A whisper gently in the night
One that sweetly lingers into daylight
And into days, weeks, months, and years
Quietly walking in faith and extirpating all fears
Silently working like a Yeoman
Standing on my square, firmly holding the master plan
From a long ago when you first whispered to my soul
And over time you have quietly aggrandized me, now making me whole
Like a mighty crescendo as the song plays
A lovely melody now playing in my days
Triumphantly to a new...
So far from few
Now abundance all around...
Sweet blessings from fertile ground
A new day has gloriously dawned...
Big dreams and visions have beautifully spawned
Categories:
yeoman, beautiful, blessing, destiny, dream,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
An amateur archer, Antoine,
Bodaciously bragged beastly brawn.
Crushed counterparts,
Dispatched deadly darts,
Electrified everyone!
Fly fisherman Freddy flung far.
Gadzooks! Great gobbling gar!
He hooked half-heartedly,
Inverted inartfully,
Jettisoned jumbled jig jar!
Kenneth keeps kitchen knives keen
Love’s labors leave lanky, lean
Mills metal mightily
Nibbles Nightly
Overweight outcomes: obscene!
Peter’s pickled picked peppers: premiere!
Quoted quantities: questionable, q*eer
Ration’s Redeeming:
Scofield scale screaming,
Terrifies tongues, torrents tears
Ultimatums unduly unclear
Varnished vengeance veneer
Wipeouts, whiteouts
Xeroxing x-outs
Yielding yoked yeoman years
Zanax-zombified zebras zig-zag zanily, zap zooming zeitgeists
----------
Alliterative, Abecedarian Limericks!
Ran out for 'Z', so I made an alliterative monoku there. This was hard! The last stanza stretches the imagination a bit :-)
Categories:
yeoman, silly,
Form: Abecedarian
Yeoman throw
On another
Cigarette to
Fuel the
Fire
Yeoman
Throw on
Another
Cigarette
To fuel
The fire
Yoe
Man E
Throw R
On an i
Other F
Cig e
Arette h
to t
F U E L
Categories:
yeoman, literature,
Form: Elegy
Yeoman throw
On another
******
Fuel the
Fire
Yeoman
Throw on
Another
******
To fuel
The fire
Yoe
Man E
Throw R
On an i
Other F
*** e
Got h
to t
F U E L
Categories:
yeoman, firework,
Form: Metrical Tale
What gets possibly gained from poetic encounters?
A friendship sets sail though mast’s shadows can’t merge
more than sheets in the wind that two sailors might set in defiance
of oceans, whose trembling waves surf on their opposite shores?
Is it likely ship’s rhythm survives breeze filled waters,
a leaning, you recognize, says what to purge?
You still trust in a star group long past, hope to save an alliance,
you first learned to steer by at night (who trusts sea semaphores)?
Does a ship dare (becalmed) think a storm’s not in offing
or trust if one comes she might make up lost ground?
Winds that rhyme (fill day’s mainsail) may find night time’s whale songs good omen
while night skies can frustrate all reason when stars don’t appear.
A day’s poem’s safe harbor does not lead to scoffing,
in each one’s fond glance, a glad memory found.
A fair hint you admire how it says what it says makes you yeoman,
at least, free or slave, kith or kin. My strong arm holds you dear!
Brian Johnston
28th of December in 2020
Categories:
yeoman, love,
Form: Rhyme
I mounted to a mount,
By viewing the astonishing scenery,
I mounted on a slippery hill,
Hearing voices that is a peril....
I saw an aged yeoman working
On his filed,
Albeit his hard effort
lead him to weary....
I ran toward him
To give him hands,
His smile told a sad story
In the middle of the woods,
I offered him some alms
With proud sympathetic look...
He refused it and
Told his yonder story,
The peasant's land is the dot
From his beloved wife...,
Left him and turned to soul
Made a silent noise in his heart ;
He spent his rest of life
With his wife's dot,
Living in the memory of her
For the rest of his life....
Which ended my proud to abysmal
And created a great respect on him
- In that big Mount woods.
Categories:
yeoman, cute love,
Form: Narrative
I only tell of sunny hours...
I,Gnomon,
Sundial yeoman;
Suntanned sentinel
Stand watch,
Shedding tears for unrequited love.
My cooling shadow stalks sun;
Caresses with timely sunscreen
Sweet sundial’s gilt Egyptian face.
Ask me time of day;
“Shadow knows,” I’ll say.
Shadow will not rest
‘Til sun does nest.
Categories:
yeoman, love, sun, time,
Form: Personification
Down on the pier, the midmorning bright,
Thronged wives, husbands, lovers,
And sons, friends, young daughters,
All eyes perusing the grand and gray ship
In long-simmered hope of glimpsing one face,
One much-beloved grin, among antsy sailors
Arrayed in white jumpers along the tall deck,
‘Til, filing like ants, crew at last disembarked:
A long, gangling line descended the gangway,
Dispersed and filtered, absorbed by the crowd,
One young and trim yeoman elbowing through,
Enfolding his wife—petite, trembling gal—
Into long, lanky arms, her buxom breast pressing,
Squeezing tight to his chest
And stoking, thereby, his half-a-year’s yearning
To hold and be kissed,
To kiss once again this doll from high school—
And the assemblage transformed
By thinning and ebbing away from the pier,
While that sailor still kissed, hugged his wife tight,
Past months dissolving, by love overwhelmed,
‘Til, still holding close, they silently strolled
Relieved he’d returned—
He’d come home to his wife.
Categories:
yeoman, home, marriage, military,
Form: Free verse
SUNLESS IN NORTH SHIELDS
It’s painful when the sea wind
Drives rain into the eyes
At the end of Yeoman Street,
Where I waited so long for that girl in the yellow raincoat,
Who never came.
Seagulls mocking down distant streets
Of Utrillo roofs and closed doors.
At her absence I became an empty sack of strength.
Instead of a warmth of yellow and an inspiration of kisses,
There was only a solitude of tears.
I squinted against the rain, and the whiff of fish,
And the sunless world -
Rough tussocks sloping down to the murky Tyne,
Row of houses huddled against wind and spray,
Sprouting mushroom chimney pots
With jagged edges like jester’s hats.
...............................................................
Note...North Shields is a small coastal port in North East England, always cold even in summer.
Other poems of mine, similar to this, are available at
https://www.fictionmagazines.com/magazines/five/
Categories:
yeoman, rain, teenage, wind,
Form: Imagism
...for my yeoman brothers and sisters
Beneath the ancient ewe, my limbs grow
strong. Ever watchful of the bayn-scurry
crow.These fields I wander know my
footfall well, for thee- I sharpen arrow and
wax my bow. With gifts of chert, and
streams to quench, this land I must
protect.
His Will be mine, my only prayer; swoop
like the hawk when set upon, and tangle
wings in fearsome clench. My lads and I
with feathered hearts, brave winds that
blow; but tumble not.
Darkened skies and chains that rattle;
forge iron limbs like ghosts we battle.
When you pass us on the street, a steady
gait and calm pervades. Calamity our lords
invent, may bend our will, but never
break.
Just as the tide implores the moon; stay
the course! God's Will be true.
03/09/14
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
yeoman, allegory,
Form: Free verse
Footprints on a sandy beach,
will be washed away by morning.
There's a storm out on the open sea,
A thunderclap - a warning!
A lonely ship is tossed about,
and struggles in the hue,
its motley crew begins to shout
at the wicked card they drew...
The ship takes on a starboard list,
the crew jumps in the drink.
Lightning strikes the wooden mast,
the ship is doomed to sink.
Fear fills the hearts of those
from captain down to yeoman,
but yo this rugged life they chose
not heeding sign nor omen.
Are you really safe from shark attack,
while standing on the shore?
A mighty ship in port is safe,
but that's not what ships are for...
Copyright © 2007
Categories:
yeoman, adventure, beach, boat, conflict,
Form: Rhyme
Jesus came as a beloved Son,
Walked on earth as a mortal man,
Just like me, a yeoman.
Jesus lived as the Father said.
Father! Son! Working as one!
Where love alone's won.
Jesus died as a beloved Son,
Though odious to the world,
Whose fate Sin has furled.
One with the Father, Jesus won,
And now reigns from above,
Leaving us safe with th' Dove.
Grace abounds in Jesus' bosom,
Keeps us from many harms,
While we nestle in His arms.
I and the Father are one,
Our heart should thus brim—
The secret of life in Him.
(John 10:29)
Categories:
yeoman, spiritual
Form: Pastoral
Science fiction writers formulate countless stories of trips to the stars.
Telling us about adventures to planets like Venus and Mars.
All their tales take us into a future time and place.
In each of them, courageous pioneers venture into space.
Riding inside their contraptions, they send us to places that are new.
Wandering into the far reaches beyond our sky of blue.
Advancing into worlds very much different from our own.
Yeoman tasks from raw unmitigated courage are grown.
Tomorrow’s space travel is quite enlightening.
Often at times, it can also be frightening.
They may encounter alien beings with greater intelligence.
However, our pioneers may meet those with hideous appearance.
Either way, we advance our knowledge of the universe with experience.
Striving constantly to push the knowledge of our universe.
Taking on challenges of great proportions for better or worse.
All rise to deal with the hardships that may arise.
Roving into strange territories of infinite size.
Seeing for the first time with their very own eyes.
Robert Pettit for Linda-Marie’s “Stairway to the Stars” acrostic challenge
Categories:
yeoman, science fiction, may, time,
Form: Acrostic
Faces seen
Sometimes in a different light,
I see another face not very nice,
Who really isn’t really surely me,
A nasty Irishman, hate filled I see,
Who would free our Northern Ireland,
Other remembered face does dwell,
The face so different, Scotch as well,
Swung the Claymore, delivered hell,
Amongst the English yeoman,
Another face fought in the war,
Me 109 shot down for sure,
But died a fighting, blood an gore,
No parachute would save him.
Sponsor Matt Caliri
Contest Name Mirror
Categories:
yeoman, adventure,
Form: Ballad
They
cut up
the common,
enclosed the heath
and
made
the land
all their own-
putting to the
plough-
once
freemen,
then wage slaves-
as a pauper
lie.
For more on the English enclosure please read
Oliver Golssmith's 'The Deserted Village' or John Clare/William Barnes poetry
Categories:
yeoman, business, history, people, places,
Form: Lanterne
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