Me beneath the zenith's sun
The light she gave to Abbadon
Shadows genuflect and none
Could bear the dark's dissatisfaction
Beneath the zenith's sun
Is life in God's light bastion.
Catch the ball of LOVE and pass it on.
It will expand and becomes a home run.
inspired by chat with CJ Thanks
After thought..... soon to be expanded into a book called, Love Ball. (to be at a bookstore near you. :)
There was a little girl named Marjorie. She had pig tails and a beautiful smile that traveled making many smile. Marjorie danced as she moved along singing a happy tune.
One day she met an owl sobbing. He felt sad because he forgot how to fly. "You just forgot how beautiful you are so I will send you a ball of my love and all will be well." Marjorie echoed.
Putting her hands in a up she took a breath, collected the energies around her and threw him a ball. He caught it and instantly he began to fly off.
The owl felt grand that when he saw a little boy sad he made a ball of love with his intention and sent it off. It made the little boy very happy again. The boy felt so good when he saw anyone sad he too did the same. Before long the whole world was catching ***** of love. And thus... the world became a grand place where everyone recalled who they were and celebrated.
I bounce on the ground
I hear the crowds deafening sound.
Someone picks me up and drops me on their boot
Towards another man’s hands is my route
He takes me in his chest like a baby
And with his boot sets me free
I soar through the blinding light
I hear and see the crowd ignite
My bruises ****
But the crowd's joy makes me heal
I am hurt
But in the umpire’s hands, I am happy
It all starts again
My first one. Hope you like it. Go the swans
i like it when my vision fills with color
kaleidoscoping into hybrid hues
or when skinny fine lines
grow into weathered wrinkles
i like it when borders border on nonexistent
and everything blends together
i like it when lines grow bold
the strokes of a paintbrush gaining confidence
with every motion
i like it when lines are crossed
over and over
into a tangle of yarn
a ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff
i like it when lines are blurred
and reality breaks down
letting my imagination roam wildly
i like it when things don't make sense
because i always know
that i can find that line
that leads me back home
just a poem about lines, guys.
The wonders of the world are different, and they're different for us all.
We each have ideas, that make us unique, as with that we get our own ball.
***** are round for a reason, and that is so they will roll.
Keep balanced and roll, along your path, and remember, you can't always control.
Being different is a human trait, and with that, we have a choice.
Take that ball and roll it, and make sure you roll it, with your very own voice.
We try and try to understand, what makes each other tick.
I say we give up on that silly try and make harmony, really, really click!
Brian Hill - 2019- February
Inspired by numerous life conversations...
has the dawn overslept?
her shut windows remain unlit;
night still has a ball.
I go through a lot.
When I listen,
I can hear myself
I can hear screaming,
of delight or of anger.
I can hear
The amazing sound,
of the ball hitting the net.
Everyday, I watch kids,
dribble me up the field,
Aiming for a goal,
to lead their team to victory.