Poetry Poems

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The LORD Reigns

The Lord is robed in majesty,
He is robed with strength as He reigns;
Humbled having a modesty,
Through His monarchy that attains.

He has put on strength with His belt.
The world established never moved;
From His throne judgment is dealt,
For the events that has behooved.

His throne established from of old,
Eternally everlasting;
He watches as events unfold,
Listens who prays and is fasting.

For the floods have been lifting up,
As the floods lifts up the roaring;
The roaring waves will develop,
Loss of property underscoring.

Mightier than loudish thunders,
Mightier than waves of the sea;
The Lord with His mighty wonders,
Being spoken through His decree.

For His decrees are trustworthy,
Holiness benefits His house;
Everything and able to see,
Evermore to dwell with my spouse.

Copyright © 2021 Richard Newton Sherrer




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Robin Hood

Robin Hood

All through the night, I have run for my life,
May I rest for a while in your barn?
Out in the street hear the running of feet,
'Tis the soldiers of wicked Prince John.

I’d like to help but my wife isn’t well, and
The sheriff might call any time, come back
In a week and perhaps then we’ll see, what
To do about saving your life.

Out of the trees I emerge and relieve,
All the rich men of money and gold,
Deep in my heart I know I must impart,
To the needy, the hungry, the old.

‘You’re neck’s in a noose if you steal my
Wife’s jewels,’ said the rich man deprived
Of his purse, ‘people in need, hungry
Children to feed,’ he went further, and
Claimed them a curse.

Then comes the time for the gold to divide,
You should see how the people they change,
Doors open wide they salute me with pride,
I'm their saviour, their hero, their saint.

In a time of dire need, Robin Hood came to
Me, begging only a rest for his head,
Forsooth and gadzooks, I failed branch
And root, turned my back locked the door,
Went to bed.

Well, it's not much good being Robin Hood,
Fair*weather friends, I’ve got plenty,
It's not much good being Robin Hood,
Deserving souls, one in twenty…

© Joseph G Dawson



Cold War Country Rock

Four o´clock in the morning,
Another four hours to go,
Mouth tastes of stomach acid
Eyes like pee holes in the snow.
Every Mid shift at this time
It´s always the same
Time to start playing
My stay awake game.
Me and old Elvis playing rock
On our imaginary record show,
Country Rock mainly
For those in the know.

A quick check around
For duty´s sake
Just to make sure
Everybody´ still awake.
Pete on station four
Is starting to nod.
The Op next door
Gives him a sly prod.
Back to the music.
Wish I could close my eyes,
But that´s just when sleep
Catches you by surprise.

Cold War Berlin, Cuban Crisis
Still in full swing,
Nobody quite knowing
What problems it will bring.
Whatever they may be
We´re all hoping they´ll keep,
Just another four hours
Then it´s off to bed to sleep.
Elvis racks the records
With the coming of full light.
Together we´ve survived
Yet another sleepless night.



monkey puzzle

monkey puzzle

I wonder if they would say you’re an elegant Rose
or remain quiet
as they pass under the spiralling branches
of the once ornamental trees
gathered like concerned children
on the edge of a graveyard

many believe
there’s a devil living inside
that if you look closely out of the corner of your eye
far away in the distance beyond the elephant’s foot
there he sits
writing far*fetched tales from his spiky perch

they say a dense crown once sat atop his head
like an unassailable eyrie
now pendulous arms hang down
clothed sharply in triangular dark green
so that he broadly resembles a respectable gentleman
eccentric in a way that makes you stare in disbelief

when we’re afraid
we want to drown out the fear
and so we hide away like a victorian centrepiece
like an over*enthusiastic apology
that puts right some of our past
What was it that he did to attract your attention?

the spider weaves its web in concentric circles
a shimmering golden cape
arranged in spirals around the trunk
it’s a beauty not lost on the devil himself
once again considered vulgar
and unattractive

could it be that this is his deepest secret
the unmet and unspoken expectations
of a lost and dying world
no longer content to steal the souls of the departed
living relics left behind
like sombre survivors of an earlier time

it is because of this
that they say that the devil is never alone
a thought which has many a monkey
frantically biting its fingernails
always teetering on the seesaw of hope and despair
a bit puzzled and lost in the distant morning haze

© November 2021



Everything changes without Notice

Everything changes without Notice

Sat! looked around my apartment
everything looks like when I went
to bed last night.

Only! Everything was different from
what I seen last night, when getting
up this morning.

Today! On the first day of my life, my
thoughts were fresh as the wind
blowing through the trees, walking
down the sidewalk by the street packed
with cars going somewhere.

Everything in place in my apartment
looked just like yesterday, but strange!

Yesterday; now the past will never be
lived again, though it looks exactly like
it does today.

Life is strange playing out its story to learn
and taught to another.

Smiling at a stranger walking quickly pass
you in thought. Little children running in
laughter without a worry in the world.

I so often wonder! how we take so much for
granted, without knowing we are doing so
through our busy lives, trying to make the day
as smooth as we can?

Breathing the fresh air is miraculous within
the outlook of the way we observe life.

Just for a moment, as we gather our thoughts
that special second releases the realization life
is truly a treasure, living unaware of everything
we have no idea what exists till something goes
wrong, hitting us hard at that very second.

We must never take life for granted, it is so very
precious to us.

Life is a golden dispensary of thoughts, actions
collecting memories, laughter, and a continuous
ability to move forward with promise.

Nothing is made for us, we gather our own love
and respect of heart, sharing what we know
with whom we love.

We are simple in spirit with hidden light within
that shall shine brightly if we choose to let it.

Always move forward with the promise of remarkable
the unbelievable power of faith and hope stored in
minds distant and alone.

So back into my little apartment I go, to lookout
the window of wonderment! Realizing that the tree
outside the window has grown larger in the last six
years while old leaves fall and new life starts over
and over again.

Saw some birds flying through the large tree
and a cat running after some pigeons.

The miracle of life is a fantastic journey to
conquer and appreciate. Never realized how
different, just one day can make.

Copyright ⓒ DerenaBree( All Rights Reserved)



Screaming Dove in the peaceful silence

It was just a bit before the second hour from dawn,
that I heard that Dove screaming!
It flew past swiftly, I was not dreaming,
but why did the Dove so cry?
So immaculately dressed that Dove, right down to its reddish boots so fly.
Pain, I felt its pain just before it began to rain.
The rain clouds sailed in from the Atlantic sea and,
then the wind dropped anchor in the atmosphere.
Filling the air were Roosters, Sparrows,
Red*necked pigeons, Yellow breast Robbins and fowl with their voices,
each after their own tribal styles and free choices,
but where, where were the Black birds!

I sensed that that Dove was communicating with me still.
Why! Whatever could it be saying to me in the early morning stillness.
His burden must be heavy like a government levy.
Out there in the wild he would have to be spry and stay alive.
Even after it was gone on swiftly flying wings,
the vibes of its scream in my skull did cling.
All the birds were singing now all around in an open surround sound.
Then the sunlight was shadowed by the rain clouds drifting on their tether.
It was then the underbrush Cricket orchestra started to play just a few notes musical.
I suspected it was a brief tune up, the light having dropped and all.

The birds covered, singing specially spontaneous bright.
Then the voice of the rain lightly singing and briefly playing pan on some roofs and in gutterings.
Washing clean the green Pomegranates and the Crotons blazing fires in the Sun.
The wild vines covering the ground in a profusion of exploding white flowers,
like inches of snow fall, on the ground up north, shining under the Sun´s power.
As softly, softly, softly a light rain showered, paused, then showered.

A bit before the third hour from dawn, I paused near the River Tamarinds,
with their natural foliage awning. The Sun now one third yawning.
There I heard doves cooing, the melody was in family song.
Was it here that that screaming Dove belonged?
Perhaps he would return joining in the family song.
Maybe all the birds singing was the way harmony they were syncing,
and just before dusk, as the Sun softened its touch, in the evening light,
I heard that Dove, he had returned home in peace with love.
The family song filling their alcove, the boughs rocking them to sleep above.
The River Tamarinds leaning close in a homely sheltering grove.
The wild vines with their white and yellow flowers trailing down.
The bees and birds already in bed each in their night gowns.
We were all satisfied with our bread and our beds to rest our heads.
Thankful, thankful, thankful to the Creator for this His earthly hearth.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, He would light the dawn giving us a new day on Earth.
Each day a new start for us to overcome as new birth.


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