A Simple Sonnet
First Verse
In shadows cast, a lover’s heart shall dwell,
Obscured from sight, a secret fire shall burn.
From distance, silent longing they must quell,
As passions hidden, deep within, they yearn.
Their gaze, a gentle touch, from afar,
A stolen moment, bound by covert art.
The whispered words, a clandestine memoir,
Embracing hope, yet worlds apart they chart.
In twilight’s cloak, they linger and they watch,
A silent witness to love’s sweet charade.
Their love, a flame that no one else can touch,
A tender tale that secrecy has made.
Oh, secret lover, bound by fate’s cruel hand,
Your love endures, in shadows you shall stand.
Second Verse
As moonlight bathes the scene in softest glow,
The secret lover’s heart beats with desire.
Each stolen glance, a seed of love they sow,
Aching to quench their passion’s hidden fire.
But fate’s cruel hand forbids them to embrace,
Their love confined to whispers and to dreams.
Yet still, they find solace in love’s sweet chase,
Bound by a thread as fragile as moonbeams.
Though distance separates their tender souls,
Their hearts remain forever intertwined.
In hidden love, a symphony unfolds,
Unseen by eyes, a love story defined.
Oh, secret lover, in shadows you reside,
Your love, a treasure no one can deride.
Petrarchan Sonnet
Amidst the harsh embrace of hardened stone,
Where urban dwellings claim the crowded land,
A scene of nature’s grace is proudly shown,
A testament to life’s tenacious hand.
In fields of concrete, where no life should dwell,
A splash of color breaks the monotone,
As fragile blooms their stories gently tell,
Defying odds, their beauty brightly shone.
With tender petals, like a whispered plea,
They rise above the urban symphony,
A quiet rebellion ‘gainst the mundane.
Their fragrance dances on the stagnant air,
A gentle reminder, beyond compare,
That nature’s spirit shall forever reign.
For in this desolate and sterile place,
Their presence offers solace and release,
A beacon of hope amid the concrete,
That life persists, and beauty can’t be beat.
Oh, flowers brave, with hearts so resolute,
You teach us lessons hidden in plain sight,
To find the strength to bloom and take our flight,
When circumstances seem to persecute.
In petals delicate, a story’s told,
Of perseverance and resilience bold,
That beauty thrives in unlikely abode,
When love and nature’s force become our code.
So let us cherish every fragile bloom,
In fields of concrete, a living heirloom,
For they remind us of our own rebirth,
And the inherent worth of life on Earth.
Twilight’s SOng
NOTE: This is my first attempt at a villanelle. Villanelle is a fixed verse form and comes from Latin for pastoral. The villanelle is a very rigid form of poetry. It consists of 19 lines comprised of five tercets (3 line stanzas) and one quatrain (4 line stanza). Each line is 8 to 10 syllables. The first and third line of the first tercet rhyme. The first and third line also repeat alternating at the end of each following tercet. The last two lines of the quatrain repat both the first and third line from the first tercet.
The sun has set, the moon is gone.
Time marches forward to a new dawn.
The air is filled with the cricket’s song.
Another day’s dreams too far gone.
Light fades orange to black sky.
The sun has set, the moon is gone.
Night birds invite all to sing along.
A buzzing whirl of sound surounds.
The air is filled with the cricket’s song.
Silence frm night’s darkness is drawn.
The abyss of noise grabs at my ears.
The sun has set, the moon is gone.
Days end met with an evensong.
The earthh turns to break a new dawn.
The air is filled with a cricket’s song.
I whisper I loved you to the wind.
As the earth continues on its spin.
The sun has set; the moon is gone.
The air is filled with a cricket’s song.
Where Has My Color Gone?
Multi-colored stone cobbled steps rise
above the busy streets, lined with begging
orphans and old women in brilliant scarves
I am a stranger in this bizarre land.
Gnarled hand reaching from a tattered sari
dark leathery crooked fingers grasp at
my trembling hand, so pasty next to hers
Where has your color gone? She softly askes
Are you ill, dear? She tenderly questions
Your eyes are clear like newly frozen ice
Your fair skin lily white like winter snow
Where has your color gone? she says aloud
The walking stick bound tight in bright ribbons
bounces along the rough cobbled walkway,
worry clear on her deeply wrinkled face
Where has your color gone? She pleads.
A land so colorful, unlike my home
My skin is pasty in a sea of dark
my eyes pale amid dark questioning pools
Whispering now, where has your color gone?
Quietly her prayers rise upward for me
Oh, bearer of light, please bring the color
back to this lost soul, she ardently begs
Now I wonder, where has my color gone?
The Grey
In shades of gray, a majestic form does stand,
An Appaloosa horse, a beauty of the land.
His coat, a tapestry of muted tones,
Whispering stories only the wind condones.
His mane, a river of silver threads,
Flowing freely as the moon softly treads.
Eyes, like orbs of obsidian deep,
Hold ancient secrets that the night does keep.
Hooves strike the earth with a gentle grace,
Leaving behind no trace of haste or chase.
Through meadows and valleys, he roams free,
A symbol of strength, untamed and wild as can be.
His spirit dances with the sunlight’s gleam,
As if chasing dreams within a timeless dream.
Muscles ripple beneath his tranquil stride,
A living portrait, where art and life collide.
Amongst the greyscale canvas he appears,
A living poem that stirs hearts and tears.
Each flicker of his tail, a brushstroke refined,
Captivating souls with a presence so kind.
Oh, gray Appaloosa, embodiment of grace,
Within your presence, time finds its rightful place.
Through the verses of my pen, your essence unfurls,
A muse in motion, a poetry that twirls.
In this ekphrastic realm where words transcend,
A testament to your beauty, I extend.
Oh, gray Appaloosa, forever you shall be,
A masterpiece of nature, both wild and free.
My Beloved Grandfather
In loving memory of a cherished soul,
Whose presence in our lives made us whole.
Today we gather, with heavy hearts, to say,
Farewell, dear grandfather, as you journey away.
In the tapestry of life, you wove a thread,
A patriarch strong, in wisdom you led.
Your gentle voice, like a lullaby’s embrace,
Guided us through life’s tumultuous chase.
With each passing day, you imparted grace,
A steadfast presence we could always trace.
In your eyes, a twinkle of warmth and care,
Your love, a fortress, beyond compare.
Through countless stories, you painted a scene,
Of a life lived well, with triumphs and routine.
Your tales of yesteryears, forever engraved,
In the hearts of generations, eternally saved.
You taught us to value the simplest of joys,
To cherish laughter, to mend broken toys.
Your patience, a virtue, a beacon so bright,
You taught us to persevere, to shine through the night.
Your hands, weathered and worn, but tender and kind,
Guided us, comforted us, with love intertwined.
The lessons you taught, in deeds and in words,
Are the legacy we’ll carry, like soaring birds.
Oh, how we’ll miss your wise counsel and care,
Your presence, your love, beyond compare.
Though you’re no longer here, in physical form,
Your spirit lingers, in memories warm.
Grandfather dear, as we bid you adieu,
We’ll hold you close, in our hearts so true.
Your essence remains, forever alive,
In the love we share, as long as we strive.
So, rest now, in eternal slumber’s embrace,
As we celebrate your life, with tears on our face.
Though our sorrow weighs heavy, our spirits shall rise,
For your legacy lives on, through the starlit skies.
In this elegy, dear grandfather, we impart,
A testament to the love that fills our heart.
Though we grieve your loss, we find solace in this,
That your spirit lives on, in eternal bliss.
Farewell, dear grandfather, may you find peace,
In the realm of eternity, where sorrows cease.
Thank you for the love, the lessons, the light,
Your memory shall guide us, day, and night.
The Story of Black Wall Street
On a day for remembering
Those gone before us
The heat of Black Wall Street fanned
Events soon no one would discuss
Dick Rowland left his shoeshine stand
A young man full of promise
Headed to the Drexel Building
Dark changes soon are upon us
Arriving at the elevator
The doors began to close
Dick shouted out to hold the door
He stumbled as he caught his toes
A pale leg kicked out quick
stopping the steel door from closing
Sarah Page working the door
Dick’s hand touching leg exposing
Some say they were friends,
And still, others thought lovers
Was it a forbidden love that
That no one should discover?
The young girl shrieked out in vain
As his hand brushed slender leg
Though an accident of fate
For forgiveness, he must beg
Elevator doors slid open
as the girl’s scream splayed about
Startled, Dick ran from the building
Fear was running berserk, no doubt
A few hours later, Miss Page’s
harrowing story recanted
The day broke with word of rape
White men, racial slurs chanted
An attempted rape black on white
The police retrieved Dick
He was captured and hidden
As the mob outside grew thick
In the armory, young Dick would
await unjustified charges
As the gathering mob’s surge
The throngs persist and enlarge
Intent to lynch young Dick Rowland
demanding justice without
a fair trial or due process.
The white men began to shout
Seventy-five-armed men
then surrounded the murky jail
With hopes to stop the lynching
Mob’s ability to prevail
Hundreds of armed white men
answered KKK lead Brady’s bray
And soon, all hell broke loose
on that fateful summer day
The whites feared an uprising,
Blacks an execution approached
Shots were fired, riots ensued.
Borders of Greenwood encroached
Colors blurring Black and White
Airplanes dropped firebombs,
striking shops, homes, and families
Soon a community gone
Mt. Zion Baptist Church lurched and
the building fell to the flames
As armed multitudes held back
firefighters from the remains
By sundown came on June first
the worst seemed to be over
Greenwood sank in utter violence
With doubts, she would ever recover
The toll was heavy thirty-nine dead
twenty-six black and thirteen white
More than eight hundred hospitalized
and six thousand detained that night
Shame of Tulsa secreted
Families and lives broken
All of seventy-five years
hardly a word was spoken
Overlooked by historians,
teachers and government leaders
Whispers heard in hushed parlors
and at family gatherings
Police and militia records
Quickly disappeared from sight
Newspapers headlines were
removed almost overnight.
Bodies uncovered, the truth
Of the horror must now be told
The lives that were lost
here and now be consoled
Unburied in the light of day
injustice now revealed.
For only out of the shadows
can the old wounds be healed?
Ugliness of racial violence,
segregation, and power
Still leave Americans feeling
The need to quietly cower.
Elon’s Folly
You are a rare, wondrous beauty that so few understand.
Tall and stately, gleaming, posing so proudly in the hot sand.
Shimmering waves surround your heart so bright for all to see.
Ice slowly forms around your waist, waving slightly in the breeze
Your tall, straight sides and pointy nose may look like a grain silo.
However, to Elon Musk, you are his battleground Shiloh.
High into the sky to fight a battle, not on foreign ground
You, dear Serial Number Ten was never meant to be earthbound
Crowds gather impatiently waiting to see you what you fly
Ten kilometers or thirty thousand feet into the sky
Where you will hover in splendid glory only a moment
Shimmering brightly and displaying your metallic raiment
Before plunging back earthward and laying over on your side
Having reached new heights soared now rushing back to ground like the tide
At the last minute, you will shift vertical to upright
One, Two, Three Rockets light to bring an end to your historic flight
Your landing delicate to crowds roaring but on fins trembly
Where you experience Rapid Unscheduled Disassembly
Kaleidoscope
That warm summer eve, we came together,
a blinding wild hot explosion of heat.
Shifting ground – boiling, toiling, melting sand
becoming red hot glass beneath our feet.
Once rough grains of sand, now a perfect sheet
smooth, hard surface of multi-colored glass.
shattering, shifting, turning, floating, fleet
shards of brilliant colors gather en masse.
I know it is not my story to tell.
reflecting broken, shattered pieces float.
Yet, in ignorance, I prefer to dwell.
A sugar-coated promissory note.
The constant tolling of the bells, tell, tell
The heartbreaking parting Heaven from Hell.
The Wanderer
There is a city
on the banks of northern sea
where lights dance in the
winter sky and romance lives
among both the old and young.
Rough cobblestone streets
Lead this weary wanderer
Along a river
Where many come to linger
to become lost in new love.
A sun ray bounces
lighting the face of the lock
hanging on a bridge
across the inlet river
the promise of undying love.
Many years have passed
changing the face of the lock
hanging on a bridge
across the inlet river
and the lock still does not move.
Familiar cobblestone
Lead this weary wanderer
Once again along
an old river so many
lost in the midst of new love.
Once new shiny locks
Now lost to years of sea salt
hang on an old bridge
across the inlet river
soothe a weary wanderer.
There is a city
on the banks of northern sea
where lights dance in the
winter sky and romance lives
among both the old and young.
The Days GO On
The sun has set, and now the moon is gone.
Time marches forward as a new dawn drape.
The still night air fills with the cricket’s song.
And yet another day’s dreams too far gone.
Slow light fades orange to black escape.
The sun has set, and now the moon is gone.
The night birds invite all to sing along.
A buzzing whirl of sound surrounds agape.
The still night air fills with the cricket’s song.
Silence from ebony night’s darkness drawn.
A whispering noise my ears do reshape.
The sun has set, and now the moon is gone.
Dawn revealed and met with morning birdsong.
The earth turns to a bright new dawn landscape.
The still night air fills with the cricket’s song.
I whispered I loved you to night now gone.
As the earth continues its endless spin.
The sun has set, and now the moon is gone.
The still night air fills with the cricket’s song.
Anxious Waters
Sun dances across water
Gentle breeze whispering quietly still.
Grey fin breaks the surface, a slight ripple,
The sight making beach goers tremble and shake,
Anxiety pushes closer to shore
Further away from the tiny sailboat.
Scrambling around the small boat,
Struggling to bail incoming water,
Waves pushing the vessel farther from shore,
Sunlit colors swirl where the air stands still.
Sails dance, causing the boat to creak and shake,
Racing tides towards shore, a ripple.
Grains of sand feel that ripple
ov’r the surface, to gently rock the boat,
Swimmers rise from cold water with a shake
Droplets fall quickly to the still water.
How long have we been here, and yet we still
Do not notice the fin moving to shore.
A struggle to row to shore,
Rotting bits of seaweed, on a ripple.
Pushing every stroke, deep into the still
Waters that surround the tiny sailboat.
Tis not an easy path thru this water.
We struggle and push, as our muscles shake.
Rise from frigid waters to shake
Our muscles quiver as we step ashore
As we were submerged in freezing water.
trembling bodies create a small ripple
Even as we pull the tiny sailboat.
From the swirling waters that never still.
Imagine the fin grows still
Making us quickly forget why we shake
Beyond the rocking of our lil’ sailboat
Water and waves race to the sandy shore,
Wherever we are there is a ripple
Moving like a breeze across the water.
The tiny sailboat floats safely to shore.
As we try to still, our trembling limbs shake
A ripple slicing the icy water.
Who Will Hold My Hand?
Who will be there to hold my hand?
As my aging sight fades and
I struggle to simply stand.
Will you be there to hold my hand?
As my aging sight fades and
Age steals the edges of my mind.
Will you be there to hold my hand?
Even as your name I struggle to find.
As age steals the edges of my mind.
And my life begins to fade.
Will I search your face to find,
That faint image of a former shade.
And my life begins to fade.
My life and my choice, no child to bare.
That faint image of a former shade.
I must wonder who will be there.
My life, and choice, no child to bare.
Who will be there to hold my hand?
Still, I must wonder who will be there?
Who will be there to hold my hand?
If Only I could Have Found YOu THen
What if we could do it all over again?
In days as sweet, when love was new.
If only I could have found you then.
We’d create a tale that time can’t comprehend.
In the maze of life, where paths were new.
What if we could do it all over again?
Our hearts entwined, lives intricate blend.
With every touch, our souls would pursue.
If only I could have found you then.
But memories fade, like whisper in the wind.
Lost moments, like stars that slowly withdraw.
What if we could do it all over again.
In dreams I search for what might have been.
The chance to re-write our story, us two.
If only I could have found you then.
Whispering echoes of love, we might have known
Yet hope remains like a steadfast friend.
What if we could do it all over again.
If only I could have found you then.
O Silver Wings
He approached with stealth, his desires unkind,
Intent on seizing her, body, and mind,
Yet she possessed a wisdom, a clever disguise,
A plan to outwit him, her spirit to rise.
She fluttered and fell, her body limp,
A lifeless form, as if the light had dimmed,
A ruse to deceive, to escape his grasp,
A fragile facade, her freedom’s clasp.
He hovered above, his gaze filled with greed,
Believing her gone, fulfilling his wicked need,
But she held her breath, her heart pumping strong,
Waiting for the moment to right the wrong.
As he swooped down to claim his cruel prize,
She unleashed her strength, her wings to rise,
With lightning speed, she darted away,
Leaving him bewildered, his dreams in disarray.
Her flight was swift, her spirit unbowed,
A survivor’s spirit, fierce and proud,
For she had played dead, a strategy wise,
To thwart his advances, to sever the ties.
In the realm of nature, where life can be frail,
Her tale echoes courage that shall never fail,
A dragonfly’s wings, a symbol they’ll be,
Of resilience and triumph, of the spirit set free.
Blades of Grass
In verdant fields where nature’s beauty thrives,
Green grass blades as sharp as knives doth arise,
They glisten ‘neath the sun, their sheen belies
A secret edge that cuts through tranquil lives.
Oh, how they sway with gentle summer breeze,
Inviting dreams of solace and repose,
Yet hidden dangers lurk when one draws close,
For innocence may yield to wounds unseen.
In innocence, we tread upon this earth,
Unmindful of the perils that await,
Blades, once benign, may turn to bitter fate,
Their edges keen, a testament of worth.
So let us walk with care upon this sod,
For green grass blades may hide a treacherous nod.
THe Beat of Delhi Heart
In Delhi’s heart, where colors clash and mingle,
A bustling tapestry of sights and sounds,
Lies a market, teeming with restless souls,
A carnival of life, where wonders abound.
Enter the gates, a realm of vibrant hues,
Where saris sway like rainbows in the breeze,
And turbaned men, with laughter in their eyes,
Weave tales of ancient wisdom and mystique.
The air is thick with fragrant spices’ dance,
As masalas mingle with the dusty air,
And the aroma of simmering curries
Whispers secrets of recipes passed down with care.
Here, myriad treasures await the curious,
In narrow lanes that wind and twist like dreams,
Bedecked with shops that spill their wares,
An Aladdin’s cave, where treasures gleam.
Silken scarves, embroidered with golden thread,
Caress the fingertips of eager hands,
While silver trinkets, gleaming in the sun,
Tell tales of craftsmanship from distant lands.
Jeweled bangles, tinkling with every move,
Adorn the wrists of women with grace untold,
And intricate henna patterns, delicate and fine,
Trace stories of love and destiny yet unfold.
Amidst the chaos, a symphony of voices rise,
A chorus of negotiation and barter,
As hawkers and buyers engage in a dance,
Each seeking their own version of the perfect charter.
But beyond the commerce, the spirit thrives,
In the smiles that bridge the language divide,
For here, in this melting pot of humanity,
The world converges, side by side.
So let us wander through this vibrant maze,
Where history and modernity intertwine,
And lose ourselves in the Delhi Hart Market’s embrace,
Where the thrill of discovery is truly divine.
Rainbows, Dragonflies and Unicorns
In hues of magic, where dreams intertwine,
A sonnet we shall weave, a tale divine,
Rainbows, dragonflies, and unicorns fair,
Together in verse, our voices declare.
First, the rainbow, artistry untold,
A bridge of colors, a spectacle bold,
From crimson red to violet’s gentle hue,
It paints the sky with wonder, through and through.
Next, the dragonfly, with wings so grand,
A creature of grace, in flight it withstands,
With shimmering wings, it dances in flight,
A jewel in the air, a marvel of light.
And now, the unicorn, majestic and rare,
With mane of silk and horn beyond compare,
A symbol of purity, strength, and grace,
It roams enchanted realms, a mythical embrace.
Oh, rainbows, dragonflies, and unicorns fair,
Together, we unveil a world so rare,
In this sonnet, our spirits intertwine,
A tribute to magic, forever to shine.
Lizard On A Hot Rock
In summer’s blaze, a day as hot as fire,
The lizard rests upon a scorching stone,
Time crawls, while waves of heat do not expire.
Shimmering air, the sun’s relentless pyre,
The world ablaze, a furnace all alone,
In summer’s blaze, a day as hot as fire.
With skin of scales, a creature does aspire,
To seek a respite from the burning zone,
Time crawls, while waves of heat do not expire.
Nature’s furnace burns, with no desire
To grant a moment’s coolness to atone,
In summer’s blaze, a day as hot as fire.
Yet still, the lizard clings, a brave attire,
Enduring trials, a kingdom of its own,
Time crawls, while waves of heat do not expire.
Through sweltering hours, hope does not retire,
Though sweat may trickle, strength is finely honed,
In summer’s blaze, a day as hot as fire,
Time crawls, while waves of heat do not expire.
My Murano Perfume Bottle
In the realm of glass and delicate grace,
A masterpiece of art finds its place.
Behold the Murano perfume bottle, sublime,
A vessel that transcends the bounds of time.
Crafted on the island of Venetian fame,
Where artisans’ hands ignite a vibrant flame.
A symphony of colors in swirling dance,
Forming a vessel, a captivating chance.
The glass, a canvas, for dreams to unfurl,
Imbued with secrets, a mystical whirl.
Translucent tendrils, like ethereal mist,
Embrace the bottle, a heavenly tryst.
Emerald hues mingle with sapphire blue,
Like ocean depths, where mysteries accrue.
Each shade a brushstroke, meticulously applied,
Creating a mosaic, where dreams reside.
Golden filigree, an intricate design,
Cascading tendrils, a vision so fine.
They coil and twist with elegant grace,
Embracing the bottle, a timeless embrace.
Adorned with delicate blossoms in bloom,
Their petals whisper of enchantment and perfume.
The fragrant essence, concealed within,
An elixir of allure, a fragrant sin.
And as the sunlight bathes this objet d’art,
It casts a prism, a kaleidoscope of heart.
Reflections dance, like stars in the night,
Illuminating the beauty, an exquisite sight.
Oh, Murano perfume bottle, a treasure untold,
A testament to craftsmanship, a story to behold.
In your presence, an artist’s vision takes flight,
Eternal and mesmerizing, a beacon of light.
Bacon and Eggs for Dinner
In the realm of culinary delight,
Where flavors dance on tongues so bright,
A sizzling tale of evening’s grace,
Unfolds upon the dinner space.
With bacon’s sizzle, eggs so fair,
A timeless duo fills the air.
Bacon, crisp and full of zest,
Its aroma tempts, it must confess,
A symphony of savory bliss,
As it dances ‘twixt each tender kiss.
Golden yolks with whites so pure,
Eggs, nature’s gift, forever endure.
In the kitchen’s warm embrace,
Ingredients prepare to interlace,
The stage is set for this affair,
Where bacon and eggs meet with care.
Pan’s hiss, as bacon greets the heat,
Melting fat and sizzling treat.
First, the bacon takes its stance,
Seared to perfection, in its advance,
Its smoky scent begins to rise,
Awakening taste buds, no disguise.
Then the eggs, cracked with care,
Whisked gently, love’s own prayer.
Bacon’s journey, crispy and divine,
In the pan it dances, intertwine.
Its salty symphony takes the lead,
While eggs follow, they succeed.
Sizzling rhythms fill the air,
A harmonious duo, beyond compare.
Bacon and eggs, a culinary waltz,
In flavors’ embrace, time exalts,
As the dinner hour draws near,
Their union brings joy, no fear.
With each bite, a chorus swells,
Satiating hunger’s urgent yells.
And as the evening sun descends,
The dinner table warmly tends,
To this masterpiece of flavors rare,
Where bacon and eggs together share,
A final act, a symphony complete,
In nourishing souls, their love replete.
So raise your forks, in joyful cheer,
To bacon and eggs, held dear.
For in this writer’s humble grace,
Their tale unfolds, a savory chase.
May the kitchen’s love forever be,
A testament to culinary glee.
Red Apples in a Green Fiesta Bowl
Amidst the orchard’s boughs, ripe red apples gleam,
Their luscious hue, a testament to time,
In a green fiesta bowl, a vibrant dream.
Each apple’s skin, a sunset’s fiery beam,
Juices sweet and tangy, a taste sublime,
Amidst the orchard’s boughs, ripe red apples gleam.
Their fragrance fills the air, a tempting scheme,
A symphony of flavors, so divine,
In a green fiesta bowl, a vibrant dream.
With every bite, a burst of nature’s theme,
A crisp delight, a harvest’s joyful chime,
Amidst the orchard’s boughs, ripe red apples gleam.
Their presence evokes memories that teem,
Of autumn days and warmth that intertwine,
In a green fiesta bowl, a vibrant dream.
As seasons change, they bring this cherished meme,
The simple pleasure of fruits so prime,
Amidst the orchard’s boughs, ripe red apples gleam,
In a green fiesta bowl, a vibrant dream.
Fight to Live
In the wild symphony of nature’s stage,
A tale unfolds, written on a poetic page.
Where sunlight weaves its golden strands,
A metaphorical dance, where courage stands.
A Blue Jay, a warrior of the azure sky,
A feathered arrow, swift and high.
Its wings, like blades of sapphire steel,
With piercing eyes, a relentless zeal.
And there, a Rat Snake, sinuous and sleek,
A slithering shadow, a venomous mystique.
Coiled like a sentence, waiting to strike,
In the language of survival, a duel they hike.
The Blue Jay, a tempest, a bolt of lightning,
A metaphorical storm, unyielding and striking.
It swoops down, a poem of fierce descent,
A warrior’s verse, with every movement.
With beak like a quill, sharp and precise,
It etches a tale of valor, of daring and vice.
In this poetic battle, where worlds collide,
Metaphors intertwine, their destinies tied.
The Rat Snake, a sentence, writhing in the verse,
Its coils a metaphor, dark and terse.
But the Blue Jay’s wings, like stanzas, unfurled,
As it weaves a sonnet, challenging the world.
Their dance, a metaphorical ballet,
Of predator and prey, engaged in a play.
The Blue Jay, a symbol of audacity and might,
And the Rat Snake, a symbol of stealth in the night.
Each metaphor, a brushstroke on a canvas wide,
Painting a picture of nature’s poetic pride.
The Blue Jay, a valiant poet of the air,
And the Rat Snake, a slithering metaphor, aware.
In this poetic tapestry, their duel unfolds,
As metaphors clash, stories to be told.
The Blue Jay’s wings, a symphony of flight,
The Rat Snake’s coils, a metaphorical plight.
In the realm where metaphors intertwine,
The Blue Jay attacks, a story divine.
Metaphorical swords clash in the wild,
As nature’s verses unfold, fierce and wild.
Drunk on my Warrior’s Love
** This is an attempt at prose poetry **
Drunk on my warrior’s love, I stumble through the battlefield of passion. His words, like arrows, pierce my soul, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. The clash of our hearts echoes in the chambers of my being, a symphony of desire and longing.
In his arms, I find solace, a respite from the chaos of the world. His touch, gentle yet commanding, ignites a fire within me, consuming my inhibitions and fears. We dance amidst the ruins of our past, forging a new path with every step.
With each kiss, he breathes life into my weary spirit, infusing me with a courage I never knew existed. Together, we transcend the boundaries of time and space, creating a sanctuary where only our love exists. In this sacred realm, we are warriors of devotion, fighting for the survival of our connection.
But love, like war, is not without its battles. Doubts and uncertainties rise like a tempest, threatening to tear us apart. Yet, we stand strong, wielding our love as a shield against the storms that assail us. Our bond, forged in the fires of adversity, grows unyielding and steadfast.
Amid this intoxicating love, I lose myself willingly. Surrendering to his embrace, I find liberation in vulnerability. The armor of pretense falls away, revealing the rawness of my heart. I am no longer a spectator of life; I am an active participant, entwined with the rhythm of his existence.
Drunk on my warrior’s love, I embrace the ecstasy and the agony it brings. It is a bittersweet elixir, intoxicating my senses and awakening dormant desires. In this divine intoxication, I discover the depths of my own strength and vulnerability. And together, we conquer the world, our love a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.
Journey to Yellowstone
In the heart of the wild, where nature’s wonders reside,
Lies a land of grandeur, where adventure will collide.
Yellowstone, the realm of untamed wilderness,
Beckons brave souls seeking true greatness.
A fellowship of explorers, their spirits aflame,
Embarked on a quest to unveil Yellowstone’s name.
From distant lands, they gathered with hearts alight,
To chart a path that transcends both day and night.
The journey commenced as dawn kissed the sky,
Assembling their gear, beneath the sun’s watchful eye.
Their footsteps echoed through valleys deep,
While mountains stood guard, their secrets to keep.
Through towering forests, they ventured on,
Treading paths unknown, where courage was drawn.
The earth’s heartbeat throbbed beneath their feet,
As they pursued a tale, yet to be complete.
The rivers danced and sang, a melodic strain,
Guiding the intrepid travelers, free from restrain.
Their crystal waters carved through ancient stone,
Whispering legends of lands yet to be known.
Majestic beasts roamed with regal grace,
Bison, wolves, and bears, an untamed race.
They were the guardians of this sacred domain,
Their wild spirits echoing an untold refrain.
Mighty geysers, like cosmic fountains, erupted high,
Painting the sky with kaleidoscopic sighs.
Steam danced and mingled with the azure air,
Enveloping the travelers in a misty affair.
The geothermal wonders beckoned them near,
With fumaroles hissing, as if whispering with cheer.
They descended into the bowels of the earth,
Venturing towards Yellowstone’s core, of infinite worth.
Deep within the labyrinth of molten heat,
They marveled at nature’s power, incredibly fleet.
Hot springs bubbled and boiled, colors aglow,
A mesmerizing spectacle that few would ever know.
The journey was treacherous, yet their spirit remained strong,
For they carried a torch of curiosity, burning bright and long.
Through canyons, meadows, and ancient forests dense,
They pressed on, driven by a relentless sense.
As they reached the heart of this sacred land,
An ethereal aura embraced them, hand in hand.
They discovered a truth, profound and grand,
That nature’s essence dwells in every grain of sand.
In Yellowstone’s core, they found a unity,
A connection with the world, in pristine serenity.
The journey had changed them, forevermore,
Leaving footprints of reverence, to the very core.
With souls ablaze, and hearts full of awe,
They emerged from Yellowstone, their spirits in awe.
For they had witnessed nature’s masterpiece,
And in their souls, its eternal peace.
So, let their story echo through the ages,
A testament to nature’s boundless stages.
The journey to the center of Yellowstone’s core,
An epic saga, forever etched, and explored.
The Light of Day
In the depths of night, a void so vast,
Where shadows dance and dreams are cast,
The world lies dormant, wrapped in sleep,
While darkness reigns, its vigil keep.
But hark! A glimmer on the horizon,
A gentle whisper, a subtle risin’,
The sun awakens, stretching its rays,
Igniting the sky in golden blaze.
With fingers of light, it paints the scene,
Unveiling a world once unseen,
Colors explode, a vibrant display,
As night succumbs to the dawn’s bright sway.
The stars retreat, their twinkle fades,
As morning’s embrace the darkness raids,
A chorus of birds greets the newborn day,
Their melody heralding light’s sweet play.
The world awakens, bathed in grace,
As the sun ascends, the darkness erase,
From mountaintops to the meadows green,
Its radiant touch, a sight serene.
The shadows wane, their strength withdrawn,
As daylight triumphs, a new day is born,
The sky adorned in a tapestry of hues,
A masterpiece painted, divine and true.
And as the sun, in glory, reigns supreme,
Banishing darkness with each sunbeam,
We too shall rise, with hearts alight,
Embracing the dawn, and its sacred flight.
For in each sunrise, a promise is found,
That darkness fades when light is crowned,
So let us bask in the morning’s glow,
And watch the brilliance of the sunrise grow.
My Secret Garden
In a hidden corner, where whispers lie,
There lies a garden beneath the cerulean sky.
A haven of solace, away from prying eyes,
My secret sanctuary, where dreams arise.
Bathed in hues of emerald, enchantment unfurls,
Where time stands still and the outside world swirls.
A tapestry of blossoms, a symphony of scents,
Nature’s sweet poetry, a melodious cadence.
As I step through the gate, a gentle zephyr’s touch,
Softly caressing, revealing secrets hushed.
Amidst dainty petals and leaves of jade,
I wander, embraced by a verdant cascade.
Beneath the shade of a majestic oak,
I find respite from life’s ceaseless stroke.
Whispers of wisdom carried by ancient trees,
I listen intently, beguiled by nature’s decree.
The sunbeams dance upon the vibrant ground,
Weaving a tapestry of light, profound.
Butterflies waltz, painted wings in flight,
As if enchantment itself has taken its height.
A murmuring brook meanders nearby,
Its soothing melody singing lullabies.
I dip my weary hands in its crystal clear stream,
As worries dissolve, lost in a watery dream.
Delicate creatures, shy and unseen,
The garden’s dwellers, where magic convenes.
Robins serenade with their melodious tunes,
While rabbits and squirrels dance beneath the moon.
In this haven of tranquility, I find solace,
A place where my spirit finds grace.
Away from the world’s clamor and strife,
My secret garden breathes new life.
As seasons come and seasons go,
The garden remains my sacred tableau.
A sanctuary of love, peace, and delight,
A treasure hidden, nestled out of sight.
So, let this secret garden forever bloom,
An oasis of serenity, untouched by gloom.
Where dreams take flight and sorrows mend,
My hidden refuge, until the very end.
Creamy Taste of Summer
I savored the first taste, so sweet and rare,
Creamy, rich homemade ice cream divine,
A culinary creation beyond compare,
A treat that made my taste buds intertwine.
Each spoonful danced upon my tongue, so fine,
Velvet texture, flavors burst like a dream,
A symphony of sweetness, pure and prime,
In that moment, I felt true bliss extreme.
Oh, homemade ice cream, you reign supreme,
A labor of love, a frozen delight,
With every scoop, my senses did redeem,
A frozen paradise, a sheer delight.
No store-bought cone can ever quite compare,
To that first taste of creamy, homemade fare.
Smoke on Lake Ann
(Verse 1)
In the heart of the wilderness, where nature thrives,
Lies a hidden gem, where my soul revived,
To Lake Ann on Rainy Pass, a hiker’s delight,
But little did I know, it would be quite a fight.
(Chorus)
Oh, the first time I hiked to Lake Ann,
Amidst a wildfire outbreak, my journey began,
Through smoke-filled valleys and charred trees so grand,
I braved the flames, with determination in hand.
(Verse 2)
The sun hung low, obscured by a hazy veil,
As I set forth on the trail, a courageous tale,
The air was heavy, with a scent of burning pine,
But my spirit soared, for Lake Ann would soon be mine.
(Chorus)
Oh, the first time I hiked to Lake Ann,
Amidst a wildfire outbreak, my journey began,
Through smoke-filled valleys and charred trees so grand,
I braved the flames, with determination in hand.
(Verse 3)
The path was treacherous, as embers danced around,
Crackling flames devoured the once sacred ground,
But I pressed on, driven by an inner fire,
To witness the beauty, amid nature’s dire.
(Chorus)
Oh, the first time I hiked to Lake Ann,
Amidst a wildfire outbreak, my journey began,
Through smoke-filled valleys and charred trees so grand,
I braved the flames, with determination in hand.
(Bridge)
As I ascended, the air grew thick and hot,
Yet, my resolve stood strong, despite the perilous plot,
The crackling flames whispered tales of their might,
But my love for adventure burned with a brighter light.
(Verse 4)
Finally, I arrived at the shores of Lake Ann,
A sanctuary untouched, by nature’s wrathful plan,
The water shimmered, reflecting the fiery sky,
A testament to resilience, as flames danced nearby.
(Chorus)
Oh, the first time I hiked to Lake Ann,
Amidst a wildfire outbreak, my journey began,
Through smoke-filled valleys and charred trees so grand,
I braved the flames, with determination in hand.
(Outro)
In that moment, I realized the strength we possess,
To conquer adversity and the challenges we face,
Lake Ann, a symbol of nature’s resilient grace,
A testament to the spirit that time cannot erase.
Wyoming Skies
In the vast wilds of Wyoming, where mountains kissed the sky,
Adventurers sought the remnants of an era gone by.
With hammers and chisels, they embarked on a quest,
To uncover ancient secrets hidden in the earth’s crest.
Fossil hunters they were, seekers of a vanished age,
Where prehistoric creatures roamed, turning every page.
Their eyes gleamed with curiosity, hearts filled with zeal,
As they journeyed to a land where the past was revealed.
Wyoming’s rugged terrain welcomed them with open arms,
A symphony of nature’s wonders, with its countless charms.
With tools in hand, they set forth with ardent might,
To unearth the mysteries hidden within the twilight.
With every crack and clink, their hammers struck the stone,
Hoping to uncover remnants of creatures long unknown.
Days turned into weeks, as they dug through time’s embrace,
Their spirits fueled by the thrill of each fossil they would trace.
But fate can be a trickster, with tricks up its sleeve,
For in Wyoming’s heart, there was more than they’d believe.
Beneath the rocks and layers of sediment so old,
Something stirred—a slithering tale yet untold.
As the sun painted the horizon in hues of amber and gold,
Their eyes met a creature, so ancient and bold.
A rattlesnake, coiled, with venomous eyes,
Its serpentine beauty catching them by surprise.
The hunters froze, stunned by nature’s unexpected twist,
Expecting bones of giants, but instead, a snake they’d missed.
Their hearts raced like stallions, adrenaline pumping through,
For they had stumbled upon a mystery they never knew.
With caution and reverence, they observed this living relic,
Its rattle buzzing, a sound both enchanting and angelic.
The epic tale of fossils now intertwined with fate,
The past and present colliding in Wyoming’s vibrant state.
They marveled at the serpent, its scales like shimmering jewels,
An unexpected encounter, awakening ancient tools.
For in this moment of convergence, they found a treasure rare,
A glimpse into a time when serpents roamed without a care.
The hunters chose to admire, not disturb, or provoke,
Respecting the serpent’s presence, they quietly spoke.
In whispers, they thanked the universe for this surprise,
The fossil hunt transformed, revealing new skies.
Wyoming’s landscape, a tapestry woven with delight,
From fossils to rattlesnakes, an enchanting sight.
For in this land of wonders, where ancient stories thrive,
The past and present entwined, keeping our spirits alive.
So let this epic be a reminder, a tale for all to hear,
That life’s grandest treasures may not be what they appear.
When seeking ancient fossils in Wyoming’s embrace,
Prepare for the unexpected, and the wonders you may face.
Cedar Haven
In the embrace of nature’s reach,
Beneath the red cedar’s boughs I’d breach,
A haven found where secrets speak,
Cloaked in resin’s embrace unique.
At the edge of the hay field wide,
A sanctuary where I could hide,
I sought solace, far from worldly stride,
Beneath the branches that gently sighed.
The red cedar stood, tall and proud,
Its fragrance perfumed the air, endowed,
With whispers of stories, untold and loud,
A refuge from life’s chaotic shroud.
But as the sun began its descent,
My garments clung, a sticky descent,
Resin’s touch, like honey-sweet lament,
Dressed me in nature’s scented intent.
With every movement, a gentle plea,
To untangle the resinous decree,
Yet, in its grasp, I found beauty’s key,
A reminder of moments wild and free.
For as I walked, a living art,
Cloaked in amber’s intricate part,
I carried memories within my heart,
From a day spent, never to depart.
The sticky resin, an emblem grand,
Of the red cedar’s enchanting land,
And though my clothes bore nature’s brand,
I wore it proudly, like a medal, unplanned.
So, let me revel in this golden attire,
A testament to moments I’ll never tire,
Of hiding under the cedar’s inspire,
In nature’s embrace, my soul’s entire.
Peace as My North Star
In the chaos of life, my north star shines,
Guiding me with its serene, gentle light.
Peace, my constant guide, forever entwined.
Through trials and storms, it never declines,
A steadfast beacon in the darkest night.
In the chaos of life, my north star shines.
When doubts and worries cloud my weary mind,
I seek solace in its comforting sight.
Peace, my constant guide, forever entwined.
With each step I take, its essence aligns,
Filling my being with tranquil respite.
In the chaos of life, my north star shines.
Through tempests and struggles, it defines
The path I follow, steadfast and right.
Peace, my constant guide, forever entwined.
Though the world may falter, I realign,
Drawing strength from the calmness in my sight.
In the chaos of life, my north star shines,
Peace, my constant guide, forever entwined.
Dancing under the Dancing Sky
Beneath the twilight sky, where dreams unfold,
Illuminated by the cosmic light,
We spin and twirl, our bodies unrestrained,
As Aurora Borealis paints the night.
A kaleidoscope of colors in the air,
We dance, enraptured by its mystic flair.
In emerald and amethyst, we sway,
To nature’s symphony, a silent song,
Our souls entwined, we move without delay,
With graceful steps, our spirits become strong.
The heavens dance with us, a celestial pair,
Under the ethereal glow, we share.
The auroras weave their patterns high above,
Like ribbons swirling, with each gentle breeze,
Their beauty fills our hearts with endless love,
As we surrender to their whims and tease.
In twilight’s embrace, we find our way,
To dance beneath this celestial display.
The rhythm of the night guides our embrace,
A waltz that’s choreographed by starry light,
We glide across the snow, leaving no trace,
Lost in the moment, under this grand sight.
The auroras shimmer, casting their spell,
Enchanting us with each magical swell.
As dawn approaches, the colors slowly fade,
Yet memories of this dance forever bloom,
For in that sacred moment, we are swayed,
By nature’s artistry, we find our room.
In whispers of the night, we say goodbye,
But the auroras’ dance will never die.
So let us dance beneath the Aurora Borealis,
In rhythm with the lights that fill the sky,
With every step, our spirits become weightless,
As we’re lifted by this spectacle up high.
For in this celestial ballet we find,
A beauty that forever stays entwined.
Inhale
In shadows deep, my heart begins to quiver,
For in my soul, a fear takes hold, unseen,
I am afraid to breathe, to fully deliver.
Within my chest, uncertainty’s river,
Waters that surge, a tempest unforeseen,
In shadows deep, my heart begins to quiver.
The air grows thin, a haunting, icy shiver,
Each breath I take, feels like a fragile dream,
I am afraid to breathe, to fully deliver.
In silence, doubts entangle and deliver,
A whispered doubt, a doubt that I can’t wean,
In shadows deep, my heart begins to quiver.
The weight of fear, a burden to consider,
Its grip relentless, clutching, ever keen,
I am afraid to breathe, to fully deliver.
Yet in this darkness, courage shall deliver,
To face the fear, embrace the in-between,
In shadows deep, my heart begins to quiver,
I am afraid to breathe, to fully deliver.
Fear
In shadows’ embrace, fear creeps on hushed tiptoes,
Whispering doubts that cling to weary hearts.
Its tendrils curl, entwined with weary souls,
Restraining dreams, the yearning for change.
Yet deep within, a flicker of hope,
Ignites a flame, a longing to break free.
With trembling steps, we strive to break free,
Defying shadows that clutch our very toes.
Boldly we face the unknown, fueled by hope,
Courageous hearts refusing to be torn apart.
For in the depths of longing, we find change,
A seed of strength, awakening dormant souls.
The world spins on, its secrets enthralling souls,
As we venture forth, determined to be free.
Embracing transformation, embracing change,
We shed our fears, cast off the weight on tiptoes.
With every step, we mend our broken parts,
Nurtured by dreams, bathed in the light of hope.
Through trials endured, we cling onto hope,
For in its embrace, we rediscover our souls.
Unfolding petals of resilience, mending parts
Once shattered, now mended, unbound and free.
Our footprints dance lightly on fragile tiptoes,
Creating a path, paved with the power of change.
Yet change can be cruel, disrupting our range,
Challenging faith, testing the core of our hope.
We stumble, we fall, rising on tiptoes,
As shadows lurk, threatening to steal our souls.
But fear, we shall conquer, as we break free,
With scars as reminders of healed, resilient parts.
So let us embrace the beauty of change,
Nurturing the flame of longing and hope,
For in our souls, we hold the power to be free,
Ascending on tiptoes, united and whole.
Snowy Delight
Snow on a sunny day, a rare delight,
White flakes dancing in the golden glow,
Nature’s whimsy, a contrasting sight,
Where winter and summer’s essence flow.
White flakes dancing in the golden glow,
A whimsical dance upon the earth’s stage,
Where winter and summer’s essence flow,
A paradoxical symphony, nature’s wage.
A whimsical dance upon the earth’s stage,
Sunbeams caress the icy crystal veil,
A paradoxical symphony, nature’s wage,
Transforming landscapes, a fairy tale.
Sunbeams caress the icy crystal veil,
Blanketing the world in a silent grace,
Transforming landscapes, a fairy tale,
Nature’s magic in a fleeting embrace.
Blanketing the world in a silent grace,
Snow on a sunny day, enchanting and rare,
Nature’s magic in a fleeting embrace,
A sight to behold, a moment to share.
Snow on a sunny day, enchanting and rare,
Nature’s whimsy, a contrasting sight,
A sight to behold, a moment to share,
Where winter and summer’s essence unite.
Ode to the Salt Miner
In the heartland of America, where the prairies lie,
There’s a tale of resilience, beneath the vast sky.
It’s the story of the salt mine workers, strong and true,
Whose toil and sweat built a legacy, through and through.
Beneath the Kansas soil, where riches are concealed,
Lies a treasure so precious, an ancient saltfield.
For generations, men, and women brave and bold,
Have ventured deep within, their stories left untold.
In the depths of darkness, their footsteps echo loud,
As they march through the tunnels, amidst the salty shroud.
With picks and shovels, they labor day and night,
To extract the salt, a source of purest light.
Through the cavernous chambers, they forge their way,
With faces lined by hardship, yet spirits never sway.
For they know the value of their labor underground,
Providing for their families, in each salt grain found.
Through blistering heat and bone-chilling cold,
They persevere, with hearts resilient and bold.
Their hands calloused, their bodies weary and sore,
But their spirits remain unbroken, forevermore.
Ode to the salt mine workers, guardians of the deep,
Your dedication and sacrifice, we forever keep.
For the salt you extract, a symbol of your might,
Brings flavor to our lives, and warmth in darkest night.
Oh, salt mine workers of Kansas, we sing your praise,
For you’ve shaped a legacy that time cannot erase.
Your strength and perseverance, a beacon of hope,
In the salt mines of Kansas, where dreams and hardships elope.
So, let us honor these heroes, steadfast and strong,
Whose labor fuels our lives, as we hum their song.
The salt of the earth, they’ve brought from below,
In the heartland of Kansas, where their stories will forever flow.
Humanity Loss
In shadows deep, a world once bright and free,
Humanity’s embrace, now distant and cold,
A silent foe emerged, with deadly decree,
Covid-19’s arrival, its story unfolds.
Humanity’s embrace, now distant and cold,
Families torn apart, by sorrow and pain,
Covid-19’s arrival, its story unfolds,
A haunting presence, a relentless bane.
Families torn apart, by sorrow and pain,
Aching hearts yearn for the touch of a hand,
A haunting presence, a relentless bane,
Lives disrupted; a fragile world unmanned.
Aching hearts yearn for the touch of a hand,
Lost connections, severed by the unseen,
Lives disrupted, a fragile world unmanned,
Hope flickers faintly, as despair convenes.
Lost connections, severed by the unseen,
A battle waged, against an invisible foe,
Hope flickers faintly, as despair convenes,
In darkness we dwell, seeking solace to know.
A battle waged, against an invisible foe,
Courageous souls strive, in the face of despair,
In darkness we dwell, seeking solace to know,
That someday, humanity will repair.
Courageous souls strive, in the face of despair,
United we stand, with resilience unyielding,
That someday, humanity will repair,
From this tragic loss, a new dawn revealing.
United we stand, with resilience unyielding,
In shadows deep, a world will rise anew,
From this tragic loss, a new dawn revealing,
With lessons learned, our compassion grew.
In shadows deep, a world will rise anew,
A silent foe defeated, but not forgotten,
With lessons learned, our compassion grew,
Humanity’s spirit reignited, unbegotten.
Right vs Left
In the land of stars and stripes, where freedom’s flame burns bright,
A battle brewed in the heart of the nation’s mighty fight.
Two factions stood divided, with opposing views they bore,
Conservatives and liberals, ready for an epic war.
The conservatives, staunch and firm, held dear their timeless ways,
They sought to safeguard values from the past’s glorious days.
Tradition and heritage, their guiding beacons true,
They stood for limited government and individual rights too.
The liberals, progressive souls, with hearts as wide as seas,
Yearned for change and justice, breaking through societal decrees.
Equality and compassion, their battle cries did soar,
As they fought for social reforms and freedoms to restore.
With banners raised and slogans praised, they marched upon the field,
In a clash of ideologies, no compromise revealed.
The air was thick with tension, emotions running high,
As conservatives and liberals locked gazes, prepared to defy.
The conservatives, clad in red, stood firm, unyielding, proud,
Champions of free markets, they vowed to stand their ground.
With free speech as their armor and fiscal prudence as their might,
They fought to preserve the principles that fueled their sacred fight.
The liberals, draped in blue, marched forward, undeterred,
Champions of inclusivity, for justice they concurred.
Armed with empathy and progress, they charged with hope ablaze,
Seeking to reshape the nation with their transformative ways.
The clash of ideas echoed, as words became fierce swords,
Both sides trading rhetoric, defending their sacred chords.
Debates raged like tempests, minds clashing in the fray,
Each seeking to triumph and shape the nation’s destiny that day.
Yet amid the chaos and the fervor of the fight,
A realization blossomed, cutting through the darkest night.
For though they stood divided, with visions miles apart,
A shared love for their country burned within each patriot’s heart.
And so, as the battle raged on, fatigue began to creep,
Egos set aside, and wounds run deep.
The conservatives and liberals, tired and weary souls,
Sought common ground and understanding, to heal their nation’s holes.
In the aftermath of the storm, as dust began to clear,
A newfound unity emerged, erasing doubt and fear.
For they discovered in their struggle, though different they may be,
The strength lies in their diversity, the tapestry of democracy.
And thus, the battle between conservatives and liberals ceased,
Replaced by dialogue and compromise, the warring hearts appeased.
America, the great, learned a lesson from that strife,
That progress is achieved when two sides seek a common life.
So let us remember the battle, the clash of fierce ideals,
And strive to find the middle ground where unity reveals.
For in the union of conservatives and liberals, hand in hand,
Lies the strength to forge a brighter future, for the great American land.
Soldier Lost
In Vietnam long ago, our soldiers fought,
Their courage and valor forever enshrined,
They faced the horrors that war had wrought,
In a distant land, their lives intertwined.
Their courage and valor forever enshrined,
They marched with purpose, in a foreign land,
In a distant land, their lives intertwined,
On hallowed ground, they made their stand.
They marched with purpose, in a foreign land,
Young men far from home, their spirits bold,
On hallowed ground, they made their stand,
Their stories of sacrifice, forever told.
Young men far from home, their spirits bold,
Bravely they faced the unknown’s cruel test,
Their stories of sacrifice, forever told,
In memory, they shall forever rest.
Bravely they faced the unknown’s cruel test,
Their strength unwavering, in the face of strife,
In memory, they shall forever rest,
Heroes who gave their all, for love of life.
Their strength unwavering, in the face of strife,
They faced the horrors that war had wrought,
Heroes who gave their all, for love of life,
In Vietnam long ago, our soldiers fought.
A Nutty Race
In a cozy woodland, amidst the trees so tall,
Lived a bunch of squirrels, having a ball.
With their fluffy tails and little paws,
They scurried around, breaking all the laws.
Their obsession, you see, was quite absurd,
A passion for nuts, they just couldn’t curb.
Acorns, walnuts, chestnuts, and more,
They hoarded them all, from ceiling to floor.
Their stash was impressive, a sight to behold,
Mountains of nuts, worth their weight in gold.
They’d dig and they’d burrow, with nimble grace,
Their cheeks puffed out, stuffing their face.
With stealthy maneuvers, they’d plot and they’d plan,
To steal each other’s nuts, a mischievous clan.
They’d hide and they’d spy, with eyes so keen,
Scheming and plotting, like a squirrelly scene.
But oh, the calamities that would ensue,
As they chased each other, nuts flying askew.
They’d tumble and stumble, in a chaotic chase,
Their tails in a tangle, a wild, nutty race.
One squirrel in particular, a bit of a goof,
Had a nut-shaped head and a knack for spoof.
He’d crack jokes and puns, making everyone laugh,
Even in the midst of a nutty aftermath.
With a twinkle in his eye and a witty retort,
He’d lighten the mood, a comedic sort.
He’d say, “Why did the squirrel bring a ladder?
To reach for the stars, nuts don’t matter!”
And so, in this forest, where laughter did dwell,
The squirrels found joy, their worries dispel.
For in the pursuit of nuts, they learned a truth,
That humor and friendship were the sweetest fruit.
So next time you spot a squirrel on the go,
Remember their antics and laughter they bestow.
For in this tale of squirrels and nuts galore,
We find that laughter is worth so much more.
All The Pronouns You Can Use
In the realm of gender, oh what a delight,
Confusion abounds, like a wild and chaotic flight.
Where once upon a time, there were only two,
Now there’s a spectrum, bewildering and true.
Gender fluidity, they proudly proclaim,
A myriad of options, with no one to blame.
You may wake up as a he, or perhaps a she,
Or a mystical creature, like a gender unicorn, you see!
But beware, my friend, for it’s a treacherous road,
Navigating pronouns, a linguistic code.
The simple “he” and “she” are no longer in vogue,
Now we have “ze” and “they,” like a linguistic fog.
The world is your oyster, so they say,
Choose your gender identity, no matter the day.
But wait, is it a choice or something innate?
I’m just a confused poet, please elucidate.
You see, it’s a satire, a comical take,
On the ever-evolving gender debate.
With gender reveals and gender-neutral toys,
We’ve entered a realm of bewildering noise.
Now don’t get me wrong, self-expression is grand,
But sometimes it feels like shifting sand.
We’re treading on eggshells, afraid to offend,
Navigating this landscape, we must commend.
So let’s raise a toast to this gender confusion,
A kaleidoscope of self-defined inclusion.
But if I mix up pronouns, forgive my transgression,
In this ever-changing gender progression.
A Warm Embrace
Beneath the sun’s warm embrace, the beach unfolds,
A tapestry of wonders, where stories are told.
With every step, the sand, soft and pure,
Whispers secrets of the sea, gentle and sure.
A symphony of scents drifts through the air,
Salt and coconut, mingling with care.
The fragrance of sunscreen and ripe fruit’s delight,
Weaving memories of summers, joyful and bright.
Oh, the feeling of sand beneath my bare feet,
Grounding my soul, a connection complete.
The gentle caress of the ocean’s cool breeze,
Inviting me to surrender, to find inner peace.
On this sun-drenched shore, a tale does arise,
Of love’s tender meeting, a grandchild’s surprise.
Eyes locked in wonder, hearts intertwined,
Generations converging, destiny unconfined.
But woven amidst this tale, another thread weaves,
A poignant farewell, as life quietly grieves.
In the face of departure, one last day to grasp,
Absorbing beauty’s essence, in every moment’s clasp.
The grandparent and grandchild, a meeting profound,
And yet, the farewell of a soul, unbound.
Both stories entwined, in this sunlit domain,
Love’s bittersweet dance, joy mingling with pain.
For the beach, a sanctuary of solace and light,
Ignites the embers of the soul, burning bright.
In its vast embrace, warmth forever found,
Amidst joy or sorrow, its essence resounds.
So, let the sun-drenched day on the beach unfold,
Revealing tales of love, and stories yet untold.
For in its radiant glory, it whispers, it sings, Of life’s poignant moments, where the heart takes wing.
Poetry, Short Stories, and Mad Ravings 