Before each sunrise,
One must live through a whole night;
Be brave in between.
Your love flew wingless with the summer wind,
And left me stranded, hopeless, in a pit.
Alone I became too much for my mind,
With my love jailed by your self-written writ.
I was consumed by the flame of your rage,
Yet from the ashes, I arose anew.
I found a heart whose kindness could assuage,
And clean even a faintest thought of you.
Your cruelty bent me but couldn't break me,
I rode the distance on your stormy wave,
Till real love brave the storm to free me,
And polished my heart, making me feel brave.
Each fibre of my heart now flows with love,
At last, your wickedness has fallen through.
Joy walks with me, hand in hand, hand in glove,
Made whole by love thats's steadfast, strong and true.
I love the home of the free
I love the home of the brave
I love my freedom of speech
United States of America
steampunk bee couple slipped out of the hive
Do you have the address? Three asked number five
If caught by the queen, neither would be alive
Drone soldiers came and they hid under a bus with one dive
Could they ever escape the queen’s querulous hive?
It was a conundrum that worried both three and five
They wondered if they would survive the hide and the dive.
So far, I am happy to say, they both remain alive
In a sea full of green, so wide and still,
Where every leaf leans to the wind’s will,
They whisper the rules in rustling tones,
“Grow alike, sway alike, don’t stand alone.”
But somewhere beneath that uniform sway,
A pulse beats red in a quiet display.
Not loud, not proud—just power contained,
A fire untouched, a soul unchained.
The green is safe, a shade of peace,
But peace that comes with a silent lease—
Where edges are softened, voices are tuned,
And difference is trimmed before it's bloomed.
Yet red does not ask for permission to flare,
It rises in contrast, alive and rare.
It doesn’t compete—it simply exists,
A bold contradiction the green resists.
So how does one find what breaks the mold?
Not by chasing, but by being bold.
Not by looking with everyone’s eyes,
But by daring to seek what the world denies.
You find the red by refusing to bend—
By being the color that didn’t blend.
The X in the formula no one could name,
The reason the pattern never stayed the same.
Duty calls from valleys deep and wide,
Wide like hearts where brave resolve does bide.
Bide the storms, through fire and endless rain,
Rain of trials met with a calm refrain.
Refrain from fear when darkness clouds the sky,
Sky holds hope where eagles dare to fly.
Fly with honor carved in steel and soul,
Soul forged firm in sacrifice and role.
Role of country’s shield in battle’s fire,
Fire of freedom fed by hearts’ desire.
Desire to serve with valor, strong and true,
True to flags in red and white and blue.
Blue, the banner waving high above,
Above all stands their country, duty, and love.
© Dr. Joseph S. Spence, Sr., USA (Epulaeryu Master). All Rights Reserved (May 25, 2025).
God can give you a brave and happy heart.
He has all creative power from the start.
Give Him all the pieces.
He will free you from the "leeches,"
Those things that leech-away your strength.
With sublime faith you can go the length
Of each day or night in peace and healing.
Like a child, fearless joy you will be feeling.
Trusting, laughing, appreciative and brave,
Give God all and you'll have what you crave:
That blessing only God gives to you,
The Love, Respect, and Communion true.
“A geek!” they cry,
But I’m not a trend to pass by.
The teacher glances
A frown, a silent glance.
Laughter scatters like falling rain,
But I remain firm, unshaken.
Eyes roll, fingers point,
But in my heart, I won’t disappoint.
What they miss,
Is the fire within.
Worlds I build, dreams I chase,
I move forward with steady grace.
Call me a geek,
But what you speak
Is a shield for fear,
For a mind that’s yet to appear.
The future’s mine,
With each step, each climb.
And when I rise,
You’ll see I’ve always been wise.
A winsome weave, simple and real,
Warp and weft; a tight twill,
A weaverbird’s nest, strong and snug,
With soft crossways and tumphy tug.
Subtle cozy patterns, seldom revealed,
Cynical twists like waves unsealed,
The mirror of peafowl’s courtship field.
Matchless display by the peacock,
Dance elevated by love, rattle of feathers in rhythmic clock,
Enticing and dazing the hens, with a silent poise,
All while rivals raise their voice.
Waking incredible train rattle, a sharper dance,
Initial plumage grandeur, a healthier glance,
Peahens’ basics caught in a stance.
Beautifully woven, a rhythmic tapestry,
Wales ranged in a rolling plain spree,
Richly captivating...lines of love,
Crowned with bliss by the brave thereof.
last night so cold breeze
weather like winter in spring
yet smooth and lovely
"I come from great people, so I must do great things."
Quote by _Constance
My ancestors drank from clean streams,
with hair blowing they danced;
with the eagles and wild horses across meadows.
I was taught the war dance,
told never dance backwards or in circles, confused;
but face forward ... strong and brave.
Believe in yourself
don’t dwell in the past
Until things become clear
Sail your ship
let the stars be your guide
Blue moon
Broken lantern
Bottle emptied
Black sea boots
Burn the bridges
Break the waves
- before they splash against the limestone
Behave yourself
Bubbly buddy
Be brave
Breathe
Blissful Billy
Blessing
A lighthouse’s light through the mist
the protector on the ocean,
wings and man
A fleeting remark ...
face the challenges as they come
- eclipse never comes alone
What you don't know about writing
is that it doesn't know you,
until the two of you are willing
to stew a mess of your own -
brewing your blood's greatest enigmas
right down to its own bone marrow -
why not say hello,
at least?
“Life is like a ship tossed on the wide sea
to journey amidst sunshine and wild waves”.- by author.
Braving the Wild Waves
When wild winter winds bend down mighty trees
And drive many souls to knell on their knees
When flash floods sweep away all on their way
And make many men their pitiless prey,
When stormy gales hurl one`s ship on the reefs
And the crew is immersed in seas of grief
When ahead lies the mouth of a steep cliff
That sounds like the resting place of a grave
Do we yield to scare or brave the wild waves?
For Constance Contest: Eight Beautiful Lines
03/27/25
Mei is a Japanese ornamental tree with fragrant white and pink blossoms and small yellow fruits.
She strolls the shore swept by a cordial light
Her soul full of awe of the stately sky
The dawn, blushed in pleasure, drones with delight,
Cheered by the colored blossoms of the Mei
Waves lap her feet in the sand of the bight
Her heart a blooming rose, set to defy
Searching on the edge for a perfect knight
Would it be a prince or a Samurai?
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