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David Hilburn May 16
Life of a sincere, limerick?
On the fare and done, duty?
Asking in certain hushes, is to wait, sick?
Tolls of an evening bell, with sunshine's lucre...

Has met a new friend...
Toward integrity, we keep a shrewd liberty
To know one and another, the best possible amends
That come to fruition like a walk and a stare, with curiosity?

Dread is a cold should's soldier, with a family to feed...
Found in a future hug, a witness to the honor; we pray...?
Persuasion in a tale spin, to linger and say, I thought taken heed...
True to one's roots, if not routes of composure, to ask all of any?

Seldom has said hello
Seldom has a savior's lip, for may and decency
Seldom has a sharing voice, that lets life bellow
Seldom has said goodbye, but when you step forward, it is beauty

Seldom is your, spy, whatever...?
Water and mercy for youth, is nothing but climbing
Cares to see the end of them, is a quieter house lover...
With timid moments to share, a promise on fire with minding...?
likewise I am sure, says the road to silence also. faeries save the world, won step at a time...
David Hilburn Jun 2022
Sense of a sulking
Light to favor the window
The rose of unity in passing
Has a question to its lips, the corners of woe?

Having a seat in such a chamber
Requited history to assume a table
Of friends of airs, the toil of another world
Once in love, twice a gifted artist, another time and a fable

See the heat I make, when sight has a call
To require adage, from the poise we know
To ends in a prophet's hands, the tale of all
And every fate of shall, the world have those?

A glass of wine...
And summation is a harrowing gone missing
The truth to be held, for an austere shine
As we see the composure of sin, sigh when is

Include me in the pout, the pout of sincerity
Where one more kindness, has a moment to consider
Serpents of long teeth, that savor the taste of need, visionary's?
And abated breath, the comment I make is meant, here...

Where art has a clue...
To vices charity, an instinct that also has chaste due
When the mirth, the homage, the drama of younger and older who
Is but a catch of light, on the silence we bare, is our promise to...
Mozart once said, "The music is not in the notes, but in the silence in between"
Sally A Bayan Jun 2019
>>>>                                    

                                       x
                                      x x
                                    x x x
                                 x x x x x                        
                      ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
   ­        ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;::::::::::::::::::::­:::::
Never can it move::::like thunder or lightning
it goes slow, but sure:::::treading its own path
brave, strong and patient:::in facing its ordeals
they don't want to sting:::unless when needed
they want to be left alone::::but, alert:::::::ready
to protect and defend itself:::::with less action
when trapped or driven up a dead end:::::it is
more composed::::::it knows when to explode
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::::::
::::a scorpion can quickly paralyze its victim:::
::::::::::::::::::::with its own venom:::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::it is said,::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
human beings have innate venoms or weapons
i don't know if i have one:::or what it could do
i only know, i can hardly harm anyone::::::::but
like any other creature:::::::i will defend myself
:::::::::::when my safety is compromised::::::::::
    :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
      :::::::::::::::::::: i am a scorpio ::::::::::::::::::::
          ::::::::::::::::what about you?:::::::::::::
               what could be your venom?
                 ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                    ­ :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                        :::­::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
                                x x x x x
                                    x x x
                                     x x
                                       x
                        



  Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
October 23, 2017
(just an old poem, guys...
just scribbling, while at the backyard, watching crawlers fighting)
Papeya Jan 2017
Those dark eyes
The intense gaze
The silence that speaks a thousand words
from fighting countless battles to conquering them
and living in the season that never ends
With dried sobs and bottled-up emotions
of pain,anger,hurt and frustrations
The heart broken in the woes of life
and smile buried down somewhere deep inside
Life is not a bed of roses
yet,it continues to be a path we cannot escape.

{PS:-The ordeals of life is unavoidable,but what makes one true conqueror is the indomitable spirit and never say die attitude,it makes all the difference}
Rachel Dyer Jan 2017
He loved the way she smelled,
and that she sprayed her perfume right before bed,
so that he could smell it as he drifted off.

He loved the way she gave him her sardonic playful scoff,
when he did something silly, because although she hated it,
she loved it so much she couldn't contain it.

He loved when she walked through history her fires were lit.
Because her passion always intrigued him,
it made perfect sense within her soul, making her eyes bright.

He loved the way she held him tight,
when she was scared, or happy, or hiding from the light.
Because she was so strong yet sometimes her heart she would bare.

He loved the way she ran her fingers through her hair,
and wiggled her waist when she was pleased.
She didn't even know she did it, she was just so at ease.

He loved the way she squeaked when she let out a sneeze,
such a fragile noise for a spirit that was so tough.
Such a contradiction his little, soiled dove.

He could not have been more in love,
with all of these things she does,
no matter what kind of ordeals....

Or at least...that is what she hopes he feels....

— The End —