Poetry

Vanilla-Jackie · November 16, 2019, 03:33:07 PM

Marilyne...
...as you know i have MS, this was in our MS Societies magazine that got posted to me..

Vanilla-Jackie · November 23, 2019, 10:10:10 AM

Be thou a bright flame before me,
Be thou a guiding star above me,
Be thou a smooth path below me,
Be thou a kindly shepherd behind me,
Today - tonight - and for ever

~ Columba (?521-597) Irish monk and missionary in Scotland

Vanilla-Jackie · August 30, 2021, 03:23:24 AM

Wendell Berry reads a Poem of Hope..

Vanilla-Jackie · October 01, 2021, 07:09:56 AM

Excerpt from Author Andy Seed...Poems For Pensioners..

We swam in rivers,
Fell out of trees,
Jumped off the bus,
And skinned our knees.

We hid in the woods,
Fished in lakes,
Raced on bikes,
With dodgy brakes.

We played near ponds,
On building sites;
Crossed busy roads,
Flew our own kites.

Throwing snowballs,
For winter frills;
Sliding on ice,
Sledging down the hills.

Building tree houses,
Dens with sticks,
Making go karts,
Learning tricks.

With catapults, penknives,
Arrows and bows;
Stings and splinters,
Bloodied nose.

Armed with stink bombs,
Or itching powder;
Jumping Jacks
Or something louder.

We ate cakes and cream
And toffee and jam,
Pilfered apples
And tins of spam.

We drank from glass bottles,
Had lead-paint toys;
And were whacked by teachers
When naughty boys.

There were no bike helmets,
No childproof lids;
No mobile phones,
Just happy kids.

Author and copy rite of Andy Seed from All Teachers Great and Small..

Vanilla-Jackie · November 11, 2021, 12:43:38 PM

Rouge Bouquet
by Joyce Kilmer

In a wood they call Rouge Bouquet
There is a new-made grave today,
Built by never a spade nor pick
Yet covered with earth 10 meters thick.
There lie many fighting men,
Dead in their youthful prime,
Never to laugh nor love again
Nor taste the Summertime.
For Death came flying through the air
And stopped his flight at the dugout stair,
Touched his prey and left them there,
Clay to clay.
He hid their bodies stealthily
In the soil of the land they fought to free
And fled away.
Now over the grave abrupt and clear
Three volleys ring;
And perhaps their brave young spirits hear
The bugles sing:
" Go to sleep!
Go to sleep!
Slumber well where the shell screamed and fell.
Let your rifles rest on the muddy floor,
You will not need them any more.
Danger's past;
Now at last,
Go to sleep!"

*******************************************

( On the 11th hour - the 11th day - the 11th month )

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