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  Apr 07, 2017
Pax
Where does hierarchy begin?
    Is it where the strong is on top,
and the weak step upon?

Where does your dignity be placed?
   Is it where your always be the winner,
no matter what, even it has bitter taste.

Is SURVIVAL really that cruel?
That some of us are just a tool,
a fool for the strong to be cool.

No, it can't be that bad
yet reality is quite sad.

Despite our hard beginnings
Life still is beautiful
that losing isn't everything.

Dignity is placed -
where you respect yourself the most
and Hierarchy isn't important
to where your love is...


© Pax
yeH! a new poem, a longer one and it's been long i haven't rhyme like this. a bit hard when you have limited vocab, my apologies for its simplicity and many thanks for reading.
  Apr 06, 2017
Kelly Rose
She is moonbeams
And dappled sunlight
Renewal and
New beginnings
Gracing the land
With fragrant blossoms
Buzzing bees
And dandelion flurries
As children play
In Spring’s garden
Blowing happy bubbles
And laughter floats
Touching the heart and soul
She is Mistress of Spring

Kelly Rose
© April 1, 2017
  Apr 05, 2017
Paul Butters
They’ll be rockin’ in Heaven
Down St. Peter’s Gate Way.
Chuck Berry passed over,
But he still can play.

True King of Rock,
He’ll live for evermore.
And he’ll keep duck walking,
Along that golden shore.

His guitar keeps twanging,
Wah wah tlang tang tang.
Ya want a Showman?
Chuck’s still yer man.

He died at ninety.
It was very sad.
But now he’s up there,
I’m sure that God is glad.

He’ll love that Rock N Roll Music,
Chuck’s sense of humour too.
A touch of Devil also,
When he sings the blues.

So all you Saints and Angels,
You better move and hurry,
For they all want to dance with
That amazing Chuck Berry.

Paul Butters
For my greatest musical Hero. With echoes of "Sweet Little Sixteen"......
  Apr 04, 2017
harlon rivers
A sound was heard at my
garden door
A feathered smudge found upon it

There she lay in frightened
trembling dismay
   A giant knelt ...
yet still towering above her

He reached out and touched
her pounding heart
Then cupped her warmth
in his hand

She stayed awhile until
she could smile
At the kindly human mystery

This love they shared
is uncommonly rare
She knew she could be freed

Before she flew
she whispered a song she knew
into the gentle giant’s  beard :

“I cannot make you happy
You're a wounded Bird like me ―
be Free...
you must find the strength to Fly”…

"A Bird in your hand
  is worth two in the bush ―

   Come fly away with me"...



March 2012 © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
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Thank you so much for the special feature this simple heartfelt poem has been allowed.  It is based on actual events that happen often where habitat
meets civilization.  As humans we can mitigate this footprint left behind by lifting the weight of caring with actions that speck louder than words. Who among us has not needed a helping hand when we are struggling with the unexpected?  Moments we must find the strength to carry on with a little help from our friends?

   Find the strength to fly ―

Written March 1st, 2012
reposted from my original account
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