#acuity - Hello Poetry

Wasn't, not was... The tale of entertained innocence Speak of the devil, is all of a heed, a buzz? Long times with a pretty eye, that took on the proverbial since... Honey, and a summary land... Sent to a rhyming breeze? obscure was a noble they Venting irony for a risen dance? welcoming mercy at hand Baring the shall's comment to a calling? secrets with prettier eyes, may... Talking with the burden; so adroit, of a banal instinct...? Has focused another's eye on the problems of home... Heavenly couth or the curse of happenstance Has welcomed us, not the spoil of demand, but a wish becoming some... Wealth, versus wisdom In the pity, we fight like aristocratic futures... Found like a stricken conversation let, to complete and win Salvation of a peace; is ours for question we made, to purity... But, where, is the fun in that... Save your hug first, for a rolling presence of sharing a loyalty Simple as pie, a black bird has spilled the beans, a royal isn't... That is the cough of dependency, for a soul with or without, simplicity? Good morning, angel How was the nights resolve, sleepy philosophy till the end? You awoke when a silence was early, the hour given to little... Loves and daring decency, of a waiting hope, to make your liberty a host to render...? The patience you show, and the embarrassment of should? A showing live of simpler sorts, with the count of shadows... Persistent little cease and desist, approval of a nary come would Without a friend for hap, from here to eternity with a spoken said: Wishes that play the part Wishes that compare final luck, to a promise that seems to keep Wishes that rued the irony of poise, into two parts of art Wishes that sake a divine course for the breath of a season's leap Of succinct chances and flowers that gave the wonder of solitude... Somewhere, the poignancy of a shared idea, if not the dragon that made you... Is a weary hindsight, that has sat on the laurels of worth, like a shoulder Your care for these, meant and lent with virtue, has juice to please?

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Jun 29, 2024

Jun 29, 2024 at 9:32 PM UTC

david-hilburn

Aunt's Misery, And Uncle's Kind Enough To Laugh?

Wasn't, not was... The tale of entertained innocence Speak of the devil, is all of a heed, a buzz? Long times with a pretty eye, that took on the proverbial since... Honey, and a summary land... Sent to a rhyming breeze? obscure was a noble they Venting irony for a risen dance? welcoming mercy at hand Baring the shall's comment to a calling? secrets with prettier eyes, may... Talking with the burden; so adroit, of a banal instinct...? Has focused another's eye on the problems of home... Heavenly couth or the curse of happenstance Has welcomed us, not the spoil of demand, but a wish becoming some... Wealth, versus wisdom In the pity, we fight like aristocratic futures... Found like a stricken conversation let, to complete and win Salvation of a peace; is ours for question we made, to purity... But, where, is the fun in that... Save your hug first, for a rolling presence of sharing a loyalty Simple as pie, a black bird has spilled the beans, a royal isn't... That is the cough of dependency, for a soul with or without, simplicity? Good morning, angel How was the nights resolve, sleepy philosophy till the end? You awoke when a silence was early, the hour given to little... Loves and daring decency, of a waiting hope, to make your liberty a host to render...? The patience you show, and the embarrassment of should? A showing live of simpler sorts, with the count of shadows... Persistent little cease and desist, approval of a nary come would Without a friend for hap, from here to eternity with a spoken said: Wishes that play the part Wishes that compare final luck, to a promise that seems to keep Wishes that rued the irony of poise, into two parts of art Wishes that sake a divine course for the breath of a season's leap Of succinct chances and flowers that gave the wonder of solitude... Somewhere, the poignancy of a shared idea, if not the dragon that made you... Is a weary hindsight, that has sat on the laurels of worth, like a shoulder Your care for these, meant and lent with virtue, has juice to please?

36

Reflections on the Loss of Vision by Michael R. Burch The sparrow that cries from the shelter of an ancient oak tree and the squirrels that dash in delight through the treetops as the first snow glistens and swirls, remind me so much of my childhood and how the world seemed to me then, that it seems if I tried and just closed my eyes, I could once again be nine or ten. The rabbits that hide in the bushes where the snowflakes collect as they fall, hunch there, I know, in the concealing snow, yet now I can't see them at all. For time slowly weakened my vision; while the patterns seem almost as clear, some things that I saw when I was a boy, are lost to me now in my advancing years. The chipmunk who seeks out his burrow and the geese now preparing to leave are there as they were, and yet they are not; and though it seems childish to grieve, who would condemn a blind man for bemoaning the vision he lost? Well, in a small way, through the passage of days, I have learned some of his loss. For, as a young boy I endeavored to see things most adults could not— the camouflaged nests of the hoot owls, the woodpecker’s favorite spots. But now I no longer can find them, nor understand how I once could, and it seems such a waste of those far-sighted days, to end up near blind in this wood. Keywords/Tags: reflections, loss, vision, childhood, eyesight, perceptiveness, acuity, age, aging, cataracts, blindness, days, years, decades, near-sighted, far-sighted What the Poet Sees by Michael R. Burch What the poet sees, he sees as a swimmer ~~~underwater~~~ watching the shoreline blur sees through his breath’s weightless bubbles ... Both worlds grow obscure. Published by ByLine, Mandrake Poetry Review, Poetically Speaking, E Mobius Pi, Underground Poets, Little Brown Poetry, Little Brown Poetry, Triplopia, Poetic Ponderings, Poem Kingdom, PW Review, Neovictorian/Cochlea, Muse Apprentice Guild, Mindful of Poetry, Poetry on Demand, Poet’s Haven, Famous Poets and Poems, and Bewildering Stories

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Apr 12, 2020

Apr 12, 2020 at 12:59 AM UTC

michael-r-burch

Reflections on the Loss of Vision

Reflections on the Loss of Vision by Michael R. Burch The sparrow that cries from the shelter of an ancient oak tree and the squirrels that dash in delight through the treetops as the first snow glistens and swirls, remind me so much of my childhood and how the world seemed to me then, that it seems if I tried and just closed my eyes, I could once again be nine or ten. The rabbits that hide in the bushes where the snowflakes collect as they fall, hunch there, I know, in the concealing snow, yet now I can't see them at all. For time slowly weakened my vision; while the patterns seem almost as clear, some things that I saw when I was a boy, are lost to me now in my advancing years. The chipmunk who seeks out his burrow and the geese now preparing to leave are there as they were, and yet they are not; and though it seems childish to grieve, who would condemn a blind man for bemoaning the vision he lost? Well, in a small way, through the passage of days, I have learned some of his loss. For, as a young boy I endeavored to see things most adults could not— the camouflaged nests of the hoot owls, the woodpecker’s favorite spots. But now I no longer can find them, nor understand how I once could, and it seems such a waste of those far-sighted days, to end up near blind in this wood. Keywords/Tags: reflections, loss, vision, childhood, eyesight, perceptiveness, acuity, age, aging, cataracts, blindness, days, years, decades, near-sighted, far-sighted What the Poet Sees by Michael R. Burch What the poet sees, he sees as a swimmer ~~~underwater~~~ watching the shoreline blur sees through his breath’s weightless bubbles ... Both worlds grow obscure. Published by ByLine, Mandrake Poetry Review, Poetically Speaking, E Mobius Pi, Underground Poets, Little Brown Poetry, Little Brown Poetry, Triplopia, Poetic Ponderings, Poem Kingdom, PW Review, Neovictorian/Cochlea, Muse Apprentice Guild, Mindful of Poetry, Poetry on Demand, Poet’s Haven, Famous Poets and Poems, and Bewildering Stories

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Who will talk now with common man gesture? Who will give message now about humour and giggle of life? Who will play the character now which can rejuvenate farmer’s dream? We miss you, In all occasion of acuity to animate! But we will carry your message of humour and giggle of life To invigorate and survive, Lead towards simplicity and acuity! Hope you will be there in golden paddy field, In the blue river, In green mountain To remind us About humour and simplicity of life!

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Mar 28, 2015

Mar 28, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC

jayanra-kr-sarma

Tributes to the Man live for humour and giggle

Who will talk now with common man gesture? Who will give message now about humour and giggle of life? Who will play the character now which can rejuvenate farmer’s dream? We miss you, In all occasion of acuity to animate! But we will carry your message of humour and giggle of life To invigorate and survive, Lead towards simplicity and acuity! Hope you will be there in golden paddy field, In the blue river, In green mountain To remind us About humour and simplicity of life!

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