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Best Poems Written by David Pekrul

Below are the all-time best David Pekrul poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | David Pekrul Poem

Hockey War

Imagine life without a war,
And just a hockey game to score,
When countries start to point the blame,
They take it out in a hockey game.

If someone threatens our coastline,
We face-off on the centre-line,
A slap-shot and a body-check,
By the hockey team from old Quebec.

We'd never need a military,
A hockey team is much more scary,
Instead of running all amuck,
The one who wins, controls the puck.

The winner of this hockey war,
Would best be known as "Hockey Corps",
We'd celebrate a "Hockey Hour",
With Canada, the World Power.

Details | David Pekrul Poem

You Are Perfection

I bestow upon you
my adoration and love,
for I have beheld your beauty,
and am in awe of you.
Your eyes shine
as the stars of heaven,
your lips are the colour of the sunset,
and as sweet as honey.

Your neck is as an ivory tower,
your bosom, like sisters of desire,
your belly, like the hard flat plains of the desert,
and I long to explore the richness of your valley.

My breath is all but stopped
as I gaze upon your loveliness,
at the way your long tresses of golden hair
caress your shoulders.

The way your nose wrinkles
when you smile,
a smile that causes a small dimple
to play upon your cheek.

Beauty is your name,
perfection your attribute,
and I am but a pilgrim
on a journey to worship at your altar.

Look upon me with kindness,
turn not away from my attention,
rather, entertain my longing,
and satisfy my want.

Then my days will be filled with gladness,
and my nights with serenity.
forever will your name be upon my lips,
and your beauty in my vision.


March 16, 2017
Word count: 185
For Free Verse 250 words or less contest.

Details | David Pekrul Poem

The Ember's Pride Made An Ash Out of Him

There he sat among the ashes, thinking he was, oh, so good,
Just a tiny glowing ember that was once a piece of wood,
And he thought that he was better than the embers there that day,
But, alas, he didn't know that soon his pride would turn him gray.

There were many other embers that were crowding out his space,
They were vying for attention and were trying to keep the pace,
He believed they were a nuisance and he felt they were a pain,
And he knew that they were jealous, and it rubbed against his grain.

"I'm an ember in the ashes and I'm burning hot inside,
I've a reason to be boastful and to feel such awesome pride,
For the others here beside me are just living off my heat,
I'm the one who is important; in myself I am complete."

So he sparkled and he crackled and he told them all to move,
For he thought he didn't need them and he had a thing to prove,
So they rolled into the centre and they left him on the side,
And his glowing heart got bigger and it filled him up with pride.

Very soon he seemed to notice such a change inside of him,
For his glowing heart grew weaker and his light was getting dim,
But the others who had left him were still glowing bright and strong,
What had happened to this ember; could it be that he was wrong?

"I'm an ember in the ashes, but I'm feeling very weak,
I once thought I had a future, but it's looking rather bleak,
And the ones who I rejected are still glowing hot and bright,
Now I think I was mistaken and that they were truly right."

Now the tiny little ember, all alone and getting cold,
Sits among the lowly ashes and is feeling not so bold,
And the pride that once he harboured, that would make him spark and flash,
Has betrayed him in this moment and has turned him into ash.

--submitted to Be Didactic poetry contest - May 07, 2017

Details | David Pekrul Poem

My Bonny True - a Scottish Stanza

I walked the roads, both low and high,
In search of where my bonny lie,
And when I found her, I did cry,
My bonny love,
I know her spirit's in the sky,
Far up above.

She's freed from all her earthly woe,
As in the ground she's laid below,
Where fields of purple heather grow,
My bonny dear,
I hear her voice, as breezes blow,
Her voice so clear.

She speaks to me of times before,
When we first met upon the shore,
But that was in the days of yore,
My bonny lass,
My spirit stays, but hers will soar,
And time will pass.

She looks to me from up above,
And gives me peace and sends me love,
On angel wing and snow white dove,
My bonny true,
And as I felt the truth thereof,
Her spirit flew.

Details | David Pekrul Poem

Scratches On the Wall

Four men standing in a row and then one laid across,
Just sticks of time and marks upon the wall,
A measurement of attitude, of loneliness and pain,
But others see it as a lot of scrawl.

Sticks of time, a calendar of wasted days and years,
Just scratches of a life that's gone to waste,
While taking time to tell a tale of life behind these bars,
With years ahead there's never any haste.

Four men standing in a row and then one laid across,
It's now a crowd that stands upon the wall,
As five men turn to twenty-five, then eighteen thousand strong,
With fifty years of scratching on the wall.

Fifty years, an army strong, the witnesses of death,
Accusers to be first to cast a stone,
Such ridicule and torment is a thing that I accept,
For there is not a way I can atone.

Four men standing in a row and then one laid across,
Just four men and the one who holds them tight,
Which binds me in this prison for a life and then a day,
And nothing I can do will make it right.

Details | David Pekrul Poem

Winter Mistress

She reaches out with frozen fingers,
tapping on my shoulder,
looking for attention.

Her crisp, clear breath dances about my neck,
causing me to pull on my collar,
and wrap my scarf a little tighter.

She creates a wonderland of magic,
but one so cold that I avoid her presence,
opting instead for the comfort of a warm blanket,
and cozy fire.

But still, she has her allure.
My curiosity is to know her,
to feel her cold, crystal-like touch,
to feel the numbness in my bones
as she wraps me in her arms.

I hear as it were, a strange quietness,
the stillness of the moment,
the solitude,
and the feeling as if she alone is all I have,
and without her I am nothing.

She captivates me, my Winter Mistress,
my only thought,
my one desire,
until the warmth of spring breaks the spell,
and I am released from her embrace.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

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The Skeptic

So, what’s up with Noah?
He’s building an ark,
From early each morning,
‘Till long after dark.

He’s preaching that there
Will be judgment someday,
And so he just works,
While the rest of us play.

It’s really quite foolish,
This nonsense that God
Will destroy the whole world;
His mind’s in a fog.

For nothing has changed
Since the world has begun,
We’re eating and drinking,
And having some fun.

While we’re having parties,
He’s living in fear,
For Noah’s been building
For eighty-some years.

_________________________

Hey, wait, what was that?
Some drops from the sky?
Hey, Noah’s not kidding !!
We’re all going to die !!

NOAH  ??!!

NOAH  !!!

WAIT  !!!

Details | David Pekrul Poem

Each One Has a Chair

I saw a King upon his throne,
With jewels and regal ware,
And as I looked upon the scene,
I couldn't help but stare.

For I was all but mesmerized,
"Such elegance and flare,"
But then the more I thought of it,
The throne was just a chair.

A chair for rich and royalty,
For powerful and fair,
With privilege and authority,
But it was just a chair.

And then I thought of other ones,
The ones so unaware
Of things that made them what they are,
Some common and some rare.

I thought of those so very poor,
And those who put on airs,
And came to realize one great thing,
That each one has a 'chair'.

Although a King may have a throne,
And we, a stool so bare,
And even if the things we have,
May cause someone to stare,

Let's not be boastful or ashamed,
Instead, our blessings share,
Be satisfied with what you have,
For each one has a 'chair'.

Details | David Pekrul Poem

To Touch the Sky

I stood upon a hill and watched the sun,
It shone much brighter than it did before,
And as I watched, I knew that we were one,
And many galaxies I would explore.
To fly above the clouds and touch the sky,
The silent earth so far beneath my feet,
To wander space, and gravity defy,
This feel of freedom really would be sweet.
Exploring places yet unknown to man,
The innocence of planets never seen,
Of mountains never climbed, nor oceans swam,
A universe where no one's ever been.
And as I stood in awe and watched the sky,
I knew that someday yonder I would fly.

Details | David Pekrul Poem

Country Farmer

I've a tractor in the garden and a tractor in the shed,
I've a tractor in the field and a tractor in my head,
Proud to be a country farmer, I'm outstanding in my field,
And a country farmer I will always be.

I've a plough for turning soil and a disc for planting seed,
I've got lots of cow manure for the crops on which to feed,
Cows and chickens in the barnyard and a porker in the pen,
And a pasture just as far as I can see.

I am just a country farmer, but it's paradise for me,
I am just a country farmer, but it's what I want to be,
Country farming is my future, for it's always been my past,
It is what I do that makes me truly free.

I've a little piece of heaven called a barnyard and a field,
I've a place to seek my treasure and a place where it's revealed,
Cows and chickens and a tractor, crops and pasture and a shed,
Yes, this country farming is the thing for me.

I am just a country farmer, but it's paradise for me,
I am just a country farmer, but it's what I want to be,
Country farming is my future, for it's always been my past,
It is what I do that makes me truly free.