The Poetry Marathon

SHE IS FOREVER.

Evenwhen you are lost

She will still find you

In your darkest day

She will crawl back

Wrap around you

And I a firm grip

She will still be yours

Even into rejection

You will have to face her

Fierce or in fear

Of what she is

What she is made of

She will be your own

By family and blood

To love and to cherish

A memory forever

BY THE BOOK.

.Sniffing her large book
She slips into her covers
Dark coffee in hand

IN THE PAST.

In the old days
Mats were weaved with care
And the land Never was bare

With clans living as one without scars
In the old days
Conflicts were very scarce

There was peace and love
Even to homes on hills above
In the old days

HOME.

One day I will come home to you.

Where my first father’s lived
Between the two ridges wide apart
Separated by the great historic valley

I will walk in your dew filled grazing fields
Where cattle feed all day
And go back to rest in the dusk

With my face against the wind I will ran across to where the sky meets the tree tops Joyfully for you are full of fresh fragrance

I will come home to embrace you

Child of the Kingdom.

Iam thankful today
For the life without reserves
Plenty of love and care
From your bosom

For the life without reserves
I am quenched of my needs
From your bosom
I delight every single day

I am quenched of my needs
By your saving hand, mighty
Your purpose I will live
I am thankful today

Hello Love.

How we met is strange

Daring I was, I bet

It was love at first sight

For me, and you felt the heat

You warmed into me

Sparked a fire within

Like a Firefly at midnight

You made beauty within

Beyond the treeline I’ll rise

Just to reach for you

So I can hold you now

And also beyond now

In my little cottage you’ll stay

And I will make your stay happy.

WILD.

Jungle animals giving a sight
Traipsing through the trees,wild
Unafraid of wandering ghosts
Scared are the humans
Brave are the game beasts.

SEASON OF THE GHOST.

It is that time of year again
When I work hard without gain
For every penny is spent in the clinic
Some even think I am a psychic

It is that time when i hear voices
Speaking in to my choices
And I change my every route
Maybe to make a new routine

It is that scary of moments
When I cannot take critic comments
For my soul is cold and lonely
Of staying at a big home solely

It is that month of the year
The one I can hear rain beating clear
And I sleep with the lights on
Afraid of where I will wake on

It is that time when in the bath I slip
When I see the image in my mirror
And my mind turns muddy
It that season so fuzzy

MY WORKDAY.

To the blasting music I wake
For a busy weekday I wake

An old paperback I get reading
While the pot hot brewing

A cup of coffee in my hand
I stare at class assignments at hand

Today researching and answering
Class texts I am questioning

At lunch, meals cooked at home
My family chatting away, wholesome

Every afternoon a poem I write
Always hoping I get it right

As the sun goes down
To it’s rays I am drawn

Dinner time gets me excited
For with my folks, food and drinks served

And with the night lights on
I read my bedtime series on and on.

SWEET MEMORIES.

By the lake we sat
In the cloudy dark night
Reminscing the past
Of wrongs and rights

By the breezing shore
We watched the stars
Just like long before
When we were youngsters

In that night we talked
Of our hopes and fears
Some that never happened
While we lived in tears

We were full of life
With our friends in tune
And without any strife
Just like a live fortune

As the night grew cold
We huddled underneath
A tree near the threshold
While waiting the night out.