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Shirley Petrandis Poem
An Ode to "Yog"
East Finchley boy, born 63’
But Kingsbury- grew up did he.
And there he met a soulful lad,
Andrew became his new comrade.
Together did they form a band,
And toured strong, throughout the land.
But soon, the call to go alone,
Led him to venture on his own.
So, George Michael became the name,
He'd use to claim the world in fame.
Respect, he earned, from far and wide,
He bore the scars, lay wait the pride.
His voice, truly a gift from God,
His look made him a young heartthrob.
His burdens, carried, like a cross,
His choices, varied, he was his boss.
When scrutinized, he persevered,
The songs he wrote, soon all revered.
Straight from the heart, he spoke his mind,
A private man, yet giving and kind.
Still, blind some were in their attempts,
To bring him down and keep him spent.
Yet in the end, his words rang true,
Throughout the world, and heaven too.
Now known for his integrity,
This selfless man of rarity,
Whose soul lives on, within his songs,
Great artist, man, to God, belongs.
Shirley Petrandis
© 2018
Copyright © Shirley Petrandis | Year Posted 2018
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Shirley Petrandis Poem
"Lie still now, soldier", the Union General said,
As he knelt down beside the boy’s bloody, wounded head.
The dying young lad, no more than fifteen, if a day,
Wore the blight of cannon, and being in its way.
The General swallowed hard, to fight back the pressing tears,
Before he gazed upon his soldier, now less limbs and gear.
"Is it b-bad?" the soldier asked, in a voice filled with fear.
"Not at all,” the General lied, knowing the boy had not a prayer.
"You’ll soon be headin’ home," he continued in a whisper.
"Back to your mammy and your pappy, and your favorite dog, Kipper."
The soldier forced a smile and then closed his swollen eyes,
"Why Sir, I think I see them! Looks like ma baked me two pies."
The General shuddered knowing, the lad's folks died years ago,
And the dog named Kipper-- killed in an avalanche of snow.
He only knew these things, since he had taken the boy in,
As this dying soldier's father had been the General’s next of kin.
"This bloodshed has to stop" the General groaned and shook his head,
"Did our boys grow up together just to shoot each other dead?"
"Must be something I can do!" he shouted, rising to his feet,
To be silenced by a bullet as it grazed across his cheek.
The soldier took a breath, his head fell back- eyes open wide.
The General took his sword and laid it by the boy’s side.
"Go now, son," he said, "back to those you love,"
"And give them my regards; in fact give your pa a shove."
Sudden, in the distance, he heard another soldier’s cry,
"The South just surrendered as stated by a Union spy!”
The General stood up slowly and brushed off his dusty knees,
Wiped away a single tear, returning to his company.
Copyright 2006/Shirley Petrandis
Copyright © Shirley Petrandis | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Shirley Petrandis Poem
What lies between, bears the truth.
The words that are never spoken.
The promises made that are broken.
Certainty- but an illusion.
As is love.
Truly unseen, but for what the heart beholds,
And to what life dares unfold.
Voiceless grievances veiled behind smiles.
Manufactured stories,
Designed to manipulate,
Easy to articulate.
Deceptive just the same.
Innocence lost in a whisper,
A play of words,
Intent deferred,
And decisions made in the heat of it all.
Arguments ensue,
From far-reaching points of view.
Misunderstandings- many,
As the answer escapes the question,
Devoid of reverence and definition.
You want for something more,
A validation for your persistence,
Confirmation of your existence.
Yet, you hear only what you choose.
All of which you stand to lose.
Somewhere therein lies the truth.
For it’s only when you can close your eyes,
And hear the music within the silence,
That you will know your word’s true meaning.
Shirley Petrandis©2006
Copyright © Shirley Petrandis | Year Posted 2018
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