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  Nov 2015 Kim
Robert Service
My poem may be yours indeed
In melody and tone,
If in its rhythm you can read
A music of your own;
If in its pale woof you can weave
Your lovelier design,
'Twill make my lyric, I believe,
More yours than mine.

I'm but a prompter at the best;
Crude cues are all I give.
In simple stanzas I suggest -
'Tis you who make them live.
My bit of rhyme is but a frame,
And if my lines you quote,
I think, although they bear my name,
'Tis you who wrote.

Yours is the beauty that you see
In any words I sing;
The magic and the melody
'Tis you, dear friend, who bring.
Yea, by the glory and the gleam,
The loveliness that lures
Your thought to starry heights of dream,
The poem's yours.
Kim Sep 2015
Art
Rap out a rhythm of hope,
Sing me a song of despair,
Write a book of confessions,
Let laughter ring through the air,
Show the world your pictures,
Give them a taste of your words,
Let them drift toward you,
Carrying their stories- pain and mirth

However long the wait,
Whichever path you take,
Whatever breaks your heart,
Whosever heart you break
Let it always bring forth art, expression and form,
The age old remedy for the suffering and forlorn,
     Some say an artist must struggle, and sing songs of their hurt,
I say each individual feels the need to be heard

  So let's sing out our stories,
And adorn our walls,
With paintings in tribute,
Bearing witness to all
There’s no right and no wrong
When you’re sketching a song,
Painting a poem, or dancing along!
Kim Sep 2015
There is a sense of timelessness in the twilight
Of time standing still and extending into the infinite
Of sadness and hope
Of yearning and satisfaction
Of unrest and peace
Where time has no meaning and
the mundane melts away into the symphony of colours in the sky..

..and your eyes follow the fading light and your soul knows its purpose once again..
Kim Sep 2015
Wandering the great abyss
Floundering in the dark
Searching the desert for an oasis,
Home fire warming the hearth

Floundering in the dark,
The lost, the fearful younger self
Home fire warming the hearth,
Faded picture on the shelf

The lost, the fearful younger self
Once vivid in imagination
Faded picture on the shelf
Juxtaposed jubilation

Once vivid in imagination
Looking back through sands of time
Juxtaposed jubilation
Travels back and forth the mind

Looking back through sands of time
Searching the desert for an oasis
Travels back and forth the mind
Wandering the great abyss
I've read a couple of really beautiful pantoums here..
this is my humble attempt at one :)
Kim Sep 2015
Ignorance is bliss they say
There are many who might agree
But I have a secret to share today
That once was shared with me

If you should ever chance to gaze into the eyes of the young and bold
You might discern a glowing light that neither flickers nor grows cold

What sustains this constant spark-
Night or day, light or dark?

Whence flows the river of joy and peace
That gushes forth through gentle souls?
What is the secret of peaceful sleep
Enjoyed by minds of simpler mould?

Tempting though it may be to attribute to lacking wit
The exuberance and ecstasy discarded with the training bit,
Wisdom urges a second glance
beyond the proverbial looking glass
In the hope one might contrive
to visit with the other side
A world of simple charms and grace,
far from this one’s treacherous maze

And so this deeper, delving look
Might relight that failing spark
While in the pages of a thousand books
One may languish in the dark!
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