blue skies
ten boys played soccer
taken by surprise
We never know when disaster will strike. My dear friend was hit by lightening several days before and survived. Sadness mingles with gratitude.
Clear Weather #unexpected
Tag: sorrow
The Date #wordprompt #sixwords
Not Under The Tree #Emmanuel #Christmas #Hope
On this dry orb called earth, women continue to beg for peace, hope for their children to survive, and yearn for love. There is one love that seeks to save and heal the lost His name – Emmanuel.
I hear the beat
dry, fruitless dirt
soldier’s cruel boots
echo on the earth
***
We beg for peace
our limbs weak, torn
Messiah we wait
free us from scorn
***
Emmanuel
we await the day
that you will drive
world’s hate away
***
We beg for hope
our babes they die
cruel these times
no tears left in our eyes
***
A child born
who knew His pain
God’s son broke
death’s eternal chain
***
Emmanuel
we await the day
that you will drive
world’s hate away
Strengthened by Sorrow #poetry #art
sadness reign
she clung to covers
tear soaked rain
daily same
dark clouds pushed all hope away
sun always went down
*
long for love
little girls have fears
never clear
thunder claps
no where to hide from sorrow
storm so near
*
unbroken
words never spoken
standing tall
don’t look back
bright is tomorrow’s token
hope is queen
Today’s prompt at Poet’s United – “Resilience”
Photo: “The Sulker” Jacques Villon 1900
Painting from Paul Mellon collection – National Gallery
Jacques Villon aka Gaston Émile Duchamp (born July 31, 1875 died June 9, 1963) was a French painter and printmaker who was involved in the Cubist movement; later he worked in realistic and abstract styles.
Villon was the brother of artists Suzanne Duchamp, Raymond Duchamp-Villon, and Marcel Duchamp. In 1894 he went to Paris to study law, but, once there, he became more interested in art, and he spent the next 12 years contributing illustrations and cartoons to newspapers. In 1903 Villon was one of the founders of the Salon d’Automne, an exhibiting association that was created as an alternative to the traditional Salon. He began to study painting in 1904.
The Shadorma is a Spanish poetic form made up of a stanza of six lines
(sestet) with no set rhyme scheme.
It is a syllabic poem with a meter of 3/5/3/3/7/5.
It can have many stanzas, as long as each follows the meter.
Little is known about this poetic style’s origins and history
but it is used by many modern poets today.
Listen in Sorrow #birds #poetry #loss
happy you tend to the garden
waking me daily with song
bringing cheer never sorrow
I find myself singing along
*
more work is there in the morrow
gather and fashion a nest
complaints never are filed
rarely do you stop for a rest
*
little one out in the wet storm
no jacket to fend off the rain
grateful for your reminder
sun always follows the pain
*
I take my pen sadly to paper
to write about someone I love
gone toward braodened horizons
taken gently to heaven above
*
spring raindrops
birds joyful refrain
tears fall freely
Today at Poet’s United the prompt is Birds.
This haibun is lovingly written for my father-in-law Robert who left us today.
Where is Tomorrow??? #devotion #poetry #photography
What shelf is broad enough
to place my burdens and my pains?
what jug deep, wide and stout
my tears won’t wash away?
Where can I lay my head
a little rest to gain?
your hand I reach for in the night
and beg you please to stay
*
I wander in the shadows now
not sure what tomorrow brings
but this my cry into the night
I will not fail to sing
my voice no longer is in tune
(tho) you hear with no hindering
I smile because I know you care
you bear me on broad wings
This poem is written to encourage any of you who feel too weak to raise your head off the pillow of sorrow, loneliness or pain.
Rest in the LORD and wait patiently for Him…
Psalm 37:7
On God my salvation and my glory rest; The rock of my strength, my refuge is in God.
Psalm 62:7
Today – I’d like to share this with Poet’s Pantry and GodVerse.
Lifeless #loss #death #poetry #haiku #photography
breath in my laughter
where do I look now for life?
I live in black
A Departed Soul is the haiku prompt at Chevrefeuilles Carpe Diem today. Please go to the site to read the wonderful haiku.
Impotence in Loss #poetry #photography
I can’t catch the tears
cascading down your face
nor stem emotion’s tide
rushing as if in a race
*
I can’t cradle you
as in quiet you groan
nor ease the suffering
that comes when you’re alone
*
I can’t be where I’d like to be
holding back the sorrow
the life that will no longer be
knowing he wont be there tomorrow
*
But know if I could
I’d place my finger in the crack
that will never seal
part of you never quite on track
*
I will say a prayer
love you and yours more
spill my own tears
cast rose petals on the shore
Have you suffered loss?
then you know there is that place
that is always a bit raw
a tear that escapes
a heart that skips a beat
My dearest friend lost her father today.
This man was a father to many more than his four
I was one of the dozen kids he offered a home to.
He no average man a heart big and warm
Safe journey to distant shores
father and
friend
*
The little red shovel #philippines #poetry #dpchallenge
Red plastic shovel
held moments ago
favorite blue cap
on your sunshine face
crooked it sat
I am washed away
claimed by sorrow
you pulled
by the riptides of life
Both driven
toward fate’s tomorrow
you toward the sea
I toward the land
and I face the dawn
alone
embraced by the sand
Uncountable are the buckets of tears that have been shed by mothers who have lost their children. The mothers in the Philippines too well embrace sorrow as a well-known unwelcome friend.
This poem in its simplicity is another tear to add to the buckets…
Reality check: This post is a reflection that I am sharing with the wordpress dpchallenge prompt Frightening. I was inspired to write this poem for the children lost in the claws of disaster in the Philippines after I saw the pieces of a child that were being picked up by police on a busy street corner. They included a child’s red shovel and a little blue cap. Tears poured from my eyes and I could only hope those things fell from a vehicle not from the arms of a child.
Here’s what other’s wrote:
- The inequality in Gender Equality: A simply case of “Ladies First” | I am Mike Obiora
- Frightening | The Magic Black Book
- Daily Prompt: Fright Night | Under the Monkey Tree
- Eek! Agggh! “Splat!” | Anniemation Floe
- Cut it off.. | ayimas
- Fright | The Nameless One
- FRIGHTENING | thinkerscap
- Light Scatters Fright … | Eyes to Heart
- Fear is for Sissys | mostlytrueramblings
- For A Drink I Can Conquer The World | The Jittery Goat
- Daily Prompt: Fright Night | Awl and Scribe
- Maybe If You Paid Me | sayanything
- Afraid of the dark? | vicariously in love with you
- Afraid of the dark? | vicariously in love with you
- Frightening | JC Bride ~
- Are you afraid of the dark yet? | vicariously in love with you
- Fear takes baqckseat | crookedeyebrows
- Daily prompt: Fright night | ferwam
- alone | not4faintheartsblog
- “Fright Night” | Relax
Traversing Autumn’s Path #poetry #photography #loss
Her hands clasped to mine
we walked along autumn’s path
crunching beneath our feet
the remnants of yesterday’s glory
she picked up a leaf
what I thought was dew was a tear
“why do you cry, my love?”
my eyes thoughtful
“life is perishing beneath our feet
we are crushing aged spring
we walk the burial ground of the seasons”
“press this amber leaf against your heart
feel its resonating warmth
hear him tell you his story
let it be a reminder of the past
then welcome the new season
a time for ends and reflection
reach your hands to grasp the snowflakes
purity falls over barren trees
and spring returns to remind us
of that which we have lost
and of that which we might gain”
“another year of this loss?”
I saw her eyes pool
“I don’t think I can bare it”
“but another year of promise as well
life, love and new beginnings
those too will grow in the coming year
one day we will look back
the skeletons beneath our feet
will not sound like death with each step
I will once again look up
and see life blossoming in your eyes”
This week marks the second anniversary of the death of a child in our neighborhood who was tragically swept away by a flash flood The lights represent candles and sentiments that lined the family’s driveway last year. Blue ribbons hang, year round, on our trees, sign posts and mailboxes in memory of this loss..
penned in moon dust 