by Phillip Garcia |
this tranquil cottage scene
April’s meadowlark sigh
sweetly symphonic slopes
green glistened gradient
hillside reeds rejoice flat
by philanthropic sun
showers ivory slates
of winter remembrance
villagers swim downstream
lips kiss glimmered ripples
madly in love with reflections
how quickly forgotten
all quickly forgiven
natural mortality rates
the river wisely runs
babbles off mortified
immortal tethers rein
by Stephen Parker |
On a truant stroll did embark
Amorous libertine on a lark
Half past eight, almost dark
Chance encounter in the park
Whimsical glance hit the mark
Scintilating essence; a meadowlark
Glowing eyes radiated a spark
Glimmering lips lust did earmark
Craven, black hair so sleek, so stark
Bleating bosom her beaconing bulwark
Cleavage mapped by tight, clinging sark
Hips slithering along like a careening shark
Silken nylons her sensuous trademark
Writhing, to her milky nectar I did hark
by Sheila Cooperman |
A poem by an 11 year old student under my name. I take no credit except for being the teacher.
Not as pure as the meadowlark
Is not something on which most would remark
Neither as pure as the meadowlark
Not as pure as the sky so blue
Not as common either, but both phrases are true
Neither as pure as the sky so blue
Not as pure as the grass so green
Yet more beautiful than anything you've seen
Neither as pure as the grass so green
Not as pure as the mountains so tall
A faint sound from the end of the hall
Neither as pure as the mountains so tall
Not as pure as a brittle winter frost
But they are love and life
And only one can be lost
by Tim Smith |
Blush cheeks capture a heated day
sun-soaked lemon chills melt fast
beating hearts drifting off into the bay
as the west winds caress sails of love
Slow waves tumble toward the shore
intertwined fingers grasp and hold tight
as fragile souls sing lullabies of peace
Ominous clouds threaten a golden sky
shading out a final setting orb of hope
thunder rolls and soothes the meadowlark
undercover I can still hear her sweet call
silent footfalls shift after a drenching rain
here I'm left standing all alone again
by Constance La France |
I can still recall her sweet laughter as we played,
with our dolls on the covered porch in the shade,
I keep it in my soul.
And how we walked with Dad holding hands to the park,
and sat and talked listening to a meadowlark,
our sister love death stole.
My small girl mind wept that God took you to heaven,
and I have for years, years- for you were just seven,
and I cannot be whole.
July 31, 2020
Poetry/Tail-Rhyme/Sister, Sister Love
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1272-752-0
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Tail Rhyme Stanza
sponsor, Emile Pinet
by ANDREW BENE' |
hope, inspirational, life, loss, lost love, love, heart, heart,
See her in the flowers,
that she walks by everyday,
listen to the meadowlark,
and what he has to say.
Feel the Earth that's turning,
so your heart can be set free,
see these words are burning,
written hastily by me.
Leave behind the hardship,
the bitter clouds of woe,
follow down your family,
where your seeds will surely grow.
Seek the book for guidance,
may the Lord now take your hand,
no need to strive for perfect,
for your heart he'll understand.
by Roof Missing |
Let no poem or rhyming escape a bard's share
Or a truth (that God dreams of) once born deen to dare
Feign eclipse by a moon! Both float up like a tune
That a meadowlark twitters, in Spring, or in June!
Can God's light be absorbed, not reborn, as His warmth,
Or rain fall on dry ground that won't germinate both
The sweet corn and the weed? Let the farmer concede,
If, in fact, he would prosper, that labor's in need!
Like Christ raised from the dead, may our Don please die first,
Before rising again to pretend he's not cursed
By all Angels above! Though he claims to be Love
Brags how he feels our pain, each hand sports blood-soaked glove!
April 16th in 2020
by Caren Krutsinger |
3rd grade, 4th grade, 5th grade, 6th grade, 7th grade, 8th grade, 9th grade,
Fantasia has fabulous songs
This movie is a novelty
Converts feelings in secrecy
My sad soul feels that she belongs
Sweet musical notes come to life
Fast images that come and go
Chamber of sweetness don’t you know
Eliminating so much strife
Fantasia allows souls to sing
Violins elevate me high
Joyful angels give happy sigh
Imagine on musical wing
A crashing cymbal; things get dark.
Mickey Mouse wizard is asleep.
Bucket sloshes water too deep.
Flute like sound of a meadowlark.
A flower’s whirling petticoat.
Lovely sweet notes given by harp.
Orchestra keeps this music sharp.
Disney’s film, my own antidote.