What The World Needs Is Jesus
What the world needs is Jesus,
In trying times like these,
He's the answer to our problems,
For in Him there's peace.
There's also joy and righteousness,
That is in the Holy Ghost,
It says so in the Bible,
In book, chapter, and verse.
We need to have the Bible,
Read and taught in our hearing,
And after which obey God's word,
Until His second coming.
Vivian L. Shaw
Categories:
vivian, bible, christian, faith, god,
Form: Rhyme
Identical twins Marian and Vivian are sisters with flair
You might see them out in the San Francisco air
They are famous for their identical outfits for sure
Filling gawking children full of delightful wonder
Categories:
vivian, sister,
Form: Rhyme
Miss Vivian, our precious girl,
On this, your special day,
Your Mimi and your Big Daddy
Just have one thing to say:
Oh, happy day, sweet little one,
We hope it’s a delight,
And that you get a piece of cake
When you get home tonight!
Your grandpa’s going back to work,
Retirement’s just too hard,
I think that I’ll go head to head
With Hallmark greeting cards.
Apparently, there’s cash to make
By crafting sappy drool;
Sarcastic birthday wishes may
Not sell, but they sure rule!
So try not to catch COVID, dear,
At daycare, while you play,
We’re kind of short on flyer miles,
And won’t be there today.
We’ll settle for a Facetime call,
Not one we’d want to miss,
So we can give a virtual
Sweet, Happy Birthday kiss!
----------
A birthday card inscription for Vivian, must have been last year. Posting to join my collection at the soup...
Categories:
vivian, birthday, granddaughter,
Form: Quatrain
Miss Vivian, my heart is full
to stay with you a while,
to see your precious cherub face,
your impish little smile.
You have your father’s countenance,
your mom’s full head of hair -
Indeed, both fearful, wondrous made,
exquisitely, with care.
Our times with you are far too short,
the separation, mean,
for though my heart is bound to yours,
too many miles between.
But I find solace in this truth:
He’s never far from you.
your every moment’s known to Him,
and that will see me through.
----------
on seeing my granddaughter
for the first time last year;
going out to see here again soon!
Categories:
vivian, granddaughter,
Form: Quatrain
Vivianne, Dame du Lac,
Valley Girl? Hardly not. ~
Voiced to some as Nimue,
Valiant knights in her queue,
Vespers on which she’d come,
Viewed as Lancelot’s mum;
Vestal was she. Maiden of yore.
~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Submitted 5/6/21 1
contest: "Pleiades 'V' Contest"
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Result: DSQ because a personal name was used in the title.
Categories:
vivian, history, myth, mythology,
Form: Rhyme
She is vivacious,
Yellow flecks in her eyes intrigue us
Her unleashed excitement is golden
She is nineteen, and confident
She lavishes us with enthusiasm
Her wit flickers like a flame on fire
We are intrigued, excited, alive!
Loving this moment
Categories:
vivian, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse
Vivian walked a tighter path
than she would have believed.
For one with anonymity
she would be deceived.
A public figure she was not.
Her life spent between images.
And when at home it wasn't hers
that landlords brought her scrimmages.
Her photos now celebrities.
though many now are dead.
That fame for the photographer;
in death she may have led.
She opened up a world of art.
The pictures thousand words.
To leave us with as many thoughts,
she scattered with the birds.
Her wealth was an illusion
of a life seen through a shutter.
To ending on a bench meant;
an ending poor in clutter.
A death that she took nothing of
and left as unfulfilled.
While dying brought her everything
evolving in her guild.
To live on Vivian Maier how
you're time's been shared in fate.
You're talent has enriched us all.
You're life's a second take.
Categories:
vivian, appreciation, blessing, career, celebrity,
Form: Quatrain
For Vivian, there was peace.
For her photos; much to say.
It's not that Vivian didn't try.
Vivian didn't play.
To sell her photos; only dreams.
Vivian's wait pursue.
And in her death
soon came through.
Her photos up for auction,
one could not surmise
the value of a woman:
especially one that wise.
Discovered in an auction.
A treasure of a find.
Promoted for her talent
by one who had the mind.
First come to a gallery.
Her photos on the wall.
A radiance of talent,
and finally seen by all.
The frames of bistro's boasting.
Small cafe's in light.
Charming faces blooming;
character's delight.
A passion that grew stronger.
This gifted talent dire.
A fate long in the waiting.
The vision: Vivian Maier.
Categories:
vivian, appreciation, death, death of
Form: Quatrain
The Shutterbug (Vivian Maier) -by Trevor McLeod
She shot through life and captured photo.
Dismissed her name for art.
Took thousands of great photographs
and in the end did part.
Her photos came from on the street.
Rich characters and buildings.
While Vivian held the camera tight
aligning folks and gildings.
She took more pictures than developed.
Filled boxes high to store.
A hoarder she would save her papers
sure to fill the floor.
While some would just accept her mess.
Others thought it brute.
A nanny, she would often leave
while never bearing fruit.
Her reputation was quite sour.
insisting in her way.
For Vivian Maier life was strict
for talent she would pay.
Her death brought out her single passion.
The one she had kept hidden.
In life she went along unnoticed.
still; some are glad they're ridden.
For Vivian Maier the path was tough.
She suffered for her art.
She filled her suitcase full of photos
all taken from the heart.
Remember her for all her talent.
Worth more than just her name.
And love her for the person she was
now she's been shot in fame.
Vivian Maier -deathly devoted.(1926–2009)
Categories:
vivian, appreciation, celebrity, character, dedication,
Form: Quatrain
She hides a jar of dread
Underneath the bed
With other bottled pains
Until her feelings rust,
Collecting tears and dust
And cobwebs of old shame.
But when the night arrives,
She's just a name on a stone,
And a box of cold bones
That yearn to be alive.
She hides another lover
Under satin covers
To wallow in warm lies
Until she can forget
The folds of deep regret
That drape her weary guise.
But when the night arrives,
She's just a name on a stone,
And a box of cold bones
That yearn to be alive.
Yes, when the night arrives,
She yearns to be alive.
Categories:
vivian, depression,
Form: Lyric
that little
mailbox
that
you make
so
big
is my
home
where i live
knock
lightly
for
with gifts
guilt prevails
and
i
may
not
know
you
anymore
Categories:
vivian, depression
Form: Narrative