I’ll tie them with ribbons

Copyright 2001
by Sue

The ink from my pen is
Spread in small tear drops
The words are unclear
To all but the spirits.

For I sit in silence
Quiet contemplation
The salt-I can taste it
Before it meets paper.

And you walked away, without
My understanding
With no explanation
Leaving sorrow behind.

So I write my questions
On these bits of paper
And tie them with ribbons
Appeasing the gods.

I rise from my desk
And take all my questions
My wishes, my prayers
In the palm of my hand.

And into my garden
Where I smell the fragrance
Of new leaves and grasses
I know that you love.

Eyes bathed in salt water
Are closed for one moment
Make celestial contact
Then return to this place.

I look to my hand
Then open my fingers
And let the wind take these-
My questions for you.

Don’t leave me heartbroken
To think I’m forsaken
My prayers, they rise up
As if on winds wings.

Dozens of pieces
Of ribbon-clad papers
Soar up to the heavens
I know I'll be heard.

Life's Snapshot

David M. DuBurk
Copyright Wednesday, August 15, 2001

I live
I love
I laugh
I cry

Emotions bubble forth
Caressing my essence
What's it really worth
Just a snapshot of my existence

I kiss
I caress
I dream
I grieve

They want me to rhyme
Poetic writing I try to do
In pain at the time
I may not do what you want me to

I arrive
I stay
I succeed
I fail

Time screams down the corridor
Moves faster than it used to
I always liked to go in the out door
Living just to antagonize you

We live
We love
We laugh
We die.

God's Rock Garden

I was taking a long walk, along a golden beach,
Looking out over the pristine lake, the glowing horizon just out of reach.
The waves lapping ever so gently, upon the dry sandy shore,
Swirling through the narrow channels, of diversified rocks galore.

O'er their smoothened bodies, their jagged shapes no longer showing.
These rocks being carefully molded and shaped, the translucent water flowing.
The rock garden so worldly vast, one needs to stop and behold,
Right in front of your very eyes, yet their stories have been left untold.
Seeing more than any, for they are undeniably older than most here,
Starting only from granules of nothingness, rolling along through the years.
Some still in their youth, of a few thousand endless miles,
Most holding prehistoric existences, cracking one open to see their files.

Sights that were meant to be, all along this gracious land,
One of my favorite things, is to pick them up in my hand.
So you need to stop and see, what is right there in front of you,
God's beautiful Rock Garden, what a magnificent view.

c.2001
~Jennifer R. Haegele

AMONGST THE STONES

Amongst the stones-
beneath the ebb and flow,
are tainted shards of life.

Slowly erroding, always changing-
forming a new shape and being,
one hopes with less strife.

Some shards smooth-
a past problem solved.
Others with blemishes,
to hard to be dissolved.

One pebble brittle-
if touched, it will crack.
Another so strong-
holding together, in times of attack.

My life is just that-
tiny pieces, literally smashed.
Yet the calm waters surface,
offers me a comforting mask.

Copyright 2001
11-23-01

Teresa M. Engelking

Lord and Wench

by albi
Copyright 2001

One day a prince fell asleep in a ginkgo tree.
When he awoke, what did he see?
A fair young maid inventing verse,
On the spot, with repetition her only chance to rehearse.

He listened to her syllabic meandering,
Which grew in subtlety of grace with each new rendering.
In the worlds she spun, he became lost.
When the plot thickened, his mind was tossed.

‘Til suddenly she ciphered the angle of the sun,
and turned and bolted into a run.
“Wait!” he called after the young wench.
“Please, come stay in my park! Won’t you sit upon my bench!”

She turned back to see who implored.
The blood drained from her face where normally stored.
Frozen tongued, she desired only to be hence.
She dove through the hidden hole in the fence.

The prince charged after her, he sought.
To the place she had crossed over, by his gaze, he was brought.
But in his panicked agitation,
He could only poke and paw the vegetation.

“I must find this silver tongued princess,”
He cried, “For surely she is the world’s best poetess!”
He summoned servants and minions by the score
To interview every lass in the kingdom and more.

Alas, she could not be found.
Many tried to be her, to imitate her sound,
But proved to be utterly false.
Nothing that they said raised the prince’s pulse.

His parents grew desperate and frantic.
So their efforts became extreme and gigantic.
They summoned writers from foreign kingdoms.
They offered prizes that grew to enormous sums.

The competitor’s rhyming astounded the courtiers.
Their emotion stirred tears, sobs, and murmurs.
But the prince remained rigidly dejected.
Each rival he disdainfully rejected.

Eventually, the frustration changed to despair.
The prince’s disappointment hung in the dank castle air.
His disposition grew lethargic and weak.
His appetite left till he was hollow of cheek.

Finally, he took to staying in bed,
Until he could no longer lift an arm or his head.
The doctors tried incantations and potions,
But nothing changed his expression or emotions.

Then the rumor flared across the land:
The last days of the prince were at hand.
The kingdom became quiet with desperate expectation,
From the hopes and fears of the whole nation.

The prince’s mother and father gathered along his left flank.
Their bones looked gaunt and lean of shank.
But their eyes shown with held back tears,
As they thought back to the dreamy wonderful years.

When they heard, outside, a singular commotion,
Of voices straining to retain strong emotion.
Next, appeared a large dog and an equal weight lass,
Followed by a sheepish servant ashamed he had let them pass.

The queen beckoned to the girl to come forward and speak,
But the bed was so high she stretched on her toes to peek.
When she saw his condition, she uttered a cry,
And immediately the prince opened one eye.

And ever so slowly his face stretched into a smile,
Though in his weakened state it took him awhile.
Then his lips they did tremble,
As his message he did assemble.

Save to the girl, his words were stark,
Dry and crackly, he said, “Join me in my park?”
The girl smiled, her relief shown broadly,
“Never, my lord,” she replied oddly.

His chest heaved as if to giggle,
And her whole body it did wiggle.
“What scared you so thoroughly of me, then?”
He inquired with the cackle of a parched hen.

“My uncle, you see,” she said with a sigh,
“Forbade me from your garden, else I should die.”
“So of course you couldn’t tell him!” surmised the prince,
“Then, to further escape, him you had to convince.”

“Aye,” agreed she, impressed with his wit,
“I sobbed that I was so homesick that this place I must quit.
So he sent me back home to my parents in the hills
Away from this village splendor and frills.”

“I cried all the way, though I knew it was best.
I knew I had failed the most obvious test.
And just to be sure that I’d never be caught,
I took a herd of cattle up high where I’d never be sought.”

There was a long silence in the room,
As the prince’s mind awoke from a tomb.
Said the prince:“But somehow you came here.
What made you overcome your fear.”

“She did!” She pointed at the dog slouched in a sit.
The quizzical smile of the canine sent the prince into a fit.
He laughed and laughed till his breath he did lose,
But his mind and his body he began to unconsciously use.

“Tell me more!” the prince demanded,
As a morsel from a tray to the dog he handed.
“She just started pulling me by the sleeve,
and without me that dog would not leave.”

“As long as I walked in your direction
she was a loving dog, my sweetest confection.
But if I just turned at right angle
my legs she would butt and entangle.”

“And when I drew among my hamlet
I heard that for you things were quite desperate.
So I hurried ever downward, like the streams,
And overcame my fears, even in my dreams.”

Now, to the adults these two appeared as boy and girl,
But in their eyes and hearts then love did unfurl.
To such two, silently linked with a love so strong,
Years of waiting did not seem too long.

So they did go to the garden, once the prince regained his power,
Though it was a day with a drizzly, continuous shower.
But to these two love birds the air was alive
With hope and promise to those who strive.

So they took turns inventing verse,
On the spot, with no chance to rehearse,
And laughed at their attempts to be wise
While always looking for a chance to insert a surprise!