In the yard behind the house
There were children's toys
Some broken, some just discarded by time.
All forgotten.
In the garden
They had planted together
The previous spring
There were tomatoes still,
Hanging tenuously on the vine,
Their skins fragile and transparent
From the frost, the freeze and the thaw.
On the ground
The squash and the pumpkins
Lay where they had grown
Green and orange and gold
Unharvested, black and brown
Their hulls in pieces
And their seeds scattered round
lovely autumn was crying
for her spoiled unharvested pumpkins
when jack frost came by
freezing her tears
her hair is stalactites now
this stopped the sorrow
freezing it in time
Tapering to a point
time pierces the veil
Unharvested moments
a gardener’s tale
Dug from the furrows
a voice has been freed
Whose final word spoken
—eternity’s seed
(Septa R5: June, 2023)
Road noises rise like precautionary tales
Heat shimmering on the roadway ahead
Straight as an arrow from past to future
Seen through tunnels of unharvested grain
Punctuated by power-producing windmills
Turning slowly, nowhere signs of coming rain
Occasionally a railroad crossing suture
Strange dialect of north Fargo in my head
While lone tractor loads rolled hay bales
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand's "Your Choice" Poetry Contet
Poetry Soup
written August 22, 2021
(using my reverse rhyming
technique)
Not knowing the outcome,
I’d hide in the field
And wait for nature
to turn out the yield
Perception unharvested,
the thick to the thin
The fantasies rotting
—all truth caving in
(Stoltzfus Farm: December, 2020)
Henry, you tried and tried and tried —
turkey legs and beer kegs of great import*
Did they get between you and the ladies,
many of those waiting...
You got your way,
but your seeds unharvested
after 1603.
How fair these children of a greedy king —
Edward, Mary and Elizabeth.
Edward VI, king at nine,
lives to be fifteen —
a child the whole time.
Lady Jane Grey, not one of Henry’s kids
would be royally screwed
after nine days,
Mary grabbed the crown, as was her due.
Queen Mary I, like her dad, caused a beheading,
Grey would wish she hadn’t stepped on her toes.
Sobriquet, quite sobering, of Bloody Mary,
vilified in Foxe’s Actes and Monuments.
Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen, after her sister dies
in 1558. Video et taceo — she sees but says nothing.
Perhaps better to keep your trap shut in the family vault
or die trying to try and try and try to one’s detriment.
11/2/2020
*concern
Africa,
Upon this vantage pedestal I see you,
i gaze from this hollow quest,
away from the home of my ancestors,
a sojourner for a time,
I yearn,
to tread again the beautiful climate of my origin,
where no strange stares forbids my freedom,
Africa,
Did I hear the enthralling songs?
The chirping sounds of the birds,
The brilliant coruscations,
the evening tales by moonlight,
Oh! Nature, never saw you tainted.
it is different here,
Africa, A vast exotics land of combination,
with lush emerald jungles
vistas of burning stars,
and torrential white river,
the mountains unharvested,
the hills uncrowded,
Africa,
we smile without suspicion
not hunted "like partridges upon the mountain"
We breathe though poor
Yet rich in morals
I am a prisoned sojourner here,
men speed away uncaring.
locked in debts called homes,
bills buries friendship,
and for wood hay and stubble,
nature becomes a nullity,
in motions like robots,
we wake, we work, and wear our frame
Africa i hear you call
Long-time neglect morphs into degradation
A sad sight of a deserted dwelling; a burning eyesore
Tantamount to sown seeds of dreams forgetting to sprout
Unharvested fruits withering on the vine
Undreamt dreams rusting like wet metal
A sanctuary with no one seeking refuge there
A garden without a gardener to tend it; growing weeds,
all the planted seeds staying buried in the soil
Free Verse Or Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper (Winner: 2nd Place)
Date written and submitted: 09/04/2019
Photo used: 3
No flowers in the field
Sadness today
I wear upon my heart a shield
For in this field love grows
No harvest
Why? Only God knows
Each season bears the same
Unharvested love
So you wonder why they came
Could it be that soulmates are for a season?
Don't go
What for, love the reason?
This question to my heart do I ask
When will love stay?
Where from, the love that lasts?
Is it our blindness?
A guard of our heart?
To let love go...it should never part
Dori
It is anything and everything
The song of the soul singing within
A child’s laugh playing their games
The suns warmth on the face in April
The peaks of the Appalachians
It is staring down the Grand Canyons cliffs
Unharvested endless plains of Montana
Walking in the gentle rains of summer
Setting sun in the middle of the Atlantic
It is these I rarely recall…
It is that first gift given of your smile
Endless days walking holding hands
The gentle peace deep within Hazel eyes
Her sultry glance of passion burning brightly
The rhythmic breathe while she sleeps
It is the ease of laughter she shares with me
The manner of her walk as she comes and goes
Her gentle caress steadying as I lose myself to fear
Those sacrifices made with the gift of children
An undying faith held…
It is this I see within my wife…
…Beauty unbound
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