Laughter

Dancing round the tree

You laugh so freely

For all souls to see

What you bring to me

In earth, sky, and sea

Forever to be

Declared not guilty

To be at liberty

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Speckles of Freckles

Speckles of freckles splashed across your face

With dancing eyes lancing all who look in joy

At the prancing spirit welling up from inside

Of an open heart occupied by love amplified

By heaven with leavening grace in sure place

Of everything that should be right by the light

Of an immortal youth never fading or abating

Place Love Above All: An Abhanga

Placing love above all
In the heart of a child
So very free and wild
To kiss sweet cheek

New song sung for the young
Who’ve just begun to dance
With cosmic happenstance
On world’s bright stage

Now comes the vision free
Of brighter tomorrow
With what God will bestow
In liberty

 


Note: The abhanga, an Indian form of poetry, means “the completion” and is a stanzaic form commonly used for devotional poetic composition although it has also been used for cynicism, satire and reflective moods. It was popular from the 13th thru 17th centuries Marathi Region of India and is described as complex and classic.
The Abhanga is:
  • stanzaic, written in any number of quatrains (4 line stanzas).
  • syllabic, 6/6/6/4 syllables each
  • L2 and L3 rhyme. Often internal rhyme is employed. End rhyme scheme x a a x , x being unrhymed.

The All-Alone Prince

One boy stands in the grand kingdom hall with ball in hand,
But no one with whom to play as yet another day slips away,
And it might as well be made of sand, this castle unmanned;
But in the distance he could hear the brilliance of happiness
Across the land as citizens played in cascade of joy unafraid,
And so he looked around, thought and tried to make sense…
This one lonely boy, this all-alone prince

He struggles to recall when he had last heard another footfall
Even very sedately in this stately mansion with no companion
Upon whose breast to lay his weary head, no chest with heart,
But only stone statues to mock with bone crushing vacant eyes
And lies of life never to come into his cold, stone castle home,
Yet he could almost see on the breeze sweet-smelling incense,
This one lonely boy, this all-alone prince

He ventures into formal dinning hall lined with tall windows,
Solid oak table set with fine china, crystal for wine so divine,
But no feast as yet blesses the board for this very young lord,
Whose peaceful people eat well from their own storage cells,
And of their dinner he caught whiff as he grew ever thinner,
And gold he’d have sold for a friend but he had not a pence…
This one lonely boy, this all-alone prince

One lonely boy lies down to die beneath silver silken sheets,
To listen to the slowing beats of heart, to play a better part
In realms much higher where the fire of life is ever burning,
No spirit churning for love, caught in despair, peace sought
But never brought into the soul seeking soothing serenity,
To this grandest destiny his greatest journey to commence,
This one lonely boy, this all-alone prince

Promise of the Yawn of New Dawn

I look high up into the night sky to stars and moon above,

And try to imagine all of life gone by,

But the promise of dawning just yawning on far horizon

Turns my heart to enliven my soul…

Not too many years have passed to leave me harassed

By febrility, confining me to senility,

So there is hope beyond the scope of such time gone by,

Forming an allotrope to coming days

That will surely lead me in different ways than ere before

In an adventure for me now in store!

Boy

Take me back for lack of life now as I bow to youth gone by,

And let me fly up so high to build another empire in the sky;

To wrestle rough with vampires while I sound the battle cry;

To climb daunting trees taunting and haunting my dreams;

To play again on cheery days, or ones dreary and even eerie;

To camp under moonlit night looking for a bright meteorite;

To rush against the hounds of hell, amid the sounds of war;

To give imagination free reign in the vein of strong fantasy,

Where I belong to once more sing the song I so long to sing,

If only youth would wing its way to me to be again … a boy

Boy

Priests and the Cry of Innocence

With all their might they pushed crimes out of sight
And chose to fight the light back into the darkness,
Leaving the carcass of truth in the starkest of graves,
But who will save them from the waves of justice,
Which finally come from cries of innocence violated
And annihilated for the satisfaction of perversity
That so harmfully cast itself upon those weakest
And meekest within the very Household of God?
Surely damnation will come to such beastly priests,
And angels will rock the foundation of all creation