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David Lessard Aug 2017
Forget iambic pentameter,
or rhyming every line;
your a poet or your not,
if you think you are-that's fine.

Forget the mystic musings,
let's call a *****, a *****;
just give it all you've got,
hey, we're not getting paid.

Forget the morbid statements,
they don't get you anywhere;
and if they ever did -
who the hell would care?

Call the glowing rose, a rose,
not some flaky, foolish flower;
call a downpour- heavy rain,
not some puny shower.

Call it love or call it hate,
not some stupid choice;
but shout it from the mountaintop,
in your strongest voice!
David Lessard Aug 2017
Take the heat of day and
soak it in,
till you feel like,  you are
done;
then hurry to the shade,
and then,   ignore the sun.
Summer is a scorcher, in
these parts,
it's a likelihood you may
combust;
whatever way you go -
you'll turn to dust.
The skin will blister, then
turn red,
the wounds will seep, like
syrup, flowing;
you'll blister like a
ripened peach,
if you're not knowing.
Whatever happens, do not
fall asleep,
when you wake, you'll be
a lobster...red;
boiled to a crisp, outside,
not in a water-bed.
Or better yet,  don't take
that chance,
respect the heat's great
shining wrath;
is an hour way too long
or not?
I've given you the facts -
you do the math.
David Lessard Aug 2017
Come back to where love dwells,
in the garden of your dreams;
to where the heart is calling,
in rich and vibrant reams.
To where the soul is longing,
to drift and sail away;
to where the mind can capture,
the loveliness of day.
Come back to where the heart is,
that desires happiness;
to where the world is pleasant,
with your touch and by your kiss.
Stay and rest your harried life,
and take in treasured hope,
hope that rises up above,
to realms where you can cope.
Come back... forget the sorrow,
of a lonely stretch of heartache;
and fill it now with new love,
...all that you can take.
David Lessard Aug 2017
It started with a scratchy throat,
then zapped my nose and eyes;
coughing, sneezing, wheezing,
and my mournful little cries.

Invaded by an unknown foe,
that gave me chills and shakes;
Yes, I tried the chicken soup,
and whatever else it takes.

Can't do things when you're sick,
my organs aren't bionic,
I sit stiffly in my chair,
very rigid;  catatonic.

My rhinitis is pathetic,
a sieve I cannot quell;
my eyes leak liquids too,
it's the truth -I feel like hell.

It could be due to weather;
perhaps some allergies;
but I am on the mending road,
whops-excuse me while I sneeze!
David Lessard Aug 2017
The darkness passed,
the sunshine of my heart;
threw me for a loop,
the way it came apart.

It was sudden and complete,
once stopped, it did not start;
the shadows never left,
the eclipse of my heart.

To begin, the day was bright,
no clouds up in the air;
blue skies and a breeze,
we were a happy pair.

Then the sun just disappeared,
without warning, without sound;
I searched, but you weren't there,
you were lost, and never found.

Now - I'm half of what it is I was,
you were my strong and major part;
now -  it's fading all away,
with a total eclipse of my heart
David Lessard Aug 2017
The bear grass looks so lush,
in the fading of the light;
it's pleasure on my vision,
as the day turns into night.

The breeze is soft and gentle,
like a lover's sweet caress;
the coolness is a balm,
in this eve of summer's rest.

Jax leads me by his leash,
he knows the way back home;
there is no pressure tugging,
it's like he's free to roam.

In the distance, mountains,
take on a purple hue;
pastoral hills abound,
the sky grows darker blue.

The evening's walk's refreshing,
it clears the mind and soul;
erasing turbulence,
easing living's toll.
David Lessard Aug 2017
Nothing lasts forever,
neither love,  nor hate;
whatever your endeavor,
think about its fate.

The flowers bloom and die,
some withered, on the stake;
leave them where they lie,
for you and heaven's sake.

Nothing lasts forever,
not joy and neither pain;
but we don't give up,  ever,
for our loss, we too, can gain.

Memories bring sorrow,
memories bring joy;
we face a new tomorrow,
whatever we employ.

Nothing lasts forever,
but souls, they live in God;
who for us, is much too clever,
though some may think -  that's odd.
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