Eclipse ….by Jessie


The sun it rises every day from the horizon on the east.
A shining star and heated orb, this galaxies burring beast.
The sun it burns so very bright for its love the celestial moon.
Which makes her grand appearance, eight hours after noon.
A ballet up in heavens sky, as they chase each other around.
Humans with our season tickets, watching from the ground.
The moon she waxes full of love and wanes when all depressed.
Every month she does the same, seemingly without distress.
They love each other with intensity; even though they rarely meet.
Waiting for the magical time, when the two will finely greet.
With love so gentle, we need no aid to see a lunar eclipse.
When sun and moon get the chance, to finely have a kiss.

how do I write about the beauty of the world
when barefoot people pass before my window
in search of shelter

how do I share my pleasure of the birds' sweet song at dawn
when I see faces etched with panic
from the deafening blast of bombs

how to rejoice in love and friendship
when meeting people who could barely save their lives
after burying their loved ones

how can I write with passion of the kindness of the human heart
when I see thousands fleeing from the ruins of their homes
only to face police   walls   barbed wire

true words are hard to find
as said a poet of an older war

    when it is a lie to speak
    a lie to keep silent

not easy

a grandchild
   for her 9th birthday
very happy
    to be away from her older
   as well as her younger sister
  for a while
spent a  long weekend
with her grands

   they picked her up
   schoolbag and bathing suit
   and guitar & everything else

she had already mentioned
   that French Toast for breakfast
would be REALLY nice
and that’s what she got
together with chocolate milk
   1 minute in the microwave,
   according to her wish
patiently reading her book
while the oldies got their act together
   in their slow morning routine

they all went birthday shopping
   & out for lunch
she read her book again while the oldies
    were snoring their nap
& then they all had great fun
    swimming and horsing around in the public pool

watching some TV  
   & improving her ping-pong game
happy & tired
after dinner some goodnight reading
doughnuts and hot chocolate for breakfast
next morning
   and then
    with grandma’s help
printing out a card for Mom on Mother’s day
AND baking real  brownies as a gift….

a happy & proud 9-year old
   was delivered to her parents
& presented her mother with the card
   & the brownies & the new dress
   & the homework all done

somehow
the guitar practice had gotten lost

yet she was the envy of her siblings
for the day

           * *

Sometimes when I fall
Into a pit of despair.
When the dark clouds roll
You are always there.

I offer a finger
and get Your hand.
To lift me up
to solid land.

Sometimes. Sometimes
I have no idea where I'm headed.
Directions of hope
Or some place most dreaded.  

But always. Always
I feel Your hand holding me.
Lifting me up to a new day
Standing. Where I need to be.

I would be lost with
More than I could bear
But You Oh Father.
You are Always There.

It has been seven years since Paddy posted his last poem. I am taking the previlege to bring it back up top. Please read his poems.

Paddy Martin Jan 2011
An Australian Summer Sonnet.
I pray thee sun thou should set,
or take thy leave better yet,
wouldst at last my thirst be gone,
But alas thee linger, and linger on.

There be no flower not yet dead,
no water flows in yonder river bed.
'Tis a heat where nought doth grow,
nor doth thee ever mercy show.

Dry of skin and parch of throat,
a man doth need no overcoat.
Thy rays doth burn mine eyes,
they do not hear mine mercy cries.

If there be a place where chill be found,
'Tis there it be that I be bound,
A place where there be no burning sun,
show it to me, so to it I shall run.

(c) 26th January 2010
with apoligies to all you Shakespeare freaks
I was thinking how Will would have handled our Oz summer heat.