you know I’m barely hanging on...
as I wait for your grace in the shadows
A little heat with sweet is nice,
flavor dances on your palate
Lemon and ginger lifting spice,
a little heat with sweet is nice.
Hot devil wearing a disguise,
more than a little she’s a lot.
A little heat with sweet is nice,
flavor dances on your palate.
When Bobby got his puppy, Chase,
a brand-new phase of life began.
Pure love filled in an empty space
when Bobby got his puppy, Chase.
For them, life was a fun-filled race.
Each was the other’s biggest fan.
When Bobby got his puppy, Chase,
a brand-new phase of life began.
On the path of life
I keep on stumbling,
as I seek the way
that’s straight and narrow
In the wilderness
I started grumbling —
on the path of life
I keep on stumbling.
When every stumble
is oh so humbling
I exhale a prayer
for grace upon the morrow
On the path of life
I keep on stumbling,
as I seek the way
that’s straight and narrow
* Note: A triolet with broken lines.
Sun under skies froze to places,
Its shade of darker, runs my skin —
I thirst for lost kisses' spaces.
Sun under skies froze to places,
Bleach on clothes that mask my faces;
There light's story is forgiven —
Sun under skies froze to places,
Its shade of darker; runs my skin —
D’sire pools of blue, or are they gray.
Lightweight sweater of steel and rain.
The zephyr sheets in windblown play.
D’sire pools of blue, or are they gray.
Chaos kaboom, lightning bouquet;
The rocking boat cannot explain.
D’sire pools of blue, or are they gray.
Lightweight sweater of steel and rain.
As I journey through a path of thorns,
angels with pruning shears clear my path!
They clear the way and sound the horn,
as I journey through a path of thorns...
I’m reminded of the crown He’s worn,
when He saved from sin and Judgment’s wrath!
As I journey through a path of thorns,
angels with pruning shears clear my path!
As men, disguised oak trees, detach,
The snow clings to the roots of fire.
Flicker of white, a battle match,
As men, disguised oak trees, detach.
A rooftop Juliet of thatch.
The lyric flakes - a soothing lyre.
As men, disguised oak trees, detach,
The snow clings to the roots of fire.
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