posting poetic prose
03 Apr 2019 12 Comments
in cascade Tags: blood, breath, cross, death, firstborn, forsaken, son, tomb, wood
firstborn son cruelly beaten
pierced, hung on rough cross
dark blood trickles down wood
utterly forsaken by God
cries out in deep agony
firstborn son cruelly beaten
releases his final breath
pagan soldiers insure death
pierced, hung on rough cross
bruised body claimed, wrapped
gently laid in bare, stony tomb
dark blood trickles down wood
Requiem written in cascade form…linking with Amaya’s prompt at dVerse.
21 Jun 2018 9 Comments
in quadrille Tags: cycle, fragile, life, nest, parents, son, thrill, wheels
teen-age male on
testosterone
in search of new
thrills-on-wheels
dreams of motorcycle;
engine roar combines
with speed’s blur…
wind-in-face freedom.
middle-age parents
experience concern,
envision fragile-ness
of life-and-limb;
postpone possibility
until son leaves family nest…
Forty-four word quadrille for “cycle” prompt at dVerse Poets this week…
02 May 2018 3 Comments
in tanka Tags: architecture, building, design, home, landscape, son
Ramblings of a Writer tanka challenge: Home & Landscape
son draws in layers
architectural study
home design project
foundational beginning
building to blend in landscape
photo by lynn
30 Jan 2017 Leave a comment
in free verse, lament Tags: army, forest lawn, son, WWII
prime manhood pressed
slender, young and brave
army air force wwII battalion
brought down near new guinea
their one son and only child
lies still in forest lawn
My father’s cousin, Vernon, son of Ben & Hilda of Bellflower CA; whose name I discovered on a memorial wall in the Veteran’s Museum of Branson MO.
07 Nov 2016 4 Comments
in lament, shape poem Tags: breath, guitar, home, life, son, song
A poem of lament, in shape of candlestick, dedicated to family of Lukas Monsma
young voice sings to guitar
sweet, yet haunting
oh, my son, I can
hear your song
on the wind
memories
don’t leave us
alone in the dark
nearly pull us apart
by plucked heart strings
strumming addicted to grief
cold, thin, mountain air
stealing our breath
mingles yours
high in sky
i’m sorry for
what was unsaid
life hangs by a thread
as we still wait for you to
turn around and come home
…and sharing music by David Nevue, “Under a Cloud” and “The Long Regret”
a poem in my pocket 
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