A supernatural piece.
Only read if you want more love and understanding in your life!
(A lone voice whispers after lighting a candle. The invocation ends with the blowing out of the candle, after the last line is recited)
The Prayer to The Elementals.
Candela Meditation.
(A lone voice whispers)
Power of Air
Power of Land
Hear my souls
Holy writs
I pray for love and understanding
So come my way
Power of Night
Power of Day
Hear what I say
I summon thee to protect me
So be it
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
P.S
You do realise by reading it silently, you've summoned more love and understanding into your life?
Energy goes where attention flows.
In kingdoms known by all the lands
in which the Royal court commands
The celebration must begin
with love found of the hearts within
December rules this favorite time
as hopes build in this winter clime
For as this day is drawing near
They all know Christmas time is here
And as this story’s book reveals
with Royal writs and Royal seals
This proclamation is at hand
for everything to be as planned
The bells have rung, the goose is cooked
the joy is found by all who’ve looked
The trees of light are on display
and now it’s time for Christmas day
And as for gifts to be on show
there is but one that they all know
For in these lands so far above
The only christmas gift is love
In a California suburb she sits,
Pondering to go on with her writs!
All seem pointless to her now.
Even though~to her family she
made a vow!
To leave them a heritage of her life.
The happiness, sorrow, pain and strife.
Perhaps major surgery in November,
Made this vow, to her poetry vow
not remember?
She sighs, softly in the Spring starlight.
Recalling her early days here, so bright!
When she penned with happiness!
Greeted by others, cheering her success.
The road to being a good poet seems so long.
And poetry seems life’s forever Spring song!
It is an adventure, like doing a figure-eight!
On this mellow, starlit night, it is her fate!
The clock moved the velvet of her heart.
Its hands opening her rainbowed,glowing parts!
4-12-2022
Marvel of fond Mother-Nature,
Carefully carved nomenclature!
Mountains fold hands toward blue skies,
Where stars flutter, like, butterflies!
Water-waves warmly wash the feet,
Fleets on sleets meet around and greet!
High, steep, sharply molded boulders,
Stand in accord holding shoulders...!
Solitary human standing,
On a broken cliff crash-landing!
A bird flying around its edge,
To build her nest, finding no hedge!
An owl dwelling in a small hole,
Lost as though with a restless soul!
Bats, waiting for the silent night,
Alike, are, bleak views of cliff- sight...!
Suffering writs of erosion,
Churned by chisels of corrosion!
Carved, compiled, combined, conditioned,
Into wild bird-beaks protruded!
Steeply, slippery, surfaces,
Sloppy, soapy, still, circuses!
Cliff has its captivating charm,
That until disturbed does no harm...!
11 January 2022
C Form - Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Tell me of things hidden under the dust of night.
Tell me of hidden things under the dusk of light.
Reveal tomorrow as a play acted upon today.
Tell of the future as if you have played there today.
Unveil the mysteries surrounding creation,
Unravel wonders beyond my intuition.
Lay bare Earth's oldest, darkest secrets,
Awed with knowledge above written writs.
The form of light, the language of brightness,
The sigh of night, the whisper of darkness.
Hoary whiteness that crowns the horizon,
Inky blackness that surrounds Orion.
Tell me of things unknown, not forgotten,
Awe me with knowledge not forbidden
Let me hear of deep speeches long awaited
History in advance, foretold unabated.
.....a miner's tale
Entré vous
Was the cry oft-heard
A smile, a nod a welcoming embrace
Now circling high above it's prey
Grand masters seek their earthly throne
From hence to issue writs of folly
Perhaps these humans can be trained
As caution, cast like dandelion fluff
Takes pyre in hearts were once born free
And nod a glance to friends again
Né offer ashes that rise no more
12/11/20
In lengthening slumberous reposes lies
Dickens' sterling pen under bluish skies;
And through them gloats deathless sun,
Taunting all that under his embers burn.
No more savoring of Oliver’s twisty trials
In doleful dints and extra-nuanced miles;
Nor shall of tested Nell all posterity hear,
Cooed in sweetly plaintive rhythms dear.
Nicholas Nickleby's adventures now
Must halt and take a somnolent bow,
And leave us at Muse’s orphan gate,
Slow to hug our stark bereaving fate.
Whence comes a defter pen to tell
Copperfield's youth and pupil spell,
By stingy virtue ridden through cry
And toil with dismal affection nigh?
Stung reader must content themselves
With ancient writs mute on dull shelves,
And with relish cherish and revive tales
Mid-voyage drowned by muffling gales.
wayward, wanting
winds
waiting without
weigh
weary woefull
wanderers
weaving weather
warfare
walking waters
wringing
whatever writing
with
whirlwind wonders
working
wrenching wrinkles
worthless
wrestling wrong
writes
well....for now
stan sand
writing...when
writs...wring
wrong
Why's your jaded tongue so slyly used
To words buttered with ensnaring tone;
Piping fibs empirical proofs poorly prop,
Waxing lies into truth's patented throne?
I with all joints and full sinews distrust
Grandiose jibes oiled by your tired lips;
And luckily mock all façades and crust
With which you gild your tempting trips.
No backing writs your warping crafts
Uphold with faintest discernible facts;
Nor do your self-blotting points agree
With any of the truth-tied deities three.
And not for tons of pleasure-lilied wiles
May I in dream your baiting tunes sing;
And neither for gain of full cosmic clout
Might my soul fall for your deking miles.
Man's indeed contented heart only craves
Pure verity as passed by its martyr slaves.
Though unlived ages defter poets shall bring,
And blur all rhymes woven in my barren span;
May young pupil-scribes with like relish savor
These yellowing tropes as sworn zealots can.
Despite the flurrying crop of many sharper wits,
Let new apprentices of fine art read these lines;
And gratefully gain inspiration from olden writs,
Fresh as dateless gems in death-hidden mines.
And should new vibes rather greatly outshine
This dusty craft and they still dissatisfied pine,
Abiding honor for founding feats will here keep
Future pliant eyes that for fallen warriors weep.
Not for incurable want of well-winding nuance
May youth disdain this tart ink ten eons hence.
Think of all gone generations' fluids of the vine:
Piling time betters stale rhyme like bottled wine!
Muse forbid that future versifiers should deem
These musings an exaggerated antique dream.
Beats, fleets and streets of wits won’t quit over indiscreet tweets
Posted and pasted in error as you withdrew your succulent sweets
To banish and punish my wish to fish from another dish
I chose and you froze to pause the rose that arose from my roving radish.
Beats, fleets and streets of wits won’t fit bits and pits of despair
Wrapped and swapped in error as you withdrew your wish to repair
Traps into which we’d fallen as short-termism and feminism took over
Our decision and vision to enable our love to discover its glow and recover.
Beats, fleets and streets of wits won’t meet writs and sleets of sin
Committed and condoned in error as you withdrew your wish to pin
Our hope on slopes of serenity and dignity of the love
We strove to grow in consonance with its plan announced from above.
Beats, fleets and streets of wits won’t tweet skits and slits of malice
Mounted and recounted in ounces and bounces on the chalice
Brandished and garnished to prove wrong the sage
Whose wisdom in our kingdom killed deals of rage.
Fields, shields and yields of love heal
Upheavals hearts harassed and heckled in circumstances
Maintained, retained and sustained on a hill
Disown and drown doubts in cocoons that ingratiate impertinence instances.
Fields, shields and yields of love lubricate
Gears and gaskets gleaned from garages of gregariousness
Feted and elevated to sainthood to subjugate
Spirits and writs to wean wads of wickedness.
Fields, shields and yields of love amplify
Overt and covert conduits carried over
From ashes and slashes of creativity to mollify
Hearts that vowed never again to dignify a patriarchal palaver.
Fields, shields and yields of love cure
Hearts on fire with ire to hire an empire
Driven and given to glorifying the lure
They claim names romance recidivists to fire, retire or inspire.
Whimsically
Whacky
Wonderful
W
Whether
We
Would
Willingly
Write
Wee
Wisps of
Wisdom
While
Wishful
Wanting
Wanders
Waywardly into our
Writs of
Writing.
Whimsically
Wonderfully
Whacky
W, you are so
Worrisome!
my number
lays
broken
what numer
that
letter
saved my life
...
what word
was common
to
watchmen
twisted writs
dine with sorry
boxes
pink
foxes
?
escape ing rabbit hat
magicians hands stole
ruins left
for
weeping children
?
odd weepings
of
art
words
?
take over form
from
?
what shell
shall be shed
by
light
?
answers
to
the
oddities
found breathing
galaxies beyond
branded stars
stone
glaciers
?
Submit
Begin
Start
0
Nothing
Zero
2nd Rule
360 Degrees
Full
Circle
Inertia
Entropy
Back
End
Zero
Nothing
0
Complete
Time is the clock of life
On Gods writs
Even
God himself can not Stop
For When the last Star Pops
Lucky for us living
We will not live to see it
Or even have to worry about it
We have our own Circles
To complete
Spinning our Wheels
Back to our Future
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