Every once in a while, I write poetry straight from my head and leave it where I wrote it when i'm writing an e-mail or in the message board. These are some of them that I have picked up off the ground of whereI left them. Now I dust them off and put them in the china cabinet of works that is apricotpie.com in no apparent order,
I wish to steal the sky
I really, really, try
I reach and reach
A lesson tries to teach
Only God can posses something so high
one day, a very sad day God said to me,
"little child little child do not cry if you may."
"for your here to stay so wipe away the tears on your cheek."
"so lets go for a walk and we can talk all the day away"
so off we went,
my hand in his,
his hand in mine I knew he was so kind,
then he said to me,
"little child little child tell me all your problems"
"for your here to stay on this day and on this walk so we can talk all the day away"
I told him my problems and then he said to me.
(Based on a dream.)
What a beautiful house! A big lovely Victorian, extensive gardens, period decorations, everything delightful. I'm so glad we found out about this.
Naomi Shihab Nye wrote in her poem, Valentine for Ernest Mann, that poetry hides...and what we have to do is live in a manner that enables us to find it...to see it.. This started me thinking about the poetry in everyday life...and here is the result.
Today, I decide to search for Poetry Embarking on a safari, I explore Dusty tables, hand knit bags and crowded closets for Elusive poetic bits
Poetry hides in the light clicking of the keyboard, late homework pressing the keys to a flurry of activity
Loose with weariness was I Walking with my eyes half-closed My feet strayed onto strange paths Cloaked in dread and evil Trees leaned in to whisper lies Shadowed beasts lurked silently Only phantoms to my eyes Then they attacked Sweeping down from treetops dark Dashing in from thorns and briars A violent awakening Monsters of myth and legend Stalking our reality Screaming in utter terror But He comes and takes my hand I can see the monsters now But I also see His beauty
Along the beach, I saw a cave
In which lay everlasting night;
And being (I thought) bold and brave,
I for adventure felt a crave,
And turned my back on day and light.
Inside I paused, and peered around
And as my eyes adjusted, saw
That bones were littered on the ground
The bones of men, caught by a hound
And torn by some cruel iron claw.
And on the wall, did signs appear,
All writ with blood and words of death:
'Come deeper in these halls, come near
And join our fate – forsake your fear!'
I wright beacus i am brave and beacuse i have
faith in my self and i really enjoy it.
I wright becuse i love it and i want people to read
it and i want people to enjoy
my work.
When you think about something
or draw somthing
and you think or
you know you can make a
story out of it do it
i would love to hear it
i LOVE to write
and i want to know
what you like to do .
Sing to the tune of "The Big Time For Us!" from the musical, "The Will Rogers Follies". Enjoy!