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Jesse Rowe Poem
How does one measure love in scope or scale?
For if such ledger ever was designed
Then logic would over the heart prevail.
So in this way must love be ever blind.
If love be love it cannot count the cost
Or repossess what it in ransom pays.
Expecting such is love already lost
When worth decides whether or not it stays.
But if I must assign it some amount
Let time together be the cost we share
And by that measure, as for love's account,
Let us not leave a coin of it to spare.
I'll precious count each moment yet in store.
My love, I offer all to you and more.
8.17.18
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2018
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Jesse Rowe Poem
The Master left to go away,
But, being wise and just,
He first called forth three servants and
Placed Talents in their trust.
According to their proven skills
He portioned out their share:
Five to the first, the second two
One to the last man there.
And once the Master went away
The man he gave the five
Invested what he had been lent
And made his Talents thrive.
The man who had been given two
Worked hard to earn yet more,
But he who had been given one
Hid his beneath the floor.
After a time the Master came
Returning from his task
And bid his servants come to Him
With but one thing to ask.
"With what I had entrusted you
Now give me your account."
The man to whom was given five
Had doubled his amount.
In turn, the man He'd given two
Had turned them into four.
The Master said, "Well done my sons,
Now I will give you more."
The last whose Talent had been hid
Rushed forth to plead his case.
"I have protected what you gave
Within a secret place."
The Master, disapproving, looked
Upon his share returned.
"What good can hidden Talents do?
They yield no profit earned."
That Talent then He gave to he
Whose faithfulness was proved,
And from the man who had but one
His little was removed.
The moral of this story then
If you have ears to hear
Is we are given portions of
Which we are overseer.
Don't let your talents waste unknown
Whether they're small or great.
Whatever talents you possess
Should even more create.
9.16.18
Contest: Parable of the Talents
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2018
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Jesse Rowe Poem
They said how she ate was absurd;
A "Fatso", they called her she heard,
And ever since then
That poor, baby wren
Just pecked at her food like a bird.
8.31.18
Contest: Any Animal or Creature Limerick
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2018
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Jesse Rowe Poem
I stand here waiting on the sun.
The day seems short and nights are long
I'm left alone to ponder all I've done.
When every path I've taken turns out wrong.
Still I must press on to find my way
Through the deeping darkness of my past
I begin my journey come what may
My eyes must soon adjust to the contrast
Light gives way to night.
So too now
Night gives way to light.
I see the sunlight slip past the horizon
The darkness reaching toward me from below
So now I see and fix my eyes on
A twilight tinting all in reddish glow
As what has been makes way for what will be
Illuminated by sun's warming ray
My hope lies in the light I see
I stand here in the light of day
10.15.18
This is a reversible poem that reads backwards (like by line)
Written for Craig Cornish's I Stand Here contest, ...but it filled up before I could submit.
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2018
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Jesse Rowe Poem
She sat huddled in an alleyway, frozen to the bone
Shivering with the clutch of matches that she sold.
She hadn't sold a match, but so longed to go home
To warm her naked feet from cobblestone so cold.
Shivering, with the clutch of matches that she sold,
She lit a match upon the wall to feel its tiny heat
To warm her naked feet from cobblestone so cold,
But in a moment swiftly, it had spent itself complete.
She lit a match upon the wall to feel its tiny heat.
Faintly she saw her grandmother, beautiful as life,
But in a moment swiftly, it had spent itself complete
Escaping from such misery, biting cold and strife
Faintly she saw her grandmother, beautiful as life
She hadn't sold a match, but so longed to go home.
Escaping from such misery, biting cold and strife
She sat huddled in an alleyway -- frozen to the bone.
Posted: 8/23/2016
Revised: 8/1/2018
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2016
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Jesse Rowe Poem
romantic dinners
and walks together but she
won't know I was there
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2016
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Jesse Rowe Poem
Awaiting Summer's rule to end
Fall sleeps in dream of colored shades.
As sun unwinds its solstice bend,
The hope of autumn soon pervades
While emerald kingdom slowly fades.
When Autumn wakes from her repose,
The cooling wind calls out to trees,
"Come trade your basic olive clothes
For colored raiments as you please
And walk with me upon the breeze."
The kindest queen of all the four,
How graciously does Autumn start.
For all her subjects do adore
Her renaissance of forest art
And come to soothe heat-blistered heart.
9.15.18
Contest: Bring on Fall
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2018
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Jesse Rowe Poem
We work inside a cubicle.
Our faces bathed in bluish glow
Like corpses at a funeral,
But if we're dead we don't yet know.
Instead we numbly press on keys
Within our lidless coffin row.
Complacency is our disease
For nothing changes day to day;
A truth a habit guarantees.
Yet soon this herd with faces gray,
These mindless, faceless, zombie-men,
Will shuffle off each on their way
To find our peace, some rest, but then
Once more at eight we'll rise again.
4 25 2019
Quirky Tercets Contest
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2019
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Jesse Rowe Poem
The maestro conducting the bands
Could get none to follow commands.
Though skilled and respected,
Sadly, he'd neglected
That morning to put on his pants.
2.7.20
For Tania Kitchin's Limerick contest
Confirmed syllable count 8-8-6-6-8
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2020
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Jesse Rowe Poem
Somewhere there is an unused chime
disconnected from its peers.
It lies in untouched, safely silent solitude.
It's veneer is pristine and shiny,
but within is a hollow vacancy.
Elsewhere there is an incomplete wind chime
missing some quintessential part.
It lives in unknowingly incomplete, happy harmony.
Each chime is chipped and worn
but filled with joyous music.
If ever they should be united,
Ah, the song their collisions will sing.
8.27.18
For Contest: Wind Chimes
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2018
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