The argument of silence, absonant,
hammers into the pliant mind it’s hard
nails of craving.—a spirit thusly marred
will yield to any prickle, every scant
pressure to give in.—once the foreign implant
is firmly riveted, a brain so jarred
can no longer trust its levies to guard
its thoughts against the inner, speechless “can’t”.
Quietudes disturb the peace of silent
folk, pounding its forceful will upon their backs.
When, going unfulfilled, a lurching tic
tickles the unstilled ego, its violent
lashes thrash harsh whips in frequent attacks
on the tender flesh of a crooked back.
Mountain by the seas
A jungle filled with trees
Praying on their knees
Evil men had willed
A land by darkness killed
Like the waves unstilled
How can this be true?
The story still is new
Workers are so few
Like a chosen nut
His shell seem hard to cut
Yet a heart not shut
With a shepherd's rod
Glad tidings broke the pod
Came a man of God
As he gave the word
The sinful hearts were stirred
Their loins sacklot gird
Though the work is hard
His holy life did guard
By grace gained reward
Hidden from the dark
A land he set to mark
By an ancient arch
Like a forest green
That grows with gentle stream
Here God can be seen
SUMMER RISPETTO
In gentle flowing waves of soft warm fragrance
It slowly wafted across the summer field
Carrying with it in solemn elegance
A feeling to me that has yet been unstilled
There is no explanation of the warm glow
That enveloped me as it passed by so slow
The onslaught of this wonderful time of year
A time for me that will remain oh so dear
9 July 2018
For the contest sponsored by Barry Stebbings
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