Lighthouse
On edge of cliff,
Stands serene and secure,
Consistently abating dark
With light.
Lighthouse Cinquain and Ink Sketch
Poetry
Drifting
Drifting:
My mind’s aloft,
Swept by the winds of doubt.
Could lose my way unless I face
The sun.
Could lose my way unless I face
The Son.
(I’ve taken a little liberty with the cinquain form in the poem above, but I think it does a perfect job for the purpose of the message.)
Love & Marriage
Today would be my mom and dad’s 75th wedding anniversary — if they were still on this earth. They were very much in love their whole lives, and my sister and I benefited from their love because it made them terrific parents. I’m dedicating this little cinquain to them.
Marriage:
It takes a lot
Of effort and good will,
And love that puts another first.
Quite rare.
But two
People I know
Invested selflessly
In two becoming one with great
Success.
Stripes — Tso’i Poetry
I like stripes.
Fundamental designs,
They give variety, but keep stability.
Combinations abound.
Dream decor.
Worry — cinquain
Worry
Is such a drag.
It’s weight upon my soul
Drags down my body and my mind;
Wastes time.
Jesus
Had much to say
‘Bout giving it no place:
“Do not let your heart be troubled;
Trust Me.”
His words
Are quite profound.
They mean I have a choice.
So I’m replacing worry with
His love.
Signs of the Times – Haiku
Empty lecture halls,
School online for near future:
Degrees in Covid.
What I’m Doing for NaPoWriMo
Just a little note to let my followers here know that for this year’s National Poetry Writing Month 30-day challenge, I’m writing and posting all my poems on my regular poetry site: AHYOKA. So if you’re interested in following the 30 days of new poems, just hop over there. In past years, I’ve posted the NaPoWriMo poems on this site, but I’m trying to get myself more organized, and I don’t always have time to post them here and on the poetry site both. So it’s only right to let the AHYOKA site do the job.
Hope to see all you poetry lovers over there. 🙂
Embattled Faith — Cinquain
Drowning:
Engulfed by loss.
Deluged and overwhelmed
In loss so deep I despair of
Rescue.
Crisis:
Where is my faith?
That beacon in the dark
That once did lead me straight to God
Grows faint.
His Word
Still beckons me
To listen and believe.
Oh, that my heart could answer, “Yes!”
Once more.
~~~~~~~~~
Sunlight Cinquain
Diamonds
Dancing on lake
Take my breath away.
Their beauty is a love gift from
Sunlight.
Come Spring
Come, Spring;
Come, gentle Spring,
And beckon us to life again.
We’ve wallowed long in dark and death,
Despairing of a better day.
But once again, with breath awash with sunlight,
You’ve pressed your gentle way into the cold and gloom
And bid us rise to meet you with a smile.
Wounded But Preparing for a Comeback
True freedom and morality have taken a hard hit in the U. S. since the last presidential election, but all is not lost. There is an amazing movement of citizens who have finally awakened to the need to be much more vigilant and proactive than ever before — and a whole new generation of conservatives who are not afraid to break free of the establishment and actually fight for the freedoms our forefathers gave everything to win for us. Just thought I’d post a little haiku on that subject.
`
Waving proud and free —
Liberty’s banner endures:
Battered but not lost.
Is It Spring Yet?
I see a little clump of snow just here and there.
And I see gray and blustery clouds most everywhere.
But in my heart I know things are about to turn,
And though the ‘month of love’ I do disdain to spurn,
I am so jolly glad that March is moving in;
I’m quite prepared to meet it with a friendly grin.
But then I stop and tell myself, “Remember dear,
That we’ve had heavy snows in March some other years.”
Alas, that is a daunting thought, but I intend
To cast that sad reminder to the garbage bin.
I’m holding out for sunny skies and grasses green
And happy flowers where dried up sod and snow has been.
Soul Art Cinquain
Sometimes
It is enough
To take up brush and pen
And lay down shapes and colors soft —
Soul art.
Counting The Cost
Being in this lockdown mode takes quite a toll
On, not just my activities, but on my soul.
I’ve found that although at the start, I chafed and whined,
Now, after many months, I’ve become self-inclined.
Where I was once outgoing and with people pleased,
I now am focused on myself, and I’ve perceived
That my self-world is very small and incomplete;
I can’t connect in person; no more meet and greet,
And even online friends, I’ve gradually set aside,
And drifted from the fellowship they did provide.
I wonder if these extreme efforts to stay “safe”
Are costing more than we should be willing to pay.
For while it’s true a little time alone is good,
Still too much time alone, it must be understood,
Can shrivel and dry up even gregarious souls;
We must have real-life fellowship to keep us whole.
The Secret of the Ribbon Tree
I wrote this poem several years ago, but got to thinking about it this week — probably because we are coming up on Valentine’s Day. So I decided to give it some time online again.
THE SECRET OF THE RIBBON TREE
I’ve wondered round this earth for years,
And known my share of joys and tears.
I’ve laughed with love and cried for loss,
And broken dreams like rubbish tossed.
I’ve seen sights soaked in splendid sun
And bathed by moon when day was done.
But ’til today I’d not seen such
A sight that stirred my heart this much:
A giant, handsome, stately tree
Bedecked with ribbons midst the leaves.
Such gorgeous bows of silk, blood-red,
Tied as if on maiden’s head.
I stood and pondered what it meant:
This work of art to nature lent.
Who ties these bows, and why, I asked.
Who set himself this tedious task?
Some lover dreaming of soul-mate,
Who joyous love anticipates?
But there was none who, passing by,
Could tell me who, or how, or why.
And though I stood ’till set of sun
I found no answer; no, not one.
So on I trudged my weary way,
To reach my post by end of day.
But as I went, I sang a song:
Though much in this old world is wrong,
Still someone with a heart of love,
Took time and, with care, beauty wove –
Amidst the branches of old tree –
A gift of ribbons for all to see:
To lift the heart and light’n the load
Of each soul passing ‘long that road.
The Happy Wordcrafter 