Posted in Poetry on August 31, 2007 | 7 Comments »
I have no set religion, I grace no pew
God knows what I’ve done and did not do
I feel no need to bow and pray
In the presence of those who spend one day
Scrubbing the guilt of six away.
Confessing; professing their terrible sorrow
Leaving the room planning sins of tomorrow
As they all stand in line, the result of [...]
Posted in Photography, Poetry on August 30, 2007 | 3 Comments »
It was a dark and stormy night, unplanned
The elm was creaking with the howling wind
Our hearts were keeping rhythm with the band
The moon escaped behind a cloud and grinned
What force could be so deviant, so strong
To blow the tiles atop the roof so far
Posted in Other on August 29, 2007 | 1 Comment »
And he didn’t think he could do it…check it out!
Set Right Skinny Post Zulu on Two
by Bob Church
brought to you by Nonets-R-Us!
(Your prize is in the mail!)
Posted in Poetry on August 29, 2007 | 6 Comments »
I struggle to keep the warmth inside
never to let it forsake me
trying my best to forget
the words that hide within
Yet hope still lingers
we’ll share the warmth
of the flame
we once
lit.
Posted in Poetry on August 28, 2007 | 6 Comments »
Like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn to you
In love with the very thought of you
When your warm and healing breeze I sense
I abandon all caution and common sense.
Whatever the coming seasons may bring
I will hold in my heart, the essence of spring.
Posted in Poetry on August 25, 2007 | 4 Comments »
I’ve often wondered why it is
I feel so at peace
in my garden…
Today, as I walked through the flowers
I realized that they hold more beauty
than the eye can see.
The wild rose doesn’t think
it’s special because it’s pink;
It doesn’t care that the
blooms next to it are
much more prominent
in their flashy flesh
of vibrant oranges and perky peaches.
They don’t [...]
Posted in Poetry on August 23, 2007 | 4 Comments »
These lines of wisdom round my eyes
I can’t disguise
Crow’s feet I fear
Been walking here
So far, I am lucky, I know
This dreaded crow
Is just maybe
Still a baby
A stoic face is not my style
And so I smile
And there they go
The crow’s feet grow.
© Shirley Allard 2007
Posted in Poetry on August 21, 2007 | 7 Comments »
There’s something in your morning smile
That gets me through each day
Something in your loving touch
That helps me find my way
There’s nothing in God’s universe
Of which I am so sure
Nothing else I know of
That I could treasure more
There’s everything we’ve hoped for
All that we believe
Everything we dream of
In this tapestry we weave
Posted in Poetry on August 18, 2007 | 10 Comments »
Today I wish that I was free
To travel as I wish
To places I have never been
But know they do exist.
I’d find the soft and gentle kiss
Of a salty ocean air
As gentle breezes slowly tease
Their fingers through my hair.
Searching out the warming sand
Each precious grain runs through my hands
Awaiting the moment; that rhythmic glide
Of waves that [...]
Posted in Poetry on August 16, 2007 | 5 Comments »
A leaf floats
through the autumn sky
with a grace
that survives
by knowing a wayward breeze
will drop it gently.
Posted in Poetry on August 16, 2007 | 1 Comment »
Trails stretch on before me
I wander through the silence
Sounds of leaves caressing trees
replacing those of violence.
Ground gives perfect camouflage
To hide a basking snake
I savor each last summer breeze
That autumn soon will take.
Summer sun and growing shade
Combine for day’s perfection
Crossing bridges crudely made
to capture its reflection.
Posted in Other on August 15, 2007 | 6 Comments »
The weather had never affected my plans this seriously before. I’ve always detested days that aren’t rainy or sunny…just gloomy. Today was one of those days and it was serving no other purpose than to enhance the feeling of regret and lonliness I was already experiencing.
The previous day I had made plans for all the [...]
Posted in Poetry on August 15, 2007 | 9 Comments »
Somewhere in reality
Existing in a dream
Facing the finality
The obvious extreme
Entertaining every notion
To erase the very thought
Of the ocean of emotion
That precipitates the plot.
Posted in Poetry on August 14, 2007 | 4 Comments »
This was written by Michael. I don’t even know his last name. For some reason he connected with my writing on another site. I left that site for a long time and happened to visit it one day to see what was happening and I found this poem.
Somewhere In New England
Somewhere in New England
I wait [...]
Posted in Other on August 14, 2007 | 6 Comments »
Why do we write? What is it that drives thousands of us to the keyboard each day to put down what we’re thinking or not thinking? Why do we feel the need to pour our hearts out to perfect strangers and tell them all our troubles? Do they even care? Are they so bored that [...]
Posted in Poetry on August 13, 2007 | 4 Comments »
a dusty, rusty, wilted rose
now dried, it’s blush long gone
the days of wine and roses
swept away
the rose becomes an ornament
its fragrance ever gone
the wine, an empty bottle –
in the way
both, a cruel reminder
of the youth that’s come and gone
just sitting there, to humble you
each day.
Posted in Poetry on August 12, 2007 | 4 Comments »
I walk through the mist, in a fog
unsure what my next step should be.
I trip on a dead, lifeless log
that once was a lush, thriving tree
I fight innate urges to flee
now lost, in a forest of doubt
I long for a leaf that touched me
a shade I must now do without.
Posted in Poetry on August 12, 2007 | 6 Comments »
Rainbows tease.
Luring us to chase
riches that consume our hearts
beyond the extent of our wisdom.
The wisest resist their charm
and only look at
the rainbows.
Posted in Poetry on August 9, 2007 | 20 Comments »
This town has been a home to me
For more than half a century
Roads and streets have little changed
Though trees and bridges, once arranged
Have vanished through necessity.
Progress fills the open space
Where once I romped with carefree pace
Once grassy fields are covered now
The lazy graze of the summer cow
Once commonplace, is now erased.
Childhood haunts with berries sweet
Now [...]
Posted in Poetry on August 8, 2007 | 2 Comments »
Tiny fingers, grasping air
Reached for help that wasn’t there
Much too young to realize
They searched for distant lullabies
in the huddled mass of unfamiliar eyes.
The buck is passed, the game of blame
is in full swing, there’s ample shame
Much too late, their lame reaction
They search for solace, satisfaction
in the huddled mass of politics in action.
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