Lightning strikes with thunderous clap
A thickening fog rolls into the bay
Ships stacked with dead on their back
Set ablaze so they can sail away
White waves crash rocks with sound
Death ships burning fill the background
Men stand still on ridges overlooking
Play pipes for dead soldiers spirit bound
Tall red flames melt through the fog
Release men's souls to fly away
To seek far realms of Scottish Gods
Widows will cry loud this day
Clans in kilts that flap in the wind
Watch ships float further from shore
Men with their pipes stand in the cold
Above the waves on the Scottish shore
Women in black will harvest their tears
Gather their children, they'll have no more
Their lives now poorer filled with fears
In villages along the Scottish shores
Pipes will be played in haunting sound
Songs will be sung and stories told
Memories of sacrifice will endure
In villages along the Scottish shores
5/23/17 Contest Whitsun Premier
Categories:
whitsun, bereavement, character, funeral,
Form: Rhyme
I’m kept hidden in the cupboard,
always under lock and key;
dare not come into the open
how disgraceful it would be!
I sit cramped, my bones are aching,
a dark secret in the dark;
I can’t even take a breather
for a scandal it could spark.
I’m condemned to live forever
out of sight from prying eyes
while my master’s troubled conscience
covers up for endless lies.
How I wish for change of fortune
so the truth will all come out.
It would give me back my freedom
then with joy I’ll jump and shout!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Contest: Whitsun Premier
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Placed: 5th
© 22nd May 2017
Categories:
whitsun, silence,
Form: Light Verse
Imbued with wisdom of the Holy Ghost
who drifted down with blessings upon them
day fifty post-Resurrection Sunday,
Apostles, inspired, spoke in many tongues
for gifts of Baptism Christ had affirmed.
Each year on Whitsun-Pentecost, we meet
to praise and share that holy wisdom too.
Alive with deep belief in hearts and souls,
we pray for blessings from the Holy Ghost
for gifts of growth in this, our Christian faith.
Sandra M. Haight
Categories:
whitsun, celebration, christian, faith,
Form: Blank verse
Tonight, a montage is brushed with a splendor
of glazed branches : an arrangement of russet
teal and orange; dappled wisps enticing
my spirit for a pilgrim beyond my own angst.
In pure delight, tendrils of leaves are aflame
through the glory of a varnished summer.
Feathery rims unfurl in dotted patterns
adorning a cherry tree with iridescent flush
as its arms seem to layout
the stencils of hours' burdens.
Yet, miniature stars flicker on its garment
this cherry timber blowing heavenward,
perhaps content in the grace
of its caressed shade and bloomed fruitage;
enough to guard men from rainfall and sun.
I nestle on the ground, searching for its beauty,
and feeling its silence: a renewed breath heaves
from petals born in earth's clay ,sewn by nature's hands;
ever- entrancing and evergreen.
...................
Brian Strand's Whitsun Premiere Contest
Categories:
whitsun, beauty, nature, tree,
Form: Free verse