Quandam poems on Hello Poetry

Jesse Revollar Jul 2018

Dear, Arabia Ohana,

This brief but edenic stint shared en masse and peripherally has, a fortiori, made me brimfully ecstatic to have become apart of this ohana. This parcel is to impart my incredulously revered kismeted perspective on this pleasant billet symbiosis that I accredit to the deific clairvoyant who fondly granted our correspondence with utmost prudence. I cannot convince myself some lackadaisical serendipity materialized this perfectly pertinent vista. With profound sentiment I personally express how this considerably blessed boon has merited profuse gratitude, absolute admiration and the reverent affection from my entire family as of quandam, contempto and nigh.

With genuine gratitudinous laud

Jesse Revollar

I moved in as a live in care giver for this family's mother here in hawaii. The employers were the daughters and I finally got to meet them and spend some quality time around our island. I was rasied in a more dysfunctional setting and never had such family hollidays so i wrote this letter to say thank you on behalf of everyone that han do and will love me since they're helping me go through school so my future and my past appreciates this new life they've afforded me. This change in my life has required a step that askes me to have faith in a greater power. I metioned that our correspondence
must of had this hand in play because finding this position has helped me in more ways than financially and came with nearly no effort on ny part but it definitely wasnt dumb luck.

#appreciation

Alan S Jeeves Jun 2021

The Baby Boomers Of Paradise

Those were the days my friend, how blessed we were
Although, in past quandam days, knew it not.
Home to us was warm and dry, sound and safe.

Not called on to fight, we had years to play,
Free of conscripted combat ~ with time to ****;
Time to learn, time to listen, time to speak.

Clothes were brightly colourful and charming,
Hair long and flowing ~ blowin' in the wind.
Money no object ~ or so it would seem.

The world appeared to be as a fairground,
A hall of mirrors in which to reflect;
The tunnel of love was always with us.

We played our music and we rocked-'n'-rolled
Our hearts evoked by transistors not sense;
Twisting the night away, far away, lost.

We thought those days, my friend, would never end,
Timeless days of golden spring and summer.
There were no clouds to keep secret the skies.

Yet time moves on and takes its undue toll.
Some of us are carried off with the tide,
Others remain stranded on the surf's shore.

"How lucky to be here!" I often muse
For now I know a generation raised
Was never conceived to grow up at all.

— The End —