Light
bids me welcome
darkness retreats
Alas
poor death
thou must be alone
His gate
reopens
before yours has locked
The harp
of an Angel
—calling me home
(The 1st Book Of Prayers: August, 2023)
In the stillness of the night,
In the ambience of blurred light,
I'm awakened,
My prowess is strengthened.
My muse comes to me,
Inspiration flows like the sea,
It’s an encompassing tide,
Nothing can hide.
A door opens,
I walk out of the woods,
I'm no more cloaked by gloomy moods,
The waning door reopens.
A tranquil moment,
I'm in an unperturbed element,
Bloom stays,
Gloom frays.
April 1, 2023.
Writing Challenge - 'Q'' Words - Poetry Contest,
Constance La France.
My heart smiles at your every word
With a love I feel which is unsurpassed
Love this game of writing down words
That reflect my innermost emotions
My wish from the start is to touch every heart
As each soul in heaven reopens
Well I'm just a simple poetry man
With rhymes about joys of the heart
Living in this fantasy kingdom of words
I turn on the switch and it starts
Words and phrases come cascading out
Of love and life's simple pleasures
I can't stop the flow I have no control
The joy that it brings is unmeasured
Love this game of writing down words
That reflect my innermost feelings
My wish from the start is to touch each heart
And to raise every soul to the ceiling
Well I'm just a simple poetry man
With rhymes about life and devotion
My wish from the start is to touch each heart
As each soul in the heavens reopens
Spring marches its way south, inundating
the winter steeled earth struggling to drink
the season’s flood. So I bide time, waiting
for thirsty trees to flourish red and pink.
Yet when the heavens seal their divine doors
and the portal outdoors reopens wide
the red-pink promises of spring are floors
of brownish, brackish sludge when rain subsides
The birds are singing, or are they crying?
The mud is clinging to every footfall
Grasping with desperation, decrying
walks in the woods, holding me in its thrall
So I yield to the season’s iron will
and listen to the songbird’s somber trill
From him you can snatch a fable:
Just place whisky on his table;
He could stories quicken their pace,
In the hearer’s hearts create space
Wherever he stops Audience wait,
As only he reopens Gate …
They say that it flows in the blood
His room story lovers would flood …
But I hold His Gift from whisky;
For some whisky, he went frisky.
Border reopens
After a long long time
A tremendous flow of cars and people
Crossing the border
As though limitless
No more barriers
No more restrictions
No more ban
That doesn't mean you're totally free
As an invisible barrier does exist
We refuse violation of SOP
We refuse violation of laws
We refuse wars and terrorists
We lift the ban only for the people
But never the virus
Or the crimes
Christ is the Messenger of peace,
He gladly looks upon us
and endures patience...
even when most of us
turn away and dare not
listen to His kind words!
Christ is the Messenger of peace
who waits for the seekers
that are constantly laughed at
by the large numbers of unwise...
who don't appreciate His self-sacrifice!
Christ is the Messenger of peace,
He reopens the gates of Heaven for us;
the speaker of brotherhood and mutual love
teaches us to forgive a thousand times
and live in peace with neighbors in all places.
Shouldn't we love and pray for our enemies
who himself didn't hate to show us
that we must be compassionate,
instead of returning evil for evil?
Flapping wings through the summer breeze stands a love angel. A hearted spirit made by God’s mighty hand comes to bring love to the saddest world. She is dashing through the skies appearing to a couple who screams and screams. The love angel blocks out the noise with a heart shape spirit cream. Hearts of love fills the scene. The screams turn into laughter and the couple looks at each other dazed. Soon after the love angel converts the couple into a love chapter; she fixes broken hearts like the plumber fixes the toilet. A special love fills these days when this love angel has a say. A divorceful couple forgets their vows, a clear over view of that angel is in the cloud. The love angel reopens their wedding vows and fills their spirit as they ask how? Shhh says the love angel just look above, your marriage is filled with rocking doves. This older man has not found his love yet. This special angel has a date set. Soulmates in the making completes this man’s broken heart, checking off his love list in his love chart.The moon appears in the night, the love angel stays in the light. So call and call your love is here, call on that love angel in the air.
The falling of a giant
Awakens another giant
The removal of a door
Reopens another door
Wiping these tears off my eyes
I am about to live my life
Roll out the carpet, the one that is meant to be rolled
There is no ifs nor buts, search the soul
Loyalty is imperative
I am coming
If you call out loudly,
the past will find you
The pain but a looking glass,
all time a shroud
As memory surrounds,
its prison reopens
Chaining the present
—locking the future down
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
To live within the moment,
and write as love does now befriend
“Light shining brightest as
hours grow short”
A beginning reunites with
the journey’s end
“Memory imploding
on fate's retort”
A window reopens,
my heart beats faster still
“Epiphany’s march
neither to nor from”
To be saved in a final breath,
one last line to say I will
“The past and future
left exposed—undone”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Broken feelings…
My chest of gold
A torments ransom
No trinkets sold
The treasure bounteous
Walls lined with blood
Its hurt and pain
I have withstood
The jewels lack sparkle
But shimmer deep
Their cut and clarity
My soul to keep
And words if cheapened
Must leave this throne
As the lid reopens
—on the pain I own
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2016)
Like wine in storage,
The cellar of my perception ages
Buried deep in its recesses
The past and future abandoned
—time no longer the vintner
Fermenting in the immediacy
Of the chosen instant
And distilling in the perfection
Of the perpetual present
—the moment reopens
Bringing with it everything
—and nothing at all
(Garrett Hill Pennsylvania: January, 2014)
So many doors open before me,
infinite options
~ tantalizing me with their
connections and concoctions
Pathways stretch before me,
all roads lead to gold--
Life's at my fingertips
~ I can dare to be bold
As selections I make,
closing doors once open--
My world tumbles downhill
~ No more wishing and hoping
Yet just as I reach the last door that's open,
a funny thing happens to keep me from moping--
Each entrance I closed, now like magic
~ reopens, granting new life to
my old wishing and hoping
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