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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
"Shopping List"
Sister Kathy's going shopping and she's asked me for my list,
Needing LOTS of help, so I could not her, resist...
I have a Shopping List not too very long,
But the items listed must be sadly wrong.
My list was made awhile ago, still incomplete,
For it seems I'm shopping for things obsolete,
Or at the least rare, very scarce to uncover,
No longer cultivated, to find, to discover.
At the very top is Love, which should be everywhere,
But not so easy is it to find, leaving me in despair.
I can find ego alright, aplenty all around,
But humility? ..So little to be found.
There's apathy and indifference, an abundant supply,
But finding empathy and compassion, the well's gone dry.
Everywhere I turn, there's justification freely spread,
Yet, no accountability found, as others are on, tread.
Truth and honesty are on my list, second from the top,
It seems though, they're out of stock every place I shop.
While lying and deceitfulness are generously promoted,
Handed out like candy, so sweetly, sugar coated.
Honour and respect have become out of season.
Patience and acceptance have lost all their reason.
Gratitude and thankfulness left with news of yesterday;
Now everything is about 'me' the headlines read and say.
Other things I've listed like kindness, hope, and caring,
Compassion and forgiveness, not many up for sharing.
Understanding's not in style, a fad of yesterday,
Passing judgement onto others now on display.
Modesty and privacy, their contracts have run out,
With ostentatious behaviour flaunted all about.
Consideration for others, indefinitely placed on ice,
Manners and politeness gone, along with friendly, nice.
All the many values to build character needed,
Integrity and virtue, all practically depleted.
Principles and convictions, rocks on which to stand,
Have all but washed away, leaving only shifting sand.
I made my list awhile ago but without much success,
For all the shopping done has caused me great distress.
Even words I'm shopping for can't be found with ease,
Like, "I'm sorry" or "Thank you" or the one, "Please".
I never thought my list to be so arduous a task,
Until I went shopping and then I had to ask,
For items I thought to be to all near and dearly,
Their scarcity alarms me, saddens me severely.
Up and down I've searched, aisle after aisle,
A rarity indeed should I see a happy smile.
I enter every store, every shopping mart,
Hoping just to fill my empty shopping cart.
I am lucky if I can find just one or two or three
Of the items I've been searching for in every shopping spree.
But the saddest thing of all on my list, at the very top,
Is that genuine Love is hard to find no matter where I shop.
What's so really sad you ask about Love in short supply?
Because Love is within all of us, but still we shun it. Why?
It does seem my Shopping List is much longer than I thought,
But surely ‘twould be nice to find everything I’ve sought.
It is my wish one day to find abundantly all of the above,
And shining in everyone’s hearts the item we know as Love.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2014-05-04
All rights reserved.
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
As the life of the day nears its last breath,
With a glow of crimson, forewarning its death,
Upon its cresting, the reflection, daunting,
The sea sets free a beauty, haunting
The depths of its treasures of unknown span,
The Queen Of Pearls, secluded from man.
This queen, a beauty of figure, a maiden so fair,
With glistening gold locks finer than Pele's hair
And eyes that blend with her homing sea green,
Lips sweeter than honey for a honeycomb's queen,
Once a fortnight, this Queen Of The Sea,
As Mr. Moon swoons, she comes for me.
I wander each eve along the sea's shore,
When near is the time, I long, live for,
Watching intently for the tell tale sign
Of soon again, she will be mine.
Though my patience is tried over many a night,
I know very soon the time will be right.
"Will I see her again; will she come out?"
Puncturing my heart with needles of doubt,
Is fear I'm pained with before each time we meet,
As though and worse than gripped by mesquite.
Then as the tide comes in, over the incoming foam,
For an auspicious clue, my eyes desperately roam.
The sign, the signal, I must not miss
For I can taste so sweet her magical kiss.
My heart couldn't take the grief of such woe,
If I were to become no longer her beau.
The pressure is on, for surrounding me
Is somewhere a message, elusive, a mystery.
Each time the message comes in by way of unique,
For I must earn and prove I'm worthy to seek
This maiden so fair of beauty unsurpassed
And continually I must, if our Love is to last.
Only one common factor am I to ever know;
A pearl will appear, in some way show.
Her signature, a pearl, confirms her request
And one of the finest, only the best.
My Love is not just a queen of the deep sea;
She is the Queen Of Pearls, her royal majesty.
Sometimes I wonder why it is I she chose,
But it's a secret kept, for the sea only knows.
Once a seagull brought and dropped one in the sand,
From the sky above, next to me to on purpose land.
Another time, a sea lion rolled in with the tide
And flipped a pearl to me as he winked with pride.
Yet, another time, I was beckoned out into the sea,
By a whale that spouted a pearl then straight to me.
As my anxiety grows to an unbearable state
And just when I feel I can no longer wait,
With flippers anchored and a look of daring,
In a coat of gold, his mischief, baring,
I knew at once that what I sought
Was now before me with a troubling thought.
For I knew a challenge he had predesigned,
To acquire this pearl would take wit of mind.
Since my heart's condition was at stake,
I had no room for error nor one mistake.
What would be tempting too much for him;
Catch him off guard to forfeit the gem?
Through files of thoughts I ran a quick scan,
Searching to find the one fool proof plan.
Then he made a face at me and straight away
It triggered a thought from a yesterday,
When Andre, the seal, harboured a 'tude,
He stuck out his tongue and blew to be rude.
So, like Andre I leaned in and did the same,
At the seal's face, I took a precise aim.
I stuck out my tongue and blew in his face.
Surprised, he hadn't time to against me, brace.
The temptation too great, he returned the favour
And the pearl became mine only to savour.
Though he was unhappy he had been tricked,
I was elated as my dilemma had been licked.
With all my strength, clenched in my fist
Was my ticket to passion when I was kissed
By my maiden of Love to meet on the pier,
Where soon now I knew she would appear.
As though on wings, my feet did fly
To the pier in waiting where at last, I
Would be joined in Love with my queen,
As soon as she appeared upon the scene.
When I arrived, she was waiting there
To rise out of the sea, my maiden, fair.
As she rose, I pulled her so close to me
And as we locked our lips, she magically
Transformed into a lady, full human form,
Extraordinary and far from norm.
We danced, made Love; laughed and cried,
Baring all of our emotions from inside.
No moment was wasted, no second in time,
In sync we were with both rhythm and rhyme.
But time flies by too quickly it seems,
When you're with the only star of your dreams.
All too soon a new day was being born
And a sun of gold was greeting the morn.
As she stood on the pier elegantly dressed,
All onlookers couldn't have ever guessed
That my lady, my queen, lived in the sea
And transformed back, she soon would be.
As we were saying our sad good-bye,
A flock of witnesses then flew by.
Letting her go each time to return to the deep,
Is harder than the promise to her I made to keep.
Though I'm elated with joy, new memories made,
I must again for a fortnight through longing, wade.
As she slips quietly back into the waiting sea,
My tears like rivers, shower her adoringly.
The returning back to my homing place,
With my tears washing my distraught face,
I clutch the pearl, the precious stone,
And seek only now with myself to be alone.
Since there's nothing better than the best,
I can only look forward to her next request.
I hear a persistent knock upon my door,
As I awaken, for me, someone's looking for.
At first confused, I glanced around,
As again came that knocking sound.
"What a dream of fantasy. Wow!" I thought.
But then a pearl from my dream along I'd brought...
Picture This Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Image 3
2018/03/28
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
When I became a mother, tremendous joy filled my heart,
But little did I know about this journey at the start.
I thought I knew what Love is, even Love profound,
With every cry and coo, every babbling, baby sound.
All my protective instincts kicked in naturally
And giving was a pleasure to my child, especially.
My heart was filled with Love to a degree without scope.
Everything of myself I invested in the center of my hope.
All the times when my child was so sick and listless;
Although I did all I could, I felt completely helpless.
Then all the worldly woes my child would be subjected to,
Like in school, the bullying, they'd have to suffer through;
All the cruelties of life a mother would gladly take on
To spare her child grief and sorrow, a mother woebegone.
All the sleepless nights don't end in their infancy,
They're just the prelude to all the years of worry yet to be.
When the teen years roll in though and on into early adult,
Mother becomes rather unimportant, is blamed for all the fault.
Suddenly the mother becomes stupid, the teen knows everything
And feels embarrassed when mother, along with, they must bring.
Many hurtful words are said that stab and bleed a mother's heart,
But unconditional Love remains though her heart is torn apart.
Still, her child is her child to Love, to guide, protect;
Harm her child and mother's wrath one won't wish to resurrect.
When one becomes a mother, there are years of sacrifice;
This role is for life and can't be bought for any price.
Each memory she cherishes, sustains her when she's forgotten.
Still she'll never trade for anything a child she's begotten.
A voluntary position with demands like no other role,
A mother signs on for, for life to always Love another soul.
I thought I knew what Love is, even Love profound,
Until with motherhood I was blessed and forever crowned.
When I became a mother and a life was trusted in my care,
So much more I understood for it's then I became aware
Of all my Mother's endless Love, multiplied by ten.
As a mother, from a mother, I've learned what Love is time and time again.
Entered in 'Non Romantic Love - Poetry Contest'
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
2018-04-07
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
I want to share a bit of info I think everyone should know.
It may make life a little easier as through life you go.
People come equipped with a number of traits, good and bad;
With some that will delight you and some will make you mad.
The two traits here I mention are unpleasant to come across
And they can leave you frustrated, your temper up for toss.
But if you'll just step back and breathe a minute, maybe two,
Your composure you will gain back by following this clue.
Other people are never jealous of your negativity;
They are only jealous of you for your 'quality'!
Others do not envy what 'you' have 'not';
They envy what you 'have' that 'they' haven't got!
Jealousy and envy are nothing more than 'inverted' admiration;
Do yourself a favour, turn 'em around, and feel the liberation!
Accept these traits as compliments, for in essence it is true,
And by graciously accepting, they'll have more to envy you!
If you always keep this in mind, yourself, you will spare
Any grief or anguish you may feel when either's in the air.
Though jealousy and envy are projected with much ill intent,
If you receive them as blessings, you'll wisely circumvent.
But if you're on the other side and you're the one doling out
This jealousy and envy, remember to what you're giving clout.
If you're envious and jealous, you're harbouring admiration,
Like the negative of a picture, undeveloped captivation.
Oftentimes in life it's easier if we cultivate an objective
To seek a different, better way and change our perspective.
Whenever we can change the negative, give it a positive spin,
We reap the benefits of and the reward is then, a win.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2017-05-08 14:27:00 (EST)
All rights reserved.
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
Do not mess with Mama Bear; leave her cubs alone
Or the life you place in peril, could well be your own.
Papa Bear can be ferocious and attack, this is true,
But Mama Bear will do damage and deliver hell 'to' you.
Mama Bear's most treacherous when she is protecting;
Mess with her cubs and she'll definitely be collecting.
Payback is a bitch and know, it will surely be in spades.
You'll wish she was just an alligator in the Everglades!
By the time you realise she's hot upon your trail,
All your efforts to escape will be to no avail.
She'll never lose your scent nor stray from her mission,
Until 'her' satisfaction comes to its fruition.
This could take a looooong time and it likely will,
Since hurting a Mama's cub comes with an attached bill,
A debt that is unpayable according to Mama Bear.
Threaten her world, you will have agony to spare!
Her cubs are her life. Her apron strings aren't ever cut.
If you dare to harm her cubs, expect a new hole in your butt!
She'll accept no excuses; for life you'll be in debt.
On her hook you shall remain and she never will forget!
Hurt a cub of hers and she will surely hunt you down
And only verbs will follow; there's no action in a noun.
The dictionary has no word to describe Mama Bear's wrath
And her ways of retribution are incalculable by math.
Let this be a warning with an urgency to heed.
Dismiss and disregard and face a law decreed.
Mama Bears, when their cub's wellness is at stake,
Seek their own justice should you make this mistake!
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-04-14 00:23:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
Her wedding day was beautiful, when she wed her beau,
Innocent and trusting, so little did she know
About the man who had stolen away her tender heart
And now wed to him she was, 'til death do they part.
The best wife she could be was her innermost desire.
She cooked, cleaned, and kept well stoked their fire.
Her top priority, her husband and always number one,
By day she worked and gave herself when day was done.
Making him a happy man was her role as his wife.
She did all she could to give him a very happy life.
But friends and family still mattered much to her too,
Though finding time for them was becoming hard to do.
Her husband made it clear what of her he expected
And when she took time for others, he felt neglected.
So, less and less time she had to with others share
And for herself as well, but her hubby didn't care.
More and more demands he expected of his loving wife,
Subtle ways to achieve being in control of her life.
Because she loved him so much, her aim was to please,
She was too blind to see what he was working on to seize.
Then came the remarks, he would say were in jest
But then he'd add, she wasn't giving him her best.
He became more critical, increasingly more cruel
And then the name calling, abusive ridicule.
Since she loved her husband, she trusted him as well,
She blamed herself for failing him, too ashamed to tell.
Her thoughts became consumed of ways to earn back his respect,
But the more she tried, the more her husband seemed to object.
Disagreements became heated when she'd herself defend.
Giving in to him was the only way an argument would end.
Each argument he won, he would gain more ground,
Convincing her his mind was the only one sound.
He would then start arguments for the sake of belittling,
As he knew her self worth and esteem, away he was whittling.
Then one day he slapped her so hard across her face,
As he enjoyed the look of terror he put in its place.
The power from it he felt made his warped ego soar
And so, he continued to beat her down to the floor.
The more she cried to stop him, the more empowered he felt,
As he watched his handiwork add another swollen welt.
As he primed her into being his obedient slave;
As she begged for her life for him to save,
He blamed her for his actions, made her to, agree
She deserved her punishment, to swear as her precis.
And so, the loving wife became a fearful, sullen bride,
Seeking ways to, her battered and bruised body, hide.
Her marriage, an entrapment, she dreamed of escaping,
But images embedded across, through her mind, were draping.
While the husband she loved once became a monster unexpected,
Made it his ritual to abuse her like an art to be perfected,
Her world became darker, more dismal, trapped in isolation,
As her life once so vibrant was nearing suffocation.
There was no one to rescue her because to the world outside,
She was still to her husband his loving, lovely bride.
Behind Closed Doors she suffered, paralyzed in fear
And only with her last breath did her freedom then appear.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-04-30 23:14:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
If to be a winner, I must first suck up,
Then instead, I will gladly lose.
If to gain popularity means kissing butt,
Then a path alone I will seek and choose.
If to climb the ladder is scoring brownie points,
Then a different ladder I will choose to seek,
A ladder where is required integrity and virtue
And having such will not get me treated like a freak.
I will not blindly follow along the path of others,
On the path of least resistance the majority on, trod;
Where the path accepts, condones lesser traits
And where I'll be led away from the Lord, my God.
The ridicule of humans, the whispers behind my back,
Will not a bloody difference to me ever make
Nor tempt me to change my course of direction,
Knowing the path well traveled also hosts the fake.
When one has experienced the dishonesty of others,
The betrayal by many and lack of trustworthiness,
The superficial charm of wolves dressed as sheep,
One then seeks to avoid all such human shallowness.
My Path in life has been a tough row to hoe,
With many wishing I would fail all along the way,
But all's given me strength and courage to persevere
And tremendous insight that in my poetry I portray.
If by a 'muse' I am directed, then my Muse is God,
For it is He who has Gifted me, therefore is deserving
Of my praise, appreciation, my deepest gratitude
And through it all He Loves me, while humans are reserving.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2017-07-11 10:29:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
In every heart there lives a rose amidst the prickly thorns,
Regardless of the daunting thicket guarding as it warns.
To the easily discouraged, those who won't the time, spare,
The rose remains obscure, non-existent, hidden there.
But to those who know beauty isn't always in plain sight,
They will take the time to look instead of taking flight.
When within a heart's discovered the beauty of the rose,
The thorns become softened as the rose, it larger grows.
Do not be misled by thorns designed to disguise,
But seek the rose within a heart, where the beauty lies.
Focus on the beauty, encourage and cultivate,
Help one to grow their Rose Of Love instead of thorns of hate.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2015-02-23 13:03:00 (EST)
All rights reserved.
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
A Picture Of Oneself contains not too much to tell,
Except the package showing that in which they dwell.
This is the only purpose a picture has and does,
Telling nothing about the person who is or was.
A Picture Of Oneself shows nothing that's inside.
Who is the real character that within does reside?
Are they a soul with compassion, full of empathy
Or are they all about themselves with only apathy?
How much do they care? How much do they Love?
Are they ego driven with pride derived of?
What character traits does the picture of possess,
One of integrity, virtue, along with humbleness?
Do they seek and tell the truth or do they lie?
Do they have a code of ethics they only live by?
What do they aspire for in life and/or hope to gain?
Do they care how or if it's by causing others pain?
What are they feeling, happy with joy in their heart
Or are they battling pain in their deepest, inner part?
What have they been through; what have they endured?
Have they overcome with an outlook, healthy and secured?
All the aspects of a person are left unaddressed
In a Picture Of Oneself, the real is oppressed.
The packaging is glorified, says nothing of its host;
Though appearance is deceptive, it tends to matter most.
Technology would surpass itself and be truly smart,
If there was a camera that could capture one's heart.
All the devious hearts wouldn't have invisibility
And all the hearts of beauty would shine then brilliantly.
A Picture Of Oneself may preserve one's appearance;
May be used to con others and to run interference.
But a Picture Of Oneself, nothing does it tell.
It's just a package picture, a picture of one's shell.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-04-13 08:55:00 (EDT) All rights reserved.
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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Sharon Artsieladie Donnelly Poem
Easter will again be here and very soon,
But Easter brings sadness I cannot seem to prune.
After my Mother left, Easter's not the same
Since our Lord, to bring her home, called upon her name.
Easter this year in two thousand and eighteen
Will be even harder, I cannot contravene.
For my little girl, who's not so little any more
Will spend this Easter far away, on a distant shore.
So many memories of Easter though, will decorate my brain,
As I turn back the clock, letting all share the reign.
All the Easter baskets and the Easter hunts so fun,
Each memory I dust off carefully, every precious one.
I'll watch the Ten Commandments, keep our tradition true,
Remembering Easter's true meaning, Jesus is why we do.
When God Sacrificed His Son, what a Sacrifice He made,
For through the Blood of Jesus, our sins for, He paid.
When I think of God being stricken so with profound grief
To watch His Son suffer on the cross forbidden of relief,
This brings to mind surreally the magnitude of pain
I'm unable to comprehend and my tears I can't restrain.
For I think of my daughter and all those overseas,
Who put their lives on the line without guarantees
They'll come home safe and sound when their tour is done
And also, all the families who've lost a dear, loved one.
I know this is not the same but I more so realize
And I am humbled so profoundly as I can't visualize
The cost of God's Sacrifice because God so Loves us all
And to my knees it brings me, for I can only God, extol.
Easter 2018 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
2018-03-30
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
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