~Follow The Dream~
(A new sonnet form)
I wait and sometimes I don't understand
Why you are acting the way you do
Many things that take place all around us
Makes us at times go completely mad
But still somewhat I know we have each other
Because we truly care no matter what
And true love is more than one thing or two
But there are those times not really planned
When we try to make so many wishes come true
Even if we are certain we might get less
Of whatever from the past by now we had
Life has a way of making some things rather
More difficult, sometimes for some of us,but,
There's a light somewhere for me and you too...
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2007
March,5,2007
Nature Abounds
Water cascading slowly through the falls,
lazy summer days in granite canyons.
Splashing and swishing around nature's calls,
times shared with our favorite companions.
Wildlife drinking their full at waters edge,
watching carefully for no surprises.
Standing in puddles on the smooth wet ledge,
aware of predators in all their guises.
Sun heating rocks in the mid of July,
while cool mountain streams flow down from above.
Birds singing arias while flying high,
or cooing softly like a snow white dove.
Nature abounds within all its splendor,
painted with colors deepen and tender.
© 2007 Philip N. Carcione
[after Acts 1:9]
To certain heights ascending, He can see
the city He wept for, Jerusalem;
the little hill where, on the cross of death,
He conquered sin for all eternity;
then, to one side, the empty borrowed tomb---
proof that none need endure eternal doom;
and, over there, His birthplace, Bethlehem
(still scarred by Herod's bloody perfidy);
and further north, beloved Galilee
(where planted seeds of faith yield a great crop),
and Mother's little home in Nazareth,
and next to it the carpenter's small shop.
Then, passing through resplendant Heavenlies,
He brought, to Father's throne, these memories.
Starward
[jlc]
There can be no more time to say goodbye
The river's flooding through these iron gates
Without a single tear, I close my eyes
Vengeful of the past I've come to hate
Look now, the armies capturing their kill
Pieces of me stuck underneath their skin
Brooding and barking, seeking such a thrill
As taking my insides out from within
Investigate the heart, it has been failed
Rotted with a tinge of simplicity
It's true colors seeming to be unveiled
As it beats a tune of duplicity
Though bitten in two, I wish you farewell
No longer inside my heart can you dwell
I can feel some strange sensations within my chest,
Tremendous earthquakes brutally tearing me apart.
Have I found the treasure to my never-ending quest?
Or is it just fate that seems to be playing with my heart?
Tell me how to change my approach to life,
Because I need your strength to get me through.
Teach me how to get rid of this knife,
Because the last thing I want is losing you.
I know there may be a lack of words from my side,
This is why I’m begging you, look into my soul.
Read my mind, please let us try to make this stride,
But please make sure your heart I will not foul.
Rob me of my body, rob me of my mind;
In this body, in this mind; it is love that you will find...
And then we went and sat down by the sea
to wallow in debauch induc-ed haze.
Its gentle ebb that showed to what degree
We'd suffer for our sins, and paved the way
for sunday's serenade there by the beach.
But drums were not an ideal sound to hear
when my still settling pint was yet to reach
the agonising throb between my ears.
So off twixt shore and surf we sauntered now
in search of public transport to allow
our trip to Devil's Dyke and then some grub.
We spent an hour inside that dreadful pub
before my fury led me to refuse
to pay, and leave and write this little muse.
Thou art alluring to mine eye this morn!
Those bronz-ed folds upon thy crescent mound,
Like piles of rusty leaves, adorn.
Thy glist'ning crust with tapered ends surrounds
The tangy meaty mash and swede inside.
Thou art more lovely in thy hot-plate home
Than any other pastries who reside
beside thee as usurpers to thy throne.
Thou hast a secret past the few now know:
Invented down the mines so long ago
By Cumbrians digging coal, and stolen south,
And bastardised with cider in the mouths
Of Cornish farmers. I smile with smug conceit
To think it's something northern that they eat.