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Scott Hamm Poem
The decor of laces,
And fragrance of lavenders,
In the land of Georgia,
With attire of antiques,
The melody of wind chimes,
Echoing in harmony with grand piano,
Like heaven is playing harp,
And pearls bursting everywhere,
O, the modesty of it all,
Dressed up in high class,
Candles in rustic brass holder,
Lighting up off white wall,
Exploring ivory artfully crafted everywhere,
Rustic kitchen with wooden floor,
Washing bowl on cherry wooden table,
And outhouse under weeping willow tree,
Shining pond with lilies floating,
With creamy violets encompassing around,
A porch with rocking wooden chairs,
With peach ribbon decor everywhere,
Everything that resembles morality,
Were inked dry with a feather pen.
Copyright © Scott Hamm | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Scott Hamm Poem
After years of life that I've been through,
As a caterpillar in heart so blue,
Growing up in the land of confusion,
And the mentality of seclusion.
Watching at butterflies come and go,
Desirably wanting to fly, Oh,
The intense of inner soul to fly,
But my body and mind won’t comply!
Until there, I saw you.
And it was all about you,
A butterfly of vaporous sapphire wings,
That my soul seemed to want to sing!
You fluttered like a feather in air,
Up there as I stood and stare,
Wanting to fly, but with no wings,
Because I was blind to what future brings!
As you came down to touch me,
On my caterpillar skin as soft as it can be,
Your energy surged into my soul,
That filled up my inner and dreadful hole.
My life finally started the metamorphosis,
Has modified my life so tortuous,
So confused was I at that time,
As my skin started to slime.
As I was encompassed with a strange cover,
As I unknowingly cocoons to discover,
My timing of metamorphosis was meant to be,
And I struggled to reach out to see.
So confused as I continued to change,
As everything seems to me, estrange,
As I see you fluttering away and gone,
My true love anger has turned into chiffon!
Growing the wings still withered,
With pain as I wait to be delivered,
I struggled to break the cocoon,
With a strength of a prune!
So full of desires, I finally cracked,
The cocoon, and from out I retract,
Weakly as I am set free and so bold,
As a new butterfly from life of old!
Fly, oh let me fly, and let me find you,
As I search around in the air for you,
A butterfly of vaporous sapphire wings,
That my soul seemed to want to sing!
Copyright © Scott Hamm | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Scott Hamm Poem
The rapture train is boarding,
On heaven bound railway,
To that Bright and Morning Star,
Filled with blood washed sinners,
Our life with Jesus is rewarding,
Since He is the only one way,
Above and beyond all compare,
Who truly died for all sinners!
The rapture train is boarding,
And the time is running out,
Salvation tickets are free,
Behold now is the time,
This world is storming,
Into the spiritual blackout,
Where devils will roam free,
At the end of time.
The rapture train is boarding,
Going forward, not backwards,
There is only one chance,
Missing it will be days of sorrow,
Left behind in an eternal mourning,
Where everything seems so backward,
And world to hell will transplant,
And yet worse will come tomorrow.
The rapture train is boarding,
Leaving slowly and sure,
Door is still open for all to come,
Now is the time to get aboard,
The free eternal gift is rewarding,
For Christ's love for us is true,
With Him in us we will overcome,
On the eternal rapture train to aboard!
Copyright © Scott Hamm | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Scott Hamm Poem
The acoustic resonance of written poesy,
Is like a fabric of silk, warm and cozy,
The letters, the words are a silk thread,
Interwoven into verses and couplets they spread,
Into a blanket of stanzas and sonnets,
Similes and metaphors of a purpose to recommit,
Over and over and again for gains,
Until words flows freely in our blood veins!
Fondling on articulate, chromatic hums,
Rhyming into a musical reprise it becomes,
The letters, the words, like aurora dancing along,
By syllables, softness and density doth they belong,
Each word so radiant that seems to sing,
Upon sweet skin senses that want to cling,
Gradient of a sonnet free of speck and whole,
Composing mystic melody as our souls extol!
Copyright © Scott Hamm | Year Posted 2023
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