hour 13 poem
the road i knew
from last spring
but did No longer know
this summer
and which i ignored
in the forest
with No fairytales
but just gossips
Three Shades of Loss
Strike a waltz, hear the three shades of loss:
Didn’t train, reached too far, fell asleep.
Though I rise and go on, I can’t win,
Per the rules, I missed that when I snoozed.
Triple-time, triple beat, triple-fail:
Now the best I can do is support
Those who didn’t fall down, who held on.
Look beyond wounded personal pride.
Cheer the winners who write to the end!
Raise a smile with a comment and ‘like’
And my personal goal was achieved:
To rekindle my passion to write!
Disparity
Moneyed diverged from us,
Excessive spending accost are concern on world’s perspective,
Comply at all cost.
Hour 18–In Proverbium
Early to bed
early to rise
makes a regrettable mud in your eyes
Empty unwinding finding
I’m no good at solitary confinement
I don’t like the company
Poem 17
Pansies…
one of the first flowers to appear in the spring,
they last all through the heat of the summer,
and often hang tough through the chill of the first frost.
With their little faces,
pansies are a reflection of our soul…
they are survivors,
they witness so much,
and they always come back.
Eve Remillard
6/14/2015
hour 12 poem
the sky more blue
the Grass more yellow
the field more green
the horses more in a rush
on the dusty countryside road
leasing towards somewhere
lost from my sight…
the lost horizons
always before us
and beyond our reach
Over There
See my grandmother standing over there
Looking at the rainbow beyond the fields
Glitter glints in her eyes, gleams in her hair
Reflecting the compassion she reveals
Her dress is billowing in gentle air
Radiating the harmony life yields
See my grandmother standing over there
Looking at the rainbow beyond the fields
Her laughter is a gift for all to share
Her speech adorned with the purist ideals
Will not contradict the love that she wields
Do you see her standing just yonder there
Looking at the rainbow beyond the fields
by Karen Sullivan
Form: Rondel
Better Late Than Never
Waves crescendo into a mighty wisp,
crashing against the rocks.
Seagulls swoop and dive in a fury of anticipation.
But no sound.
Emptiness.
Silent echos
of nothing.
Memories that stop.
Always dreaming, but never dreamt.
Prelude with no finale.
All being,
but never been.
Nepenthe.
No pain.
In a flurry,
a connection ignites,
Memories flood forward.
A tiny hand reaches through.
Mama, don’t let go.
I won’t, Baby Girl.
Never
again.
Hour 18
The Sky is Uncertain of Rain
The sky is uncertain of rain as it pours
On sand, on the canopy, on shores
I cannot speak for all the skies
But I trust mine never lies
He is different than all of his kin
Prudence with inexperience is his sin
He gathers all strength and compassion
I see he needs them in remission
I see his face change countenance
As rain flees, he denies admittance
But there is a dislike within
He warns nature here in
But they understand not how
They are not to love rain now
When all bliss is brought
When refuge is sought
They know not why rain in all glee
Can dismiss the sky’s prudent decree
And through all our tries in his ways
He defies rain, and away he sways
Too perplexed, an evening of rain
I asked my sky why it gives him pain
To witness the heaven pour down
And find frosty wind in his surround
Hesitant, he replies to me
What we all can’t see
Is as much as love rain brings
There is a certain charm of strings
When all go stray and sin relives
All this power that rain gives
He says he denounces this bliss
For it is his humble wish
All order be restored in his reign
And we may lose not our gain
Gone lost and baffled in rebellion
That rain might bring on its stallion
I assure him of our virtue
Nature understands it’s due
We are not to be lost to a little freedom
Rain might only be an escape from boredom
We remained in battle gentle for some time
One blames rain, one sings it’s rhyme
But however at length I knew not
What I eventually thought
Is rain truly a sinful betrayal
Or the truth of love’s avowal?
I let go of this hefty fight
And returned myself to the sight
Of the deluge of rain that renders
As Nature playfully surrenders
And as the sky though unfelt in his views
Remains compassionate enough to the dew