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362 · Feb 2014
For all time
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
a fierce guardian will stand
with flaming sword
guarding Eden's gate.
Written April 2013
361 · Feb 2014
The Young Prince Is Born
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
shimmering through trees
wind reveals in shadows lay
newborn fawn by doe
Written November 2013
My title was making a reference to Bambi, which is one of my favorite Disney movies, although the poem is referring to an actual fawn.
361 · Feb 2014
Beauty and the Beast
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
Asked the baker to his wife,
"Sky was filled with light,
know you what occurred last night?"

Looking at him, she replied,
"Beauty fell in love with Beast."

Gathered at the castle now--
hall filled with dancing--
cheers sang though the crowed room:

"Tale as old as time, song as
old as rhyme, Beauty and Beast."
Written November 2013
357 · Feb 2014
Nora
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
in crystal does she reside
frozen, she will abide
until the time he finds a cure
body will not mature
timeless until he succeeds
she is his wife-- Nora Freeze
Inspired by Batman and Robin (1997)
353 · Feb 2014
Summer Night
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
song fills the air as
crickets sweetly sing nearby--
fireflies flicker
written in 2012
349 · Feb 2014
8th Grade
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
I found her in the bathroom
With silent tears, facing the wall
We hadn't been back a week, but it didn't matter
Dried eyes, walked out
Teasing again
"Leave her alone"
Glaring, they went to class
"I'm Monica"
"Rachel"
"I believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another." - Veronica Roth, Divergent
Written November 2013
337 · Feb 2014
Stripes on a Canvas
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
A blank canvas:
Anything is possible.

Will you paint bright colours?
Rainbows and sunshine,
Full of hope and magic?

Or will you will paint darkness?
The grotesque images,
Which strip away our childhood?

The choice is yours to create.
So what will you paint?
Written in 2010
327 · Feb 2014
Shared Memories, Dreams
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
It sat on the the oldest bench
in New York City's park.
There was no one around
to claim the spiral bound journal.
Approaching it with slow steps,
I looked quizzically down
and read upon dark blue cover,
"Please take me home
Share your journey,
And pass me on"
Curious, cautious
I picked it up
and began to read.
Filled with poems
I wasn't quite sure what
to make of it at first.
Yet as I continued on,
I noticed dates, places.
Seven people
had held this book before me.
Seven people
had written tales of their lives.
It started by the river,
with life in a small town
in Virginia.
Traveled West with family of four--
the youngest brother wrote that one.
A new mother found it next
and wrote of her precious child,
her hopes and dreams,
of who her daughter would become.
Her brother found the book next,
then taking it with him on his flight,
he wrote about his war time overseas.
Left in the airport,
a history professor caught sight
of the spiral
smiled at shared memories
before writing a short piece
on his journey home.
Taking it with him, northbound,
it was left at the next terminal,
and picked up by the granddaughter
of  a WWII vet, staying with them
for the winter break.
She penned a piece before heading off to bed.
Tales of life left on the living room table,
The warrior wrote about
a short piece of his life he rarely shared.
A little after dawn the next day,
he followed his morning routine,
walking through the park near his home.
Then, resting on the oldest bench in the park,
he sat the journal down and finished his walk.
Written November 2013
Recreated (superior version) February 2014 as "Reminiscence"
325 · Feb 2014
To be the Lover of Wisdom
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
Philosopher's stone of a different kind,
grant me now this wish of mine:

The ability to speak with anyone--
from future, present, or the past--
regardless of their native tongue,
answer any question asked.

Talent will not to me be constricted,
to my descendants shall it be passed.
Wisdom shall become depicted,
as our knowledge is amassed.

Scholars, engineers, artists, and writers--
endless possibilities for who we become.
Fabric of time, personal cyphers:
this knowledge begets new freedom.
Written October 2013
You found an artifact of some sort - doesn't matter what it is - but it enables you to grant ONE wish. What would you wish for?
323 · Feb 2014
The Battle
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
The dragon hunted them,
the babe and his mother.
It followed them into the wilderness,
but they were protected
by the LORD.
In heaven above,
Michael and the serpent fought;
the dragon, the fallen were cast out.
Written November 2013
312 · Feb 2014
The New Arrival
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
Iron shackles bind wrists
to a cold, wet stone wall.
Moans echo down the hall
while chains clank in the night.

Fire flickers on the sconces
lining the corridor walls.

Footsteps draw near.
Someone is walking down the
hallway. The guards speak
of a new prisoner's arrival.

What time shall he arrive?
Where will he be kept?

Someone important--
that's what one said.
Confusion abounds at
this stranger's fate.

This place was built not for
political prisoners to be taken to.

The rest of us forgotten,
the small meal is lost.
Hunger gnarls within:
no food will come this eve.
written in 2012
100 words
recreated with only 80 of these words in "The Prisoner"
309 · Feb 2014
Moonlit Sky
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
Velvet sky stretched out
    above my head
Night caresses with
    sweet words--
Wind moves around me.

Pale glow beams softly
    from the sky
Luna charms, melodic
    whispers---
Dance in moon flower
written in 2012
307 · Feb 2014
The Wolf
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
I am a mother
I have three children
and I teach them daily
I teach them to play, to speak,
when it is best to be silent,
and how to hunt.
I have a spouse,
we are loyal to each other,
mated for life.

You fear me, hate me
simply because I exist.
History has portrayed me,
my kind as evil,
especially in your fairy tales.
Yet have you ever wondered
how many of those stories
were actually based upon my brethren?
Or, why, in these tragedies,
do you portray, a single predator
when you know we are a pack?

We are a small group,
mostly eradicated by your people.
Though we are beginning to
have births, growth--
we are still too few.
You cannot speak my language,
do not understand how we
protect each other,
provide for each other.

For a while you guarded us,
but now you call us a danger.
What have we done to you?
Why are you hunting me? my family?
Do you hate me because I survived?
because I did not die out when you
invaded, destroyed my home?
Do you hate me because you fear me?
Originally titled "United", I changed this to proved a clearer context (the poem was designed to go along with a background image). I was hoping to show these beautiful creatures as a family that we can coexist with (as we can with all nature) if we would but take the time to learn about them and provide them with adequate space to live.

Written November 2013
283 · Feb 2014
In the Garden
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
staring up at tallest tree,
whose seed has danced around the moon
I am awed how we are one
The Moon Tree can be found next to the Dunn Formal Rose Garden. It is actually an American sycamore that was grown from a seed that orbited the Moon with Stuart Roosa in Apollo 14's command module while Alan Shepard and Edgar Mitchell walked on the lunar surface.  Stuart Roosa, a former smoke jumper with the United States Forest Service, was approached about bringing the seeds into space and resulted as a joint NASA/USFS project to study the effects of weightlessness on seed germination and seedling growth. Other trees were planted in Brazil, Switzerland, at the White House and presented to such notables as the Emperor of Japan.

President Gerald Ford, in a bicentennial Moon Tree ceremony, called the trees living symbols of "our spectacular human and scientific achievements."

http://www.bbgardens.org/other-areas.php
271 · Feb 2014
Winter Morn
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
glancing out the window,
cold slumbers on the ground
illuminated by morning's glow

alabaster trees--
hidden secrets lie within
this silent world
written in 2012
269 · Feb 2014
Falling Rain
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
Mist begins to form
Thunder rumbles overhead
I feel my lips smile

Moment by moment
The sun's rays cannot peak through
I walk through the storm

Droplets fall on me
Lightning flashes overhead
Wind flows spiraled path

Rejoice in this brief
Sporadic moment of peace
From the light's harsh glare

Twirling in the rain
Simple pleasures of the past
To be a child again

Continual pour
Lasting longer that I thought
Day is nearly gone

Dancing by the moon
In the quiet of the night
Gentle rain falling
written in 2012
267 · Feb 2014
Every Time
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
Every Christmas, birthday, or any other holiday
              where gifts are exchanged,
I am asked the same question,
"What would you like?"
Don't you know by now?
It's not gifts I want.
I don't want jewelry or clothing or  money or trips;
I don't want new books--though you know I enjoy those;
I don't want chocolate or a new phone.
Don't you know by now?
All I want is to spend some time with you.
Written November 2013
258 · Feb 2014
Sounds of the Forest
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
Forest:
silent until
one truly listens to God’s
plan…then, sound burst through…and one hears
Nature
Written in 2012
241 · Feb 2014
Colours of the sky
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
When asked, "What colour is the sky?"
Most people answer, "Blue."
But I have a challenge
That I must ask of you:

Next time the sun is setting
Or's about to rise,
Look up, I ask of you,
Look up into the sky;

Tell me of the colours
Of the purple, red, and gold,
Floating in the wind,
In the sky so very bold.

Next time some mentions,
That the sky is blue,
Remember there are more colours
Which can inspire you
Written in 2010
238 · Feb 2014
A Prayer
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
.                                            Father, forgive
                                             them,” are the
                                            words You cried,
                                             while nailed to
                                            the cross which
                                            should have been
                                            mine. At Calvary,
                                             You conquered
                                          death and covered
all of my sin, so that I may enter heaven and spend eternity with You.
“Why do you love me?” I ask, most every time I pray. I am not worthy
of Your love, but freely You give it anyway. I mess up time and again,
yet you forgive it all. I’ll never fully understand, at least not while I am
still here upon this earth, and even then, after ten thousand years, I’m
                                          not sure I will. Yet
                                        continually I’ll praise
                                        You, and thank You
                                          for each new day.
                                          For all of  the joys
                                          in my life, and for
                                          the suffering too.
                                          Every trail in this
                                        life you have given
                                          to me is a way to
                                        praise who You are.
                                        It’s a way to rely on
                                        You day by day, to
                                        think of others first.
                                        And every blessing
                                         You pour out is a
                                         gift to share with
                                        all of your children.
As the title says, this is actually a written prayer, and just reading it has helped me. I posted this, with the hope that by sharing this that it will help someone else. God has blessed your day in so many ways, even the ones we don't see as blessings may be gifts in disguise from Him. Please take the time to pray to Him, to remember that He is the One in control and that He loves you no matter what.
232 · Feb 2014
Five Days of Silence
BrittneyBrannum Feb 2014
In this time of my retreat,
I have a mission to complete:
To take the time and self reflect,
To give myself some introspect.

I'll meditate, first day alone,
Concentrate on my atone.
Twist and contort, (I'll do yoga too);
Each new level I will pursue.

On day the next, I'll pray and read
About the one who bled for me.
He's alive, oh sweet bliss,
That I shall not fall into abyss.

Sunset and then sunrise,
The new day brings a surprise.
For on this day, I shall explore:
Hike until I can trek no more.

On my last day without a word,
I'll think about what I've not heard;
And then I'll journal it all down
These qualities which are renown.


Tomorrow shall bring noise again
And with the sound, women and men.
I'll have missed the human touch,
But times they can be a bit much.
Written in 2011

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