summer, marsh concert
wind blows reeds
herons, bullfrogs' songs
Jul 9, 2020
Jul 9, 2020 at 9:59 AM UTC
nightingales attend
somber, stars
soul departs, eve flight
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 8:18 PM UTC
the shamrocks bleed.....Ireland's countrymen gang wars, slaying each others' dreams
Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 3:45 PM UTC
dropkick Murphys.....smoky pubs, height of Irish rough voiced songs, Celtic gifts
Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 3:42 PM UTC
Clover and moss adornment,
fields of ancient emerald mellow,
with spring lambs innocent,
elderly farmer with a tea stained
smile.
Yet, north of there,
her people warring,
life spills on concrete,
and in the singing wind
is the song of the Troubles.
My maiden, my Eire,
are you ever at rest?
Where are your children?
Sons and daughters,
youth no more to come home,
Scars on a beauty,
she, she, will it go on into eternity?
My beauty, the souls and
shamrocks in the dew,
weep just as much as you.
Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 12:50 PM UTC
He was born July 2, 1925,
son of James and Jesse Evers,
Medgar Evers of Mississippi,
World War II veteran,
fought in the Battle of Normandy,
June 1944,
with his soldier brothers
of same and other races.
He rose a leader,
a Freedom Hero,
Mississippi field secretary of NAACP,
President, Regional Council of
***** Leaders,
husband of Myrlie, her purity
of devotion,
father of Darrell, Reena Denise,
and James,
civil rights leadership of the
highest calling,
of a bravery that persevered
again.
That early morning,
June 12, 1963,
a shot of hate tore
through his heart,
he was fallen in his own driveway,
his family witnessed this
most heinous of murders
committed in the insanity
of human acridity,
the bitterness in our psyches.
June 19, 1963,
full military honors,
Arlington National Cemetery,
for a man of a character so
much more loving
than his assassin's.
We, as a people,
we must obliterate
pre-conceived assumptions,
faulty thoughts of each other.
Medgar Evers of Mississippi,
Medgar Evers of America,
posthumously awarded the
Spingarn Medal,
murdered in a country
he fought for,
merited eternally by God.
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 9:53 AM UTC
In our stroll of a charmed neighborhood-
we came upon a forest green garden arch,
how the crisp white hydrangea
blooms framed it so glorious,
so abundantly,
a vision for dreams to recall,
to those desponding-
this is a balm for their
wounded thoughts,
and for lovers rejoiced in
young union,
as the graying man who
just mowed his lawn sleeps
in a hammock,
in summer snow's fragrance
of no cares.
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 3:10 PM UTC
you would not forgive me.....my
tears' silent song ascended to
rapt saints
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 12:32 PM UTC
dawn, in her envy, disrobes the stars, .....fair moon, sorrows in her sojourn
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 12:07 PM UTC
If we would love like a rose,
soft petals as if a gentle kiss,
of a fragrance nostalgic of
youthful loves,
and blissfully innocent,
unknowing, of the world's woes,
gracefully poised on a trellis,
as if waiting to be asked
to dance a waltz.
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 9:20 AM UTC