They always stop and look at me
Cameras often click my way.
They often gossip by this Tree
And they have a lot to say!
At times, they bask inside my shade.
They hug me just for fun.
The Tree, "the unsung friend" they've made
And I get to be part of their fun.
For instance, when playing hide and seek
They freeze behind me out of sight.
It makes me laugh when they take a peak
And jump out at their friends to fright.
Some consider me a masterpiece
As I feature in their art.
When they're near to me they feel my peace.
Now isn't that quite smart?
I have outlived many souls
Who used to greet me everyday.
Human love helps nature to feel whole,
What more can I say?
This is me. I am the Tree
And until my own time ends,
I'll be your joyous company
Your Tree, your "unsung friend".
Under cover backing up all the others,
never for less than the collective voice.
Slipping in and out trying to inspire,
unintentionally making a huge impact.
Not really the loudest in the room,
gap on that mic? The silence is felt.
Heartily words bounce off the walls
each one starts a chain reaction.
Raw and rich the message is there.
One person can breath brand new life,
even to the most decrepit of fires.
Sit for a spell, you too can be a hero.
Nationals you are the same
Whatever nation you relate to
You're caught up in the old game
Of some national breakthrough
The most independent sources
Tell you what you need to learn
Privileged with self-importance
You count every cent you earn
Tell me propaganda stories
Tired generalizations
Pose a show-off with no worries
Though you are a worried nation
That’s your special way to go
Just a little bit depressing
We are poles apart, I know
But it seems a mutual blessing.
There is a piece I've longed to share,
which, up 'til now, I wouldn't dare,
where courage pushes fear aside
and shackles up my foolish pride...
To put to words, as much for me,
affection in simplicity,
and say those things I wished I could...
that chance may now be gone for good.
I near succumbed to COVID's wrath;
now, barricades deny clear path -
a bottleneck for oxygen.
So much to tell; where to begin?
A battle raged; a drawn-out war
that ended with a winning score:
I pulled ahead - a blessed reprieve;
the reaper's gone; yet, still, I grieve.
For scars remain; we coexist.
Not given up; I will persist,
but dreams? There was one 'mong the few:
to hold you close and sing for you...
A tune that melds our hearts together,
and keeps us warm through stormy weather,
a lullaby to ease all fear
and let you know how much I care.
But vocals won't cooperate;
on ev'ry nerve the raucous grates.
Those singing days are done, it seems;
some visions, sadly, dwell in dreams.
If fate insists that I must wait,
this voice will ring at Heaven's gate!
So, pardon, if I'm way off-tune;
at least, at last, Love will shine through!!
Jodie
5/23/25
Abandoned where aleatory fates immerse,
Exiled in the Whirlpool of Death we face,
Transcending a vanishing star's lost grace,
Leaving sanguine possibilities, a Time we curse,
Mirroring a microcosm of history in verse.
Perhaps in reaction, or rebellion, a world is born:
A world mirrored, where whims hold sway,
A candle's flame, twice bright, burns half its day,
Besotting fiction’s staple, known and long,
Dancing to its own drummer's vibrant song,
Problems, unpassported, its throng banish away.
The setting sun weaves a poem,
blossoming
unsung trochaic along the river basin
(Nurulhuda Junction. Teesta)
Sometimes it feels quite an estranged thought to realise that living is a mundane day to day thing to sustain. The welfare causes are demanding all those intricate , subtle personal delicate feelings, into a powermonger possessive expositional ownership, for no good understood parameter.
The book was well versed. Muzzammil was lying on his bed, half awakened. He took his glass pairs off. A pair of opaque spectacles, with the littlemost effort, both the bifocal parts are often sweaty. He was waiting for his wife’s special morning tea, everyday. Remote area in the suburban side, every day newscaster is often quote a belated story there.
December, 2025
the llama scribbled a Limerick
the robin wrote a Rhyme
the bittern jotted a Lanterne
the toad penned an Ode
the albatross’ Alliteration
the hippo’s Haiku
the panther’s Pantoum
the cuckoo’s Clerihew
the cow came up with a Couplet
the vole fashioned a Verse
the elephant thought of an Elegy
the pig presented some Prose
these are the unsung poets
the writers of their poem
make a mind to acknowledge
or they’ll remain unknown
~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~
Seriously, when I looked around, the verbs
sound ... slightly, different. Then arise a clause
thought ... scarcely, distinct. Until a noun disturbs
rounds ... barely, noting. Conversed in pronouns, was
abound ... in other words ... adjectives ... adverbs,
school's out, she leaves a book and parts. Wave to pause
~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~
then open--it's signed, "Thanks for the Spelling path,
Miss. June, your "C" student Claire" --strange, best in Math.
~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~
Beneath they, unsung
An eloquent thriving realm
Only friendship band!
2-24-2024
Dear Paramedics…. With this poem I admire and honour you
For the occupation you have chosen
Doing a job that so many of us just couldn’t do
You are first on the scene
Dealing with behaviours, emotions ,wounds
Raw human reality of the ultimate extreme
Absolute panic ,violence, sadness, trauma
Complete devastation of the worse kind
Horrific situations and sights etched eternally in the mind
The job has many rewards l assume
Ones of gratitude,positive outcomes, births
Kindness and great appreciation for the Paramedics worth
Then there are the driving skills required
That alone a dangerous mammoth task
Getting to the scene quickly and safely…. not an easy ask
I have never required an ambulance
Nor had any involvement with one
Yet , l value the Paramedics role above and beyond
Accolades and recognition are more deserving
For the unbelievably important position you hold
What you do in our world is worth its weight in gold
I just want you to know how valued you are
Acknowledging and praising the great job you do
So from the bottom of my heart l say a massive “Thankyou”!!
sunbird guards her young
facing predators bravely ~
there is no sequel
07-April-2023
__________
A New Nature Themed Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
The fate of morning is brewing
By the grace of their mighty brain
For their wisdom is a blessing
Even though they ache in pain
Sleepless nights are often calling
They can't refuse the call of dawn
The grace of their charm could be falling
But they must cause the seeds to spawn
Unsung heroes, they must be
They are as great as a starlight
They turn the wheels of destiny
So tomorrow can be bright
Like a flower, frail and tender
They must be poured with care and esteem
For if they're gone, the world will wander
Like a child caught in swirling stream
October 4, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Bello was his name.
He was a great singer.
He sang better than some in fame
but nobody knew him.
When he played his old guitar,
all the birds would sing,
for his tunes were so bizarre;
It quenched the drought with rain.
But one day he took a voyage,
faraway, amazing grace.
The heart that lacked the courage
bade farewell to those who praise.
I wish those voices came in fame,
for they were pure and golden.
They were like birds in early spring
that sang a tune from heaven.
Dedicated to the memory of my uncle Bello, the greatest folk singer that I've ever known.
Edited January 22, 2023
For:
Loved and Lost Poetry Contest
Sponsored By: Regina McIntosh
Those songs are unsung,
Those were the soldiers
with name unknown.
Who will sing the songs unsung?
They fought for their land with no fear,
but are here with no name to hear.
They were the warriors of the fight to freedom,
They were the soldiers with great patriotism.
They forgot their way to home,
In search of way to freedom.
I think about them whin I am ideal,
Again I am left with a mystery indescribale.
I know no name,
I know their no game.
All I know is their gift : freedom
Here I sit and sing the songs unsung
For those were the soldiers,
With name unknown
What's behind the terse, unspoken sound
One that abruptly inserted a period
Invoking a sigh in the middle of a sentence
Was it the uneasy voice of her heart's lyrics
Announcing your song is still incomplete
Or ambivalence of despondent music
Reluctantly strumming devoid of melody
Perhaps it’s time for your bashful words
To complement echo of the unsung verse
Disclosing explicitly to her anxious world:
You saw it in the smile of her cheerful eyes
And heard it from symphony of dulcet vibes
And felt it in the ballet of her delicate touch
When she held you close in an intimate hug
While mellifluous whispers of love spoke
December 8, 2021
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