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 Sep 2016
Marian
In ancient meadow yonder
She frolics with butterflies
Wearing a halo of wildflowers
*~Marian~
Written: August 25, 2016.
Dedicated to my three favorite poets:
My mom, Hilda, and my Dad, Timothy,
And also to my dear friend, Lena S!!! :) ~~~~~<3
After a long hiatus, I have returned!!!
Hopefully I can write more poetry soon!! :)
 Sep 2016
phil roberts
Just in the pubs and clubs
******* our own gear around
Seemingly, always upstairs
For weddings and birthday parties
Sorting out miles of wires
Well-worked practise

But when those amps were turned on
With an audible amplified thud
As switches are flicked
And their lights gaze like tiny red eyes
That's when I am ready

First number and the drums and bass
Connect to create new heartbeats
And now I'm into it
Not the man in the mill anymore
I'm the frontman for the band
And the music soars through me

As the night goes on and grows
The crowd has grown and is dancing
Gaining energy from the music
And feeding it back to us in turn
Now THIS is being alive

And so it was

                                 By Phil Roberts
I never fell off a good bass riff but I fell off stage once or twice :)
 Sep 2016
Joel M Frye
The power of music
and friendship
heals dead connections;
a well-meaning member
of a jam session
offers me a guitar.
I politely decline,
embarrassed by my disability,
and they shrug.  Your choice.
The familiar curves
beneath my arm
like a woman
from my past,
my amnesiac left hand
reaches for the
muscle memory
of fifty years' practice.
After an agonizing minute,
the G chord miraculously plays,
as I played it at five,
the three big fingers alone
strong enough to hold it.
The switch to C impossible;
so I play a variation.
Doesn't sound bad with the group.
My God, I might play a D7
by the next time it comes around
in the song.
The gang is playing old standards,
Ohio State music;
three chords and a cloud of dust,
which suits my present skill(?) well.
I almost cried when a few tunes later,
we sang A Horse With No Name
to my accompaniment.

Beethoven was deaf, yet heard the Ode To Joy.
Hawking is paralyzed, and travels the universe.
I have three good fingers,
and no good excuses.
 Sep 2016
SE Reimer
a tribute

~

memories...
in fading sepia we find,
the romance of
another time;
albums filled
with black and white,
of glossy faces
burnt in fading light;
boxes of our ko-dak-chro-ments,
gone-by treasures,
once-upon-a-moments;
wistful years once crystal clear,
mem’ries drowned in haze,
resurface now,
renewed in tears,
...as we remember well.

memories...
the yellow ribbons tied,
’round an ol’ oak tree;
anxious waiting to make an “us”,
the anticipation of a “he and me”;
until the news from distant shore,
yet another casualty of war,
and now remains but this,
a marble slab inscribed,
in accolades of former glory,
merely remnants ’midst the pines;
on forest lawn where promises,
tween two for’er became untwined,
...as she remembers well.

memories...
so many are the ways
the mem’ry onward lives
even this, a,
“do this in...” request
restores a covenant anew
a "remembrance of..."
the “we” here left behind,
be it in the bread we break,
this forever to remind,
a sacrosanct entreaty made,
promise sealed as blood in wine,
reserving not for deities alone,
but given us immortal souls,
to us a gift at birth,
of staggering import,
responsibility of heavy worth;
of after-ashes keeping still,
an ever-after captured with
the shutter, brush and quill,
...so we remember well.

memories...
its keeping cherished lovingly
though its loss,
its diminishment bereaved;
as lovers silent grieve,
those lost to us yet breathe,
in memories ’midst the breeze.
forgetful of the slightest
until one day in finality
their mortal soul is set free
into immortality.
...to for’er remember.

memories...
to us, a call, a charge,
a “ne’er forget”
a duty large
a “do this in
remembrance of”
this our promise
to e’er remember,
always keep;
forgetting never,
to carry the flame,
while we yet live
in sunshine’s grip;
an oath is sworn,
that forever we,
shall always ready be,
for in remembering best,
the tears flow easily,
and so it isn't pity,
of a loss i seek,
no,
for ’tis in finding memory
that i shall always weep,
...as i remember well.

~

post script.

of love lost in the haze of war; of lives changing motion, a baby is born, as a grandmother moves into memory care... a cycle of life, brought full circle best in remembrance.  and this makes remembering perhaps the most important facet that defines, sets us apart as humans, best captured in this thought, "in forgetting the past we cease to be and bring hope forward for the future. and so we remember... for we must never forget!” and so we line our shelves, our walls with them, visiting inscribed stones behind fences.  

dedicated today to our memories each of loved ones, lovers lost; but on this dark eve, especially those who lost those souls, three thousand strong, a darkest day of remembrance, this September the eleventh, who never got to say goodbye... so we remember well!
 Sep 2016
Little Bear
if only we would love  
with our eyes
closed
and our hearts
open

we would not see
the outer shell

we would simply
fall in love with
the soul
the spirit
the heart
before us

for the rest
eventually falls away
Thank you all so so very much for all of the wonderful comments and kind words. I am so very grateful. I woke this morning to so many emails.. i actually thought my Mum had finally managed to use the email account i had set up for her and had sent me some messages :o)
but no .. haha bless her heart.. :o)

So.... again.. thank you thank you all forever, for all the hearts and all the love..
i feel it ***
 Sep 2016
Melissa S
Dented and newly used
my heart is set on cruise
Winning
Grinning
Never gonna give up
because I refuse

My heart may be breaking
but it is not the end
Dealer count me back in
I am on the mend
I am on a comeback

I am done being afraid
I am done being saved
Do not need another setback
I am on a comeback

I believe in who I am
I'm better than I have been
I am not down and out
I have only just began


Thank you HP and fellow poets for this great honor!!! Sorry I am so late to the party but my 8 yr old boy hijacked my phone from me.
Dedicated to some HP poets out there who have recently made a comeback.  Also when writing this I had another thought we have all had our heart broke (myself included) so I was writing with this thought in mind too because we all have made a comeback at some point in our lives.
 Sep 2016
Doug Potter
I gather smells from
the garden near
the well
where
every drop drank
will be worth
my toil.
End of year gardening.
 Sep 2016
Traveller in time
We. Wallow. In our degradation. Until. Our hearts become. Callus.  Within. ,
Love. the. evil. We have become , and hate the good.

". Bar ram you to your clan , your. Fleece be true. , sheep be true bar ram you "

Buckingham. Palace. 1837. a. Young. Queen. Victoria.  Salutes. her people
". Never let them know how hard it is to bear ma'am. ' Lord Melbournes words  ringing in her  Majesty's ears.

'. But. You. My. Friends are a. Royal priesthood , a chosen people , nation set apart. ".
" never surrender ""
Though. Friends mock , and Pitt.  May  call. ,  loneliness. Rear its ugly head .
Wondering minds persist ,
my God is ever near ,
Abba. Father never let my heart tepid be .

It's  2002. Ashford. Railway station one Saturday  morn
How late. My train would be.
'. There's more to life than work Phil '.  a. Fair. Maden said to me.
How right she was  , that Sunday eve  my heart. Danced for joy ,
" two  lost sheep " sat. Side by side ,  and bound themselves to thee.
Though I walk through the valley of death  ,
With thicket. And thorn on each side ,
And briers on either side .
Light. and love will. Follow

1757
'. " Prone to wander bind thy wandering heart to thee "
      I find  myself  a traveller in a stage coach  peering
Over my fellow travellers. Scroll  .
and  weep over what I. had once wrote. , and bemoan
What I had become .

If. The mountains be carried into the sea ,
and I. trust not in chariots , and gold ,
and friends who mock my God ,
Or  flee to more pressing. encounters
take refuge in thee.

I. Shall. Hate evil  and cling to the good .
Don't. Be lonely ,
Iron shall strike Iron again ,
and walk through my Saviors. Open gate  full of rich pasture ,
And turn my eye from shallow things .

It's. 1779. and the Greyhound. Sinking fast
" Oh Lord have Mercy I. Cry as a sailor is tossed over board ,
In front of my very own eye .
Save a wretch like me "

With the spirit of Redmond  in 92. To Finnish his race
May our fleece be true bar ram you x
Dedicated. To. All Christians. With eating disorders.  And. Mental health issues. .
 Sep 2016
Michael Murphy
They use fractals for the mountains
And then again for the trees

I think they might use calculus
For the waves upon the seas

Fibonacci works for sea shells
I heard also for the ear

Fibonacci knows the perfect rose
I submit to you my dear

Although not common in nature
If at all it's only a blip

But still incredibly fun for me and my son
When we made our Möbius strip

The most confusing math in nature
Used describing me and you

I learned in school, I know it's true
That one plus one, is two

But you and I together
It feels like we are one

And when you are away from me
The math it equals none
A mathematician's love poem? You don't see that everyday!
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