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Mark Toney Nov 2019
Here lies the body of Nick O Tyme
Who never thought of crossing the line
Lived his life as quiet as could be
Only stimulant consumed was tea
Saved a lady from the path of a train
Regarding which he was true to his name
Results for him were not quite the same
11/14/2019 - Poetry form: Epitaph - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
Mark Toney Oct 2019
Picture a man’s solitary stroll on a sandy seaside,
Early time of day, just a short time after low tide,
Water almost calm, gentle waves lapping the shore,
Early morning sun brilliantly blazing the horizon.
Feel the wonderful breeze…smell the salty ocean air…  
See, hear the jaegers, gulls and terns flying without a care.

The soothing sounds of the wind, water and gulls
Are suddenly intruded upon by the sad cries of a small child.  
"What's wrong?" the man kindly asks, as he kneels next to her.
"Someone knocked down my sandcastle," is her reply, tears flowing.
"Don't worry little one, I'll help you build another."
To the little girl's delight, the man smooths away the sand,
In preparation for a newer, bigger, better sandcastle.

Soon his concentration is broken by frantic cries for help.  
Looking out over the water, he sees a tiny figure,
Desperately clinging to one of the buoys marking the deep-water.
Running to the water’s edge, he clearly sees another little girl,
Close in age to the first, whose swimming has carried her too far,  
And now she perilously clings to the buoy, unable to swim back.

The man returns to the first girl
And continues to build the sandcastle.
"The girl in the water is safe for now", he assures himself.
"As long as I can hear her cries for help,
I know her head is above water.
Besides, this other little girl's problem came first.
As soon as I am done with her sandcastle,
I will most certainly rescue the other one..."

And so, the man does build the sandcastle,
One more magnificent than the first.  
All the while he builds, he continues to hear
The desperate cries from the second little girl.  
By sandcastle’s finish, her cries have become weaker, less frequent.
"Are you happy now?" he asks the first little girl.
"Oh yes," she cries, "thank you sir...."
As she joyfully dances around her new sandcastle.

With that, the man springs into action,
Just as she slips off the buoy and goes under.  
He reaches her in record time with all the strength he can muster,
Expertly positioning her on her back with her face above water.
Wasting no time or effort he makes his way back to shore,
As more and more people gather to cheer on the savior.  
He gives CPR - after several coughs, water clears lungs, a life is not lost.
As if on cue, the rescue team arrives, transporting her to hospital.
Extremely grateful parents and the city honor him as a hero.

So what say you?  Is such a man deserving of honor?
How would the parents react If they knew the rest of the story?
Especially since he was the lifeguard assigned to beach patrol!

Now, friends, after considering all of this fuss,
The question bears asking, what about us?
Are we making sure of more important things,
Or are we busy building castles in the sand?
5/23/2018 - Poetry form: Narrative - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
OpenWorldView Jul 2019
painful memories
encased in a troubled heart
waiting for rescue
In need for a friend.
Myemail May 2019
In the darkness waiting
Time lingering on
Painful changes making
Bright-eyed sparkle gone
The crease of light is taunting
Restrained and alone
It only leaves me wanting.
Till light around me shone
Cocoon illuminating
Glow of amber tone
As if the shadow hating
Warmed tired weary bones
I stretched there in the morning
A new day had come
Then greeted me beckoning
Two arms I called home
The embrace now seems fleeting
Yet leaned i hard thereon
blackbiird Mar 2019

I held a candle to my demons
for so long.
But he distinguished them with the
whisper of His voice.

Baylee Kaye Mar 2019
all I feel is alone
dark is the only thing crashing through
I want to be found
I need someone to carry me
because I am all alone
someone please rescue me
Gemma Jan 2019
You’ve come to my rescue many a time.

But not in the way you might think.

Yes, you do help me in the typical way.

Pulling me up before I sink.

But it’s all the small things you do for me.

The accidental things, that only I see.

That really mean the most to me.

Kind gestures with no intent or agenda.

It’s just who you are, my defender.

You see, the sweet things that you do and say.

They rescue me every day.
Baylee Kaye Jan 2019
his love stretch’d down from heaven above
with my peace derived from his affection
once astray now brought to life
lost in an untamed sea, but
o, what joy - o, what joy
he found me
d.c.
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