Tag: Poetry
Groundhog Day
The rodent pops from the hole
not a weasel, not a mole
like a turtle from its shell,
we gather round waiting for a tell.
Winter, winter, go away…
Too bad, his shadow’s here to stay.
Somebody better get a gun–
that groundhog better run!
Yule (an Acrostic Poem)
You’re
Unforgettable.
Love,
Emmanuel
Emmanuel (an Acrostic Poem)
Every one in the world
May have a gift this Christmas
Most will doubt the validity
And offer up resistance, but
No one is excluded from
Unconditional acceptance
Even when they don’t accept themselves.
Love, hope, and peace in Jesus.
The Boy (a Petrarchan Sonnet)
***This is a sonnet in the form of ABBA ABBA CDECDE***
When King Herod called the money changer
To count all the people across the land
From Galilee Sea to Bethlehem sand
Baby boys were born in extreme danger.
Wisemen came from distant countries stranger
While sleeping lowly shepherds took a stand
When an angel came and held up his hand
To share the news of hope born in a manger.
Followed across the fields a glowing star
to a stable with animals so stark
the humble bundle lay awake that night
as shepherds and wisemen traveled so far.
To this world of despair and broken dark,
He’s brought peace, hope, and joy, ’cause He is light.
A Little One
The little one jumped on a chair,
and pulled his sister’s shining hair.
She screamed and hit him,
His fall broke a limb,
and now the pain’s more than he can bear.
A Misty Eve
The horse nickered.
The knight clutched the reins tighter as he waited.
She glanced down from the turret window and wondered, “will he come for me?”
Thunder clapped.
The horse jerked, fearful of the coming storm as he waited.
“Should I run to him? Shall I pack my bags and ride away with him?”
Mist rolled in.
The horse danced and nickered again as he waited.
“I had better decide what to do, before he disappears into the night.”
The horse neighed.
The sound of the horses hooves grew quieter in the mist as he waited.
She threw her belongings into a bag and ran down the steps out the front door.
Gravel crunched.
The horse calmed and sighed heavily as he waited.
“Where is he? Oh, where did he go?” She screamed at the mist, watching it clear.
Lightning flashed.
The horse vanished, though the knight held tight as he waited.
She cried out. The mist had stolen him away from her. Again.
Butterfly
How did the butterfly get its name?
Did it land on a stick of butter?
Or maybe on the butter churn?
Did the first one have wings of yellow?
Or did it slide down a window easily?
Did it flutter around with pollen on its feet?
How did the butterfly get its name?
Did it steal the milk and butter?
Photo cc0 from Pixabay.
Abyss
Most days I swim in the shallows of daily life,
“What’s for dinner;
Honey, help me please;
Oh, that looks good;
Where is this thing?”
Occasionally, Great White dives into the abyss
and pulls a glowing creature
from the depths of my darkness
that illuminates a way for others,
be it a story, a poem, or a painting.
A Lazy Day
And now as this northern wind blows cold
I desire to read poets and writers of old-
those scribes we can no longer blithely hire
as I sit sipping tea under a blanket by the fire.
Oh give me a pithy Shakespearean play
to digest as I dreamily drain the day away
or a hearty Dickens feast to eat
or an Austen romance, both naive and sweet…
for as the autumn and winter set in again
I feel the need to be with long buried friends.
