Why does a sweet taste
Always convert to inches
Added to the waist?
May 23, 2011
May 23, 2011 at 1:38 AM UTC
I'd get off the bus after school
and down the lane he would come.
He'd run round me in circles, barking.
My very best friend; my Chum.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was the youngest of the litter,
the smallest by over a head.
Dad looked at him critically
saying "Son. He'll soon be dead."
But as I held that puppy
I saw a fire in his eyes.
So I said, "Please Dad. Let me keep him.
I'll make sure that he survives."
So I nursed him, and cared for him,
Fed him crumb by crumb,
and all the time I cried to him
"Please don't die on me Chum."
After many long weeks of nursing
Chum was coming on fine.
He was now feeding himself
and his coat had begun to shine.
By the time school holidays were over
I knew my dad had been wrong,
for gone was the puny weakling.
Chum was now healthy and strong.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'd get off the bus after school
and down the lane he would come.
He'd run round me in circles, barking
My very best friend; my Chum
~~~~~~~~~~~~
But one day I got off the bus
and Chum just wasn't there.
I raced home and ran to my mother,
"Have you seen Chum anywhere?"
No one knew where he was,
I raced outside calling his name,
but since he hadn't met the bus
I feared I was calling in vain.
I wandered all over our farm
looking for my faithful dog
till by the creek where he'd saved me from drowning
I found him trapped under a log
His poor front leg was broken.
Flesh cut down to the bone,
but he didn't even whimper
as I gently carried him home.
With lots of loving care
Chum was quickly on the mend.
His eyes seemed to be telling me
that I had made a life long friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was soon at the bus stop again.
Yes, down the lane he would come.
He'd run round me in circles, barking.
My very best friend; my Chum.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then I left school and took up a job,
I'd been away for almost a year.
On the bus my thoughts were on Chum
as the hills of home drew near
I worried if he would remember me,
if he'd remember how we used to play.
If he'd remember how I'd cared for him,
and how he'd wait for me every day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
My heart leapt as I got off the bus,
for down the lane he did come.
He ran round me in circles, barking,
then sank his teeth in my ***
Apr 11, 2011
Apr 11, 2011 at 5:27 AM UTC
Lost.
One heart.
Possibly stolen.
Please do not break.
If found at your feet, please return or nurture.
Chest empty. Will accept trade, one for one.
Reward offered.
Contact *** ***
Apr 3, 2011
Apr 3, 2011 at 5:48 AM UTC
The Hello Poetry community
Contains a broad cross section of humanity
The witty, the somber. Those laden with grief
The loving, the loveless, those seeking relief
The bold and fearless. The timid and meek
Some write with passion, some tongue in cheek
Some hide behind masks and impenetrable walls
But many bring light to these labyrinthine halls
One brighter than most that turns night into day
Is the shimmering aura of sweet Lily Mae
When she opens her soul and leads you to feel
You instinctively know her compassion is real
The heart of an angel beats in her chest
The dove of peace she could take as her crest
Her thoughts and emotions are open to view
Her poems are loving, with words that ring true
In times of uncertainty, filled with despair
I sought comfort in the words of this damsel so fair
And invariably they have proved a godsend
I am humble and proud to call her, ‘my friend’
Apr 1, 2011
Apr 1, 2011 at 5:54 AM UTC
Kind and loving words
Pierce my chest, my walls, my shields
Caressing my heart
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A brief taste of love
Leaving me yearning for more
My heart is smiling
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My thoughts are on you
My arms and heart are open
Waiting to embrace.
Mar 23, 2011
Mar 23, 2011 at 10:15 PM UTC
I look in the mirror and see a void
An outcast, doomed to die alone
I have no hope of love’s sweet comfort
I have a house, but not a home
I yearn to feel the hand of friendship
On arm or shoulder, or to touch my face
But I know that my next true comfort
Will be to welcome death’s embrace
No sons or daughters to mourn my passing
No family that gives a ****
I see no point, I have no future
To death’s cold hand I would submit
My death would do the world a favour
One less useless waste of space
But sadly I believe in karma
So must let the reaper set the pace
I plod along this pointless path
Hopes and dreams, lost in the mist
Eking out my days in sorrow
While awaiting life’s final farewell kiss
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 3:54 AM UTC
A man’s wedding ring
Symbolizes abstinence
At least when he’s home
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 2:01 AM UTC
It is not without trepidation that I begin at last to write
For how does one do justice without appearing banal or trite?
I know I am not worthy of the task that lies ahead
But there is so much about your writing that I feel needs to be said
To see Ephemera on “Latest Poems” demands an immediate read
Another chance to devour your words with an endless insatiable greed
From fiery passion to sweet seduction and all emotions in between
From love or yearning, cold or burning, your words enfold me in your scene
With so few words you say so much, your point invariably succinct
And I am often left with the feeling your heart has opened up, and winked
Always thought provoking, each write a pure gem
You have the ability to make each reader feel your words are just for them
Ephemera, my teacher, my mentor, sweet poetess extraordinaire
The world is less intimidating through having you out there
I wish every joy to the author of your words so wise and sweet
And humbly give thanks for your talent as I lay this tribute at your feet.
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 3:38 AM UTC
First, five syllables
The second line has seven
Third line, back to five
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 11:53 AM UTC
I’ll write a sweet poem
About a woman’s beauty
**** Ran out of space)
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 3:42 AM UTC