December rain once in a while falls
In a heart so warm longing to throw snowballs
Job asks "Have you considered the wonder of the snow?"
Each snow flake is different as the people you know
Stories of folklore and rapture's pretense
Conjure up scenery inside our heads
Tears of joy cascade down a dreamer's face, and
Sparkle by the light of the fireplace
Through the window outside look to the sky
Gaze at the wonder of God's Christmas night
The wind waltzes dreams 'round in the air
The moonshine a beacon on the flight of a prayer
All y'all find solace in home from a wayworn trip
Find no wrapping, ribbons or a bow on a gift
A gift unwrapped that only God can snip
Categories:
wayworn, december, giving, jesus,
Form: Couplet
Violent noisy events in waves slap ,
Break and coersively snatch away
Distrubing the foamy thoughts in array,
Spreading across the stretch and dap
Calm and quietude that envelope
And revive the slackening sprit -
Beyond the roaring waters sans limit ,
Get tossed with the flickering hope
A little sweet success charges ever,
Even the slapless and dry a feel
Yet it is the inner conceding deal
Of the self-contained,bleary heaver
Sure some relentless faith and drive
Returns with a new design and form
To pull the possible out of the storm
And incite the wayworn , again to strive
Here it is that one meets the lead-
'Concur with Nature's system and order ,
'Things find their own recourse and border,
'Vanity squeezes out ,but biased creed.'
Categories:
wayworn, success,
Form: Lyric
Reflection
By Beverly Stock
Wise and grave was the reflected face,
A youth-grown man in a mirrored space;
While the wayworn face now quite shy,
Grew gentler-lipped and shadowy-eyed;
He heard a low whisper naming him.
That sound from the world's end vast and dim,
Where the sun went wandering out so far
Through a gate in the mountain left ajar,
The sea birds love, and the land birds flee,
The youth-grown man found eternity.
2021©Beverly Stock
Beverly Stock, an American poet, delights in creating “Found” poetry that combines her words with existing poems and other texts in the public domain and brings new meaning to older familiar passages. Visit www.BeverlyStockPoetry.com.
Her first book, The Prayerful Poet, a publication of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, offers a harbor for relaxation and meditation and focuses on the faith-based message. www.theprayerfulpoet.com
The Face In The Stream, a poem in the public domain by Canadian poet Bliss Carman (April 15, 1861 – June 8, 1929), inspired my “Found” poem, Reflection.
Categories:
wayworn, age, destiny, emotions, faith,
Form: Rhyme
Yield to the superior force of that warm, friendly welcome.
Surrender to that well-being of consolatory, feel-good territory.
Submit to a complimented treatment of mental repose for the wayworn;
Capitulate to a gentle and melodious retreat secluded in a shiny enchantment
Of porcelain and metal that will infiltrate your innermost courtyard.
Categories:
wayworn, paradise, peace, water,
Form: Prose Poetry
(continued from The Wayworn Heart Part One)
O' the sorrows that unfold
For any man such as me
Who loves for a woman so passionately
But this love she does not return
O' how the Heart does burn
A sadness a depression sets deep in the soul
Joy fullness is something not to be known
A desire this Heart does bleed
A journey of emotions this body it leads
Take my advice render it well
Never allow your Heart to do as mine
Or misery will be yours full time
Keep your Heart at rest give it a home
Or else the Wayworn Heart
It will leave you to travel wearily
And leave you crying alone.
Categories:
wayworn, desire, emotions, feelings, journey,
Form: Rhyme
With bravado, during a bayamo,
A bashful barbudo
with a propensity for dissentiousness
Flits bottomward, toward a sand encrusted crusado
A crusado, mayhap, wellaway once possessed by
A seafaring hildalgo skittering
Over cirulean crests
What wry musing must the esurient bashful
barbudo mull
While it wends it way to the wayworn crusado?
Once and now tantalized, the fearnought barbudo,
Now disappointed over a once thought commestible
Now ponders
An omen? An augur? A delitescent apocalypse--of doom, or
Delight?
Oh, bashful barbudo, unmew this encrusted crusado: expugate it!
Expurgate it form its extant niche
Release its' recondite spectres anon, without cunctation
What tales may it portend with a tactile congress?
Wend not to your shoals yet; shun the skates importuning
Now before a malevolent maelstrom wrests the soothsayer's crusado
Away
Vocabulary: barbudo-species polydactylus virginicus; crusado-Spanish coin;
esurient-hungry,greedy
Categories:
wayworn, adventure,
Form: Free verse