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HAPPY ST.GEORGE’S DAY FROM POETREECREATIONS

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St George Was A Very Brave Guy

 

st g

St George was a very brave guy

As he set out to slay the dragon

He set out on his trusty steed

With all his weapons pack on his wagon

 

He hunted high and low to find the dragon

He travelled far and wide

He decided to set up camp and rest

Placed his head in his hands and cried

 

Then in the distance he heard a mighty roar

With fire and smoke he could see

He decided to wait until morning

Snuggled down to sleep under a tree

 

As the sun arose in the morning

He mounted his trusty steed

For he was in a great hurry

As he galloped of at a very fast pace

 

He finally came face to face with the dragon

Who was snorting out fire and smoke?

He looked at St George and sniggered

For the dragon thought it was a big joke

 

A battle ensued between both of them

A furious fight took place

In the end St George was the victor

But the dragon died with a smile on his face

cartoon_dragon (1) 

Malcolm G Bradshaw

St George and Smokey Joe

St George he had a dragon

 

He called him Smoky Joe

 

He used to cough and splutter

 

And blows smoke wherever he would go.

 

One day he drank some water

 

And steam came out his ears

 

This made old Smoky wither

 

And brought poor George to tears ,

 

But George still pretended he had slain all the dragon’s

 

But did he slay them all ?

 

They say there are some in England,

 

With lot’s of spiky scales

 

But the myth is that they live somewhere

 

But maybe somewhere in South Wales.

 

By Thomas Sims


HAPPY MOTHERS DAY

Mother

mum15

 

A sweet enchanting smile

Warm and tender charms

The things I remember

While safe in mother’s arms

 

Protected from all troubles

Comforted when in pain

Kissed gently on the cheek

To make all better again

 

Guided through my infant life

Of things I should not do

Taught me right from wrong

And shown things old and new

 

I want to thank you mother

I cherished all the years

Even when I was punished

And cried so many tears

 

And now that I am older

My love for you is strong

Although you are no longer with me

To the Spirit world you have gone

 

I know you will always be near me

For your love will never die

At times when I need you

I will always feel you nigh

 

I should like to say thank you

For all that you have done

For I will always cherish you

From your grateful Son.
 
Malcolm Bradshaw

Lovely Memories

baking day 

Beautiful fragrances and
Aromas linger and last
Stay in the mind from times long past,
The smallest thing awakens
Them to be recalled
Passing a bakery a child once more,
Aroused by the warm smell
Drifting through the door,
Mothers baking day
varieties of cakes galore
In a queue a fragrance
A delicate sweet smell,
Triggers your nose your senses
There’s your lovely granny with
Her glass bottle of cream,
Rubbing it into her hands
Easing hard work they had seen
Still a wonderful reflection
Of past presents itself
Yet again so real,
The most precious aroma
I forever bring to mind
Is the first time bathing my baby
Such a wonderful fresh smell,
New life clean glowing
Not long from the womb
A memory to last enjoy for my baby,
Will soon grow from this sweet
Smelling bundle, then away
From me far too soon

Sandra Cameron

CALLING ALL POETS – PROMOTE YOURSELF AND DANCE ON OUR STAGE

poetry mmmmmmmmmmmmm

 

 

LET YOUR POEM MINGLE WITH OTHERS

LET YOUR POEM:

DANCE ON OUR STAGE

ANY LENGTH, ANY SUBJECT, ANY TIME

SEND YOUR WRITTEN WORK TO:gillianandthomas@yahoo.com

WE WILL GLADLY POST IT HERE FOR ALL TO SEE ON OUR POETRY PLATFORM!

AlLWAYS REMEMBER

Poems you sent to us about this picture, taken in our garden

DCIM100MEDIA

Here is my submission for the current picture of the Bird and the Snow

Copyright image taken by  Poetree Creations

All for Her

“It was all for her” the swallow said
As it swelled its breast with pride
Watching the man with black umbrella
Walk from side to side

“It was all for her” The man softly spoke
As he considered all he had
And kept his feet to shuffle between
The snows pile up ahead.

“It was all for her” The snow declared
As it whittled down its stock
Becoming just another pile
Of water among the rocks
 
“It was all for her” the rocks declared
As they mark the borders by
And so the sun may glisten upon
Their bumped backs, soft and dry

“It was all for me” the sun affirmed
As she raised her gentle head
And watched the people praise her warmth
Wishing for Summers heat  instead.

 

I am Philisapherhttp://lisainger.com/

Here is my submission for the current picture of the Bird and the Snow

robin
…and if this
       little bird
                               could share of what it’s
                                               mind conceives, would I even
                                               understand how simple life
                                                can be …
 
 
thanks for the opportunity.   Lita
 
 
   EstreLita Pondoc
How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours.
~ Wayne Dyer

I’ve composed a poem for your contest with the chickadee in the snow picture.  

And then there was one…And so, here I am, upon the winter of my joie de vivre,
where once were perched two friendly birds; now rests thus only one.
A wooden cage erected hence, that I can never leave,
the snow the only thing that will remember when I’m done.
 
I cannot see the outside world as I once knew I could —
I gaze through disconnected visage, staring at the cold.
The bitter chill assaults me, and I’m left from what is good;
My breath hangs in the air, and with each second, I grow old.
 
The greens are grey around me; all the flowers?  Gone to sleep.
A broken tree breaks through the white of everpresent ice;
all around the wooden husk, the ivy starts to creep
and strangle out its life and each last wisely sage advice.
 
The earth’s adorned in frosted dew just as a christening gown.
There’s empty footprints in the snow aside my freezing feet,
At last I feel the slumber, and I lay my body down,
at the winter of my life, so maybe now, I’ll feel complete.
Brad Bricktower

Falling

I am lost, I am falling, I am now living in a world with no sleep; The night has become an ocean and I am drowning in the deep

..

The moon has become my sun,  The stars bring light to my sky; Staring at a ceiling unable to sleep, no matter how hard I try

..

I am living in a silent world full of artificial light; Words fall from this pen, as pages are filled with these darks verses that I write

..

My eye lids are feeling heavy now, But are my eyes already closed? Or is this just a longer blink; My mattress is turning into quicksand, As I slowly begin to sink

..

Soft whispers start to tumble and fall down,  I wonder am I asleep or am I still awake; Maybe this is all a daydream, and I am laying here just waiting for yet another dawn to break

..

As I fall deeper I feel my body lifting up high, as soft voices whisper they have heard me calling; But just as the sun begins to rise I wake up screaming as I feel my body falling.

 ..

BARRY MOWLES ©2012

Retirement Rendezvous

old man

Retirement rendezvous
There is a member who is new
Who requires some type of rescue! 
Looking back at life’s preview

He has had his kids
Been wise and stupid
Smoked enough weed
Aging exhibits on both eyelids

Retirement rendezvous
No more young dreams to pursue

A time he was young with hope
Goals matured and developed
But time took away that potential scope

Retirement rendezvous
Old age has at last struck for true

Retirement rendezvous
Today he joins the old pensioners’ crew

Stuck in his fresh basement
He scorns retirement at its commencement 
With continuous utter resentment 
Thinking it is a washed up experiment

Retirement rendezvous
Today, old age seems to be of no value

Retirement rendezvous
A new life and a new official venue

Retirement rendezvous
Some meet at the post office queue
Others meet at the bookies avenue
Leaving only when the night is due

The alarm clock has ceased ringing
The ladies have stopped singing
The bread winner is no longer bringing
To him nothing anymore is inspiring! 

Retirement rendezvous
Why is life such a screw? 

Retirement rendezvous
Is this a new life for true? 

Retirement rendezvous
His thoughts he has to subdue
For him life still continues
Forthwith he looks at life with a new view! 

(2007) 

Sylvia Chidi

Tell Me!

tell me

Why some people do not ponder
Before acting or uttering words of wonder?
Is it out of denseness or narrowness?
Or maybe due to immaturity or impulsiveness?
Or just to vex or show rudeness?
Are they aware of the repercussions
Of their irresponsible actions
and verbal aggression?
Shall we resort to avoidance
Or wear a costume of patience?

© Chaouki Mkaddem

four Limericks by Mark Sherriff – Promote Yourself

LIMERICKS

WORDS

I think I will write up some words,
I’m scared that you’ll find them absurd,
I’ll give it a go,
‘Cause you never know,
Ideas take flight just like birds.

MANNERS

My parents taught me right from wrong,
I’m glad that it did not take long,
If they hadn’t done that,
Then I’d be a spoilt brat,
Though I think I’ve been one all along.

FRIENDS

It’s time for us friends to part ways,
We’ve come to the end of our days,
But let’s not say goodbye,
‘Cause that will make me cry,
We’ll go and leave nothing to say.

START ANEW

Look now into fire’s amber hue,
Let your eyes be stuck as by glue,
Remember the past times,
Absolved now of your crimes,
A man who can now start anew.
Mark Sherriff

My Treasure to You

fathersxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Oh!! My child!! I will soon be dead
Leaving you without any crown on the head
Only these few words that you should regard
They are more precious than an emerald
Listen carefully and contemplate every word

You have got a long life ahead
I want you to learn how to have it in hand
It won’t give you what you have pled
Unless you have a good head
And follow what I said

I really want you to understand
Life is not as easy as people pretend
It’s not heaven and neither a feather bed.
Your route is full of prickles that you should forefend
Elbow your way to reach your end

Stroll the ground to earn your bread
Make the acquaintance of all kinds of people even the bad
Be clever and on them never depend
Learn things implicitly without any demand
Take the virtue and leave the fault behind

Neither selfishness nor greed can make you glad
Be to all kinds of human race a friend
Smile at their faces even those who drive you mad
Be in harmony with whatever lives on your land
Always remember that you cannot applaud with one hand

Stand upright and keep your dignity and pride
Be the master of your destiny and never show dependence of any kind
Nothing is more valuable than what you can do for humankind
Persevere to make human life docile and no longer wild
Only your deeds can engrave your name in people’s mind

© Chaouki Mkaddem, 2010

Where Do Babies Come From?

where_do_babies_come_from_by_hotamr-d4m0a0y

Where did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the everywhere into here.

Where did you get your eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
Some of the starry spikes left in.

Where did you get that little tear?
I found it waiting when I got here.

What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
A soft hand stroked it as I went by.

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
I saw something better than anyone knows.

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.

Where did you get this pearly ear?
God spoke, and it came out to hear.

Where did you get those arms and hands?
Love made itself into hooks and bands.

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as the cherubs’ wings.

How did they all just come to be you?
God thought about me, and so I grew.

But how did you come to us, you dear?
God thought about you, and so I am here

~George MacDonald

WICKED – Promote Yourself

 baxter106
A wicked gale, 1841,
Took all souls, both old and young.
Among the shipwrecks off the Cape,
No sadder story leaves mouths agape.
Seven ships were swept like splintered trees as
Sailors fought the rising seas.
Fifty-seven lads left that cursed day,
From Truro Harbor through Cape Cod Bay.
With farewells to families and prayers of thanks,
To fish for cod along George’s Banks.
Headed nor ‘east at full sail,
The hopefuls met that dreaded gale.
Soundings dropped as winds blew wild,
And fear spread from man to child.
For closer their vessels approached the shoals,
Which cut their hulls with ripping rolls,
Nature took victims without remorse,
And most were lost who’d set the course.
Legend has it that on autumn nights,
Amidst Truro’s moors, below the heights,
Ghosts of sailors mourn their ghastly plight,
With frightful wails across the night.
So if you dare to brace that wicked wind,
You may hear cries of those doomed kin,
Brothers of the sea who dared to go,
Where others still venture and fight the foe.
Wendy Shreve
(In honor of All Hallows’ Eve and those spirits who are still with us)
NOTE: This poem is based in part on real events off Truro, MA in 1841 (Source: Provincetown Banner, June 28, 2009). The legend is fiction.

Might Listen

 

 BriefEncounter

I go to your school

Yea, I’m that guy

The one you know

But choose to

Ignore

I mean,

Granted you’re busy

Too ah, caught up

In trying to get along

To achieve

To feel that sense

Of what is the word-

Entitlement …

No, I’m sorry

I didn’t mean that

Well, yes I did

You see

I see you everyday

But well,

And

I know

You see me

Paths cross

Moments define

The brush of a shoulder

Heading to class

And just that brief encounter

Thus far defines who you are to me

Who I am to you

Who might sea …

I walk past you

How our lives interact

In the eyes of our community

See?

Our worlds are labeled as different

Suggested the ‘Man’ to everyone

Thom Amundsen 2013

REQUIEM TO A SAD POETESS


 
The many words she has inscribed upon the page
Reveal the unhappiness and anguish she has known
That she has suffered throughout her life can be seen
For in so many ways she has often felt alone
 
In her simple words she tries to show
Why it is difficult for her to understand
How life could deal her such cruel blows
Why fate had dealt her a losing hand
 
And so she picks up her pen to write
For she wants all the world to know
That unhappiness has marred her life
In the same way that the weather is blighted by the winter snow
 
But life is very much like seasons
The winter snow melts and spring eventually comes again
The sunshine will break through the clouded skies
And happiness will take the place of pain
 
And so she now faces life with hopes renewed
Knowing here are opportunities that she can take
Opportunities which will give her much satisfaction
And that failing to take them would be a terrible mistake
 
We can now see that her happiness is returning
But its completion may take a little while
The visions of joy which the future holds
Can now be seen in her winsome smile 
By Ron Martin
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