Wonders of the Seven Seas

Wonders of the Seventh Sea

Dreaming that I was swimming,

In the turquoise waters of the Coral Reef,

I heard a sinewy voice calling me,

I looked back higher to see clearly,

A big burly character with a cigar in his teeth,

Yelling and laughing and daring me,

To come aboard!

 

Ahoy mate!  Ahoy mate!

Come with me,

To a new dimension – an aquatic fantasy!

Come into the ship and I’ll take you where you

Will never want to leave,

To the deep, deep recesses of the Seventh Sea.

 

The ship was as large as the girth of the ocean,

It had no stern to guide it and made no motion.

Not disturbed by the encompassing sea,

The ship was covered in silver and diamonds

And gold leaf.

 

I swam, so excited to travel the tides,

And discover new places on this seafaring ride.

The bow was set and the staff unfurled,

Off we plunged towards unknown worlds.

Ahoy, ship ahoy! As the ocean swirled.

 

I saw a huge black hole open up in the deep,

And the monstrous ship begin to surge and  steep

Into the whirling waters where darkness creeps,

And encompasses the ship.

I could not tell if I were dreaming

But I felt my heart beat.

 

I was breathing in tandem with the motion of

This watery abyss.

Suddenly, a brilliance of multicolored light,

Consumed the darkness,

Of the most glorious sea creatures,

And ornamental fish.

 

They pulled me toward them by some invisible force,

And though I never opened my mouth,

They answered every question,

Discourse by discourse.

 

I was brought clothing so delicate and intricate,

It felt so moist and light!

The food was so heavenly,

I never thought to leave or take flight.

 

The Captain’s face signaled me it’s time,

To return to the frothy shores,

From my aquatic fantasy, so divine,

But awake I am,

And the dreams no more.

What amazing journeys

Await in the imaginations of my mind!

From ocean to ocean,

Tour to tour..

 

 

 

Shadowed By the Moon – Prompt 10

Shadowed by the Moon – Prompt 10

I am shadowed by the Moon,

When she beckons me to share her journey,

I follow her lead.

 

She has no eyes that she may see,

I try desperately to keep up.

But almost circumspectly,

She knows where I am.

 

Bouncing over Mountains and Skyscrapers,

As if she knows the height and breadth

of every milepost that greets her in the sky.

The Moon has no tongue and she never lies.

 

The Moon staggers not at the Glaciers,

or the cold they impart,

Without legs nothing impedes her performance,

She knows her way back from finish to start.

Never stopping or looking back,

She never leaves me or gets off track.

 

The Moons shadows me.

Strange Food – 9

Strange Food – Prompt 9

I saw a firefly zoom by me,

As if he were invited to drink and eat,

Of the porridge I just cooked.

An aroma of unknown fare,

Captured his attention so much so,

He was not aware that I was there,

Wearing a mask, in my favorite seat!

 

There, on the patio of my cottage,

I sat basking in the warmth of Summer’s heat,

As usual,drinking a cold bottle of Pepsi Cola.

 

He begin to appear lethargic,

Flitting back and forth,

From the yard to the treeline,

Trying to locate this exotic plant,

That produced this strange food,

And  almost caused him to lose his way.

 

Flying forward, buzzing backward,

Wings flapping at an inordinate rate,

He paused in mid-air,

Realizing he was just confused,

And baffled by the hot summer day!

Censorship – Freedom, A Diamante

Censorship – Freedom, A Diamante

Censorship

  System Controller,

Spying, invading, discrediting away

Crying, delivering, marching for the day,

Liberal, a Promoter of

Freedom!

 

A Season to Stand – Prompt 7

A Season to Stand -Prompt 7

Counsel of the suffering, the winds of change are upon us,

Blowing against the climate of discontent and disparity,

Adversities growing to heights as tall as the high-minded privileged,

And as low as the mucky seed of divisiveness and raging white supremacy and anarchist.

The burning Sun reveals the decaying carcasses of hate and greed.

This is the season that winter rains cannot even cleanse nor moisten the harden hearts of man,

Young and old march together in protest on a quest where we have fought before,

 Screaming in unbelief on police cars, they stand crying; people dying in the street,

Faces masked in defeat from a Season that has no reason – where is an opened door?

Who will  rise up and face the dark clouds that have been accumulating?

Who will take a stand

And shops are closed and the old and the youth ponder together where do we go from here,

Grandmas is dying and no one knows that 2-years old Fatima is already dead.

No one is listening to what the doctor said…

This Season has the seeds of solution, but who is willing to stop this contamination of mind –

How can the ground produce fruit, with so many fires to put out; so much pollution.

I saw Falcons fly to my neighborhood seeking refuge instinctively,

Discerning the maddening crowd.

Little food to eat, like us, are forced to retreat, quarantined,

While protest does not bring the deluge of,

Water needed to quench the centuries of inequalities that wrap around America like chains.

People of many heritages sing in the street, “I Sing America Too!.  Dejavu!

Tanks and rubber bullets can’t feel the hearts of men -” they can’t breathe!”

POTUS sits and seethes.

This is the Season to Stand!  “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few!”

Some seasons come in like a Lion and go out like a lamb.

We the people of the United States must

Not ignore the times or the season,

It is incumbent upon us all to get close enough to the fire to put it

out!

The Maypole – School Celebration

The May Pole – School Celebration

The May Pole, a celebration of Spring,

Of things to come, of things to bring

And respite in the glare of the Sun.

To decorate the schoolyard with fun,

With ribbons and flowers for everyone.

 

The ladies and girls dressed up in pastels,

Snickering and chatting – silly little yells

To announce the glory of the moment to rise and stand,

For the spectacular, the miraculous, May Pole Dance;

(The first time for some to grab a Dapper boy’s hand!)

 

The music and frolic of heels clicking the beat,

Around the May Pole they go tapping their feet,

While parents and teachers shout from their seats,

The air filled with the smell of enticing treats.

 

These days were so precious to me,

As a student, as a teacher, we need days like these,

That are just meant for the pleasure,

To be happy and free.

 

Dagwood and Blondie – A Diamante

Dagwood and Blondie – A Diamante

Dagwood

Dagwood was funny and hyper-active,

Sunning, cunning, and protecting his backyard turf.

Blondie was always hiding, resting and waiting to eat.

 Shy and timid, she didn’t know her self-worth

 Blondie.

 

 

A Tribute to “Butch”, Vernon Elborne Wade III

A Tribute To “Butch”, Vernon Elborne Wade, III

A brother to some, a father to many,

Butch never thought his call was too small or uncanny.

With him, you never were alone,

The comfort he would bring you

Made you feel right at home, but you had to stand in line

For he was always on the phone,

Willing to do errands, loan money, sing a song or just be a friend.

 

Butch loved life.  My “Butchie”, I called him dearly

When he came into sight,

And I would cry for hours when he took flight,

Because he was the only sibling, out of nine,

Who could quell my night terrors with a song or a rhyme.

 

We loved him with our hearts on our sleeves,

No matter what we went through,

He always reminded us:

“We our family!”

 

Butch was an unpublished, annotated textbook of accomplishments.

He was learned in Computer Science, language, music, Arts and crafts,

He never entered into any field that would not last,

And he loved archeology,

The study of our past.

 

He could put a whole car together with just a few tools.

He taught me to read, before I was in school,

And encouraged me in math,

Long before I stopped using a stool,

He always told me to use,

So when I  reached each goal in life,

I would never be fooled.

 

Butch had so many skills and worked so many careers,

That teachers made him an honorary staff member,

Amazed at his genius, they didn’t care if he had a teacher’s

Credential, his gifts were unquestionable, they had no fears!

 

His castle was where he lay his head,

His children his greatest treasure,

And no one could size-up Butch,

No scale quite measured the person whose very body could

Not contain the quintessential lover of life, family and friends.

 

Butch fought valiantly against prejudice,

And medical institutions false diagnosis and treatment of black folks,

with treatments that many times were hit and miss solutions,

Unfounded delusions of grandeur,

He was never unsure,

Of his plight and never gave up

To the illnesses that were allowed to fester without sound treatment,

Nor well-tested cure.

 

He too had “the gift” of discerning throughout his life,

What was fair, what was equal, what this world needs.

He took the stage and then, dropped the Mike!

 

Cheers to you Butch, my brother, Vernon Elborne Wade, III,

Many people loved you – many people heard,

Your plight for the people,

Your genius with words.

 

You trained pigeons to know you like we did,

Flocking around their BFF,

Like super excited little kids,

Like you took care of our ducks who came to roost in our backyard,

You had the wisdom to know finding refuge in this world is not easy – it’s hard!

 

But, to Heaven with you, Butch,

We always knew you’d get there before we do.

You’re my National Holiday, royalty, and a King,

Tried and true,

I believe you knew, too!

 

 

 

The Grace To Blossom

The Grace To Blossom

He gave me another chance,

By grace, to blossom;

To breathe again.

Knowing I would fall,

He held the seeds of my new birth,

And set them in a dry place,

I withered and died.

 

Far from Him, I tried to seek my own life,

Wallowing in regrets and strife,

He waited until my eyes

Grew blurry and dim unable to survive,

Without Him.

 

Finding no pleasure in this foolish escape,

I was lost and

Could not rescue  my soul,

I had lost control

Getting lost in unfamiliar rhythms – sporadic beats,

Discord and unsung melodies,

That altered my path.

 

I was blinded by a world I did not recognize,

Yet not caring if I lived or died…falling…lying in

My vanity.

 

Unguided choices threw me into a

Cistern of drowning consequences,

Recompense for rebellion and doubt.

Yet His love guided me and lifted me out,

Righted my fall when on His name I called

And praised Him for His mercy.

 

I found favor as He rescued me from dried places,

In this seed were no traces

Of life to stand.

Yet, by His command,

He planted me by refreshing waters,

Restored, He gave me another chance to blossom,

To breathe again.

 

 

 

 

 

1 2 3