A place for poems and pics
In the Beginning
Sounds had no order, no form
Each note played randomly,
like early morning birdsong
Chaos was the melody that filled the air
Harmony, just an illusion, a vanishing act
performed by strumming magicians
Instruments rang out in unrhythmic time
and there was no key to unlock the secret
Until someone began to bang the drum –
and music was born
–
Think No More of Me
Forgive me for seeming timid
Or shy, or quiet, or rude
Forgive me for appearing to be polite
Well mannered, courteous, but
I ask no forgiveness for my feelings
I hold them in my heart where
They are guarded from judgement
They are the music of my soul
They belong only to me
They’re the percussive blow of grief
The vibrato of pulsating joy
The solo of winter-like loneliness
The persistent tinkling of hope
And I share them only with you
Flies in Disguise
They dress up like a bee
hovering, zooming
around each tiny flower of
the Lamb’s Ear in my garden.
They seem fierce in their quest
to chase others away.
Some would back away, keep
their distance, but I know
they are just wee flies
—
Zoom on over to d’Verse Poets Pub for some quadrille poems, if you dare
Shifting Vision
When he retires
he’ll shed his button down shirt,
shrug off his buttoned up life.
Stop chasing goals and start
chasing dreams, shift his vision.
He’ll rock out to his own tunes,
write the future in a song,
hug the life he always imagined.
Mish has us shifting around in the Pub today.
Sunset
It will be dark soon. The winter Sun,
stretching its weaken rays toward Earth,
will fall once again into the sea.
She sits where the ocean meets the land,
her toes touching the wet sand,
silently waiting for the last gasp of the Sun.
Proud Secrets
The winter sun shines weakly through gray clouds
Black secrets hurried into my dream,
They only saw our souls so proud,
Twirled in the wave of an open hand.
Inspired by Emily Dickinson and Sara Teasdale
COMPOSED IN VERSE BY VERSE
I provided the first line, then chose from lines suggested by verse by verse. It was difficult to find lines that made some kind of sense when put together.
Soul Sounds
My soul thrilled to the music of birds
and buzzing bees that lived in the
backyard garden, but this landlocked
soul did not know true music until it
felt the rhythm of ocean moving in the
darkness and heard waves crashing on the beach
—
A Simple Gift
I looked for a love poem to
give to you, but none were
as tender as the gleam in your eyes
I listened for a love song to
give to you, but none were
as stirring as the sound of your voice
I searched for some bauble to
give to you, but none had magic
to touch your soul
So I stand here before you
and hold out my humble heart
—
It’s Valentine’s Day in the Pub
Groundhog Day in Pennsylvania
Crowds gathered, wearing puffy jackets,
wooly hats – braving snowfall to
await the great prediction
Silence fell as night waned
and light streaked the horizon
A collective prayer rose up for an end to winter’s icy grip –
a prayer there would be no shadow
Quadrille #168
Poor Little Poem
This poem’s not feeling very bold
In fact it feels a little cold
Its edges have begun to fold
Its ink is fading, truth be told
The muse has hassled and cajoled
But its ideas seem worn and old
Unrolled
Paroled
Retold
And unsold
–
rhymeswithbug 