Challenge Words

A Kiss(A Kiss~Life~Winter)

We've been kissed by Winter
snow covers the ground,
there's a chill in the air
clouds above are all around.

Life of singing birds
flying through the sky,
a soft, gentle breeze blows
and something catches my eye.

You stand beside me
and offer me a kiss,
your touch warms my heart
my soul fills with such bliss.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Dec.30/2013

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I had a different title, but decided to change it to something else. The words in brackets, are challenge words.

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Cat And Dog (Cat, Dog, Sang)

Cat and dog are at it again
they're trying to impresss me,
but they are not fooling anyone
by singing for their food, daily.

I can't wait to hear this
wonder what song they'll sing,
it may be blues or even dance
such happiness to them, it brings.

I think it's torture on the ears
hearing them every single day,
I'm starting to think they're tone deaf
in each and every way.

Stand in front of the fireplace
snapping fingers and tapping toes,
they sang their song to me
they'd sing high, then go very low.

It's something they just came up with
didn't make any sense to me,
they even took turns dancing
I was tired of listening to their plea.

One would howl, the other meow
but not in the way you'd think,
they had switched places, you see
I heard giggling, then they'd wink.

I thought that was pretty clever
even for a dog and cat,
they'd twirl their canes, 'round and 'round
as I watched them tip their hats.

I think that maybe this time
they had outsmarted me,
they stood there with smiles
when they saw me with food AND treats.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones
May.11/2012

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem written for children. I figured I'd put a little humour close to the end.

My Dearest Grandpa (Walked, Road, Heaven)

Do you remember when I was a child
how I had always looked up to you?
You were the only father figure in my life
every day, felt so brand new.

You used to tell me stories, grandpa
about how you used to work on the railroad,
you also worked at the fish plant
your stories had to be told.

"Tell me another story grandpa"
I would always used to say,
you talked about being the head gardener
at the Algonquin Hotel, every single day.

You worked extremely hard grandpa
with every day of your life,
even being the night watchman at the Hotel
where every evening, you would call your wife.

Remember how we had walked
uptown to the ice cream store,
we always had grandma with us
she enjoyed every minute of it, for sure.

Grandpa, I enjoyed every minute
we had spent together,
you found ways to cheer me up
when I was under the weather.

Going from hole to hole, on the golf course
being on the wharf, fishing with you,
walking along the beach, during the Summer
there was always something to do.

You taught me how to draw
skip rocks along the water,
I know you loved me dearly
you did everything with me, your granddaughter.

I enjoyed our times together, grandpa
listened, as you played on your accordion,
walking around outside in the yard
picking roses, every now and then.

I miss you every day, grandpa
not a day goes by, that I don't think of you,
yesterday, would have been your eighty-seventh birthday
grandma, misses you with her heart too.

I hope Heaven is treating you nicely
my sadness, continues to grow,
missing you dearly, every day
it's taken a long time to write something, you know.

You are now with your daughter, my Mom
you have had an interesting life,
down the road, you've walked your journey
missing you dearly, is my strife.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Dec.23/2011

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My grandfather passed away Jan.10/2011. I miss him dearly. He was the only father figure I had in my life and I looked up to him. It took me this long to finally sit down to write this. I still cry, every time I read this poem. I miss and love you grandpa (Bampa).

Forgiveness Amongst Friends (Ant ~ Spider ~ Bee)

The Spring sun shines above
but, beneath the willow tree,
sits a spider and an ant
waiting for their friend, the bee.

They always meet up
every sun shiny day,
under the willow tree
so all three can play.

The spider and ant were talking
when finally, bee decided to show,
they looked at her, tapping their watches
"You're four hours late, you know."

"I had to do my hair," she explained
"my make-up, was hard to do,
then I had to find a dress
and my matching polkadot shoes."

"You're not going to a party," said ant
"we're just here to play,
you will get all dirty
and what if it rains today?"

"We'll let it go for now," said spider
let's go play in the sun,
we'll play hide and go seek
it will be so much fun."

Bee was so upset
she wanted to go home,
quickly, she turned to run away
and ran into the garden gnome.

Ant snickered and laughed at bee
he was rolling on the ground,
"That is quite enough," said spider
"bee, I still want you around."

"I'll just go home," said bee
"I am such a mess,"
she wiped dirt off of herself
and exclaimed "look at my beautiful dress!"

"I knew this would happen," said ant
"but, you didn't listen to me,
we're only here to play, I said
not going to a party."

"Ant, leave her alone
she's been through enough,
I'm tired of you being a bully," yelled spider
"and sick of you being rough."

Ant walked over to bee
knew he had to apologise,
gave her a great big hug
and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry for everything
please say you forgive me,"
ant was so ashamed of himself
he turned and sat 'neath the willow tree.

Bee walked over to him
and sat down by his side,
"of course, I forgive you
my feelings, I can't hide."

Ant looked at bee
tears rolled down his cheeks,
she could tell he was hurting
and feeling very weak.

Spider gave them both a hug
"This is what friendship is made of,
forgiveness goes a long way," said spider
"and filled with lots of love."

All was well between them
the spider, ant and bee,
they finally decided to play,
their hearts fillled with love and glee.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Apr.27/2012

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I had the title and the challenge words, but took me a while to write the poem.

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Autumn Leaves Of Gold (Leaves, Gold, Autumn)

The sky is a clear blue
leaves blow gently in the breeze,
Fall does take its toll
as leaves fall with ease.

Reds, oranges, yellows, and gold
leaves being blown everywhere,
cold days are certainly coming
the trees will be naked and bare.

Swaying in the wind
tree branches bend and bow,
not looking forward to the cold night
watching the sunset's evening glow.

Clouds of purples, pinks and reds
reflect the sun's radiant beams,
the moon is ready to smile
its light gives a brilliant gleam.

Autumn was slow to arrive
nights are starting to get cold,
I enjoy this time of year
looking at Autumn leaves of gold.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Oct.10/2011

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I have a picture, that I took, that goes along with this poem. That's what inspired me to write this.

As Mother Sleeps (Mother, Chair, Sleeping)

A big, comfy chair
sits in the corner of the room,
I sat in this chair, as a child
smelling my mother's, sweet perfume.

My mother looked after me
the best way she knew how,
she clothed and fed me
I'm all grown up now.

She sits in her comfy chair
and stares out the window,
lets the heat of sun warm her
thankful, for what God has bestowed.

Mother is much older than I
I'm thankful for the life she gave,
teaching me the values of life
even though, we had to scrimp and save.

Her eyes become extremely weary
my heart she had been gently reaping,
she relaxes in her comfy chair
I'm quite, as she sits sleeping.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Dec.17/2011

An Angel I Did See (Door, Heaven, Angel)

I walked up to the door
an Angel I did see,
it greeted me into Heaven
I was with my family.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Dec.17/2011

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I just had one line and went with it.

A Farmer And His Horse (Farmer, Horse, Plough)

He's tilled his soil through Spring
the farmer works really hard,
his horse works hard too
Winter snow, kept them on guard.

They waited all Winter
for the snow to melt,
so they could play in the dirt
the cold, they have felt.

The plough sits ready
to be hooked up to the horse,
there is more tilling to do
the farmer knows this, of course.

His rows are ready
to be planted with seeds,
planning for the Winter to come
the job is non-stop, yes indeed.

He waters his gardens
waiting for his crops to grow,
the Summer sun bakes the seeds
row after gently looked after row.

The farmer works hard every day
bringing in his harvest,
potatoes, cucumbers, onions
but the strawberries, are the best.

Copyright ©Cynthia Jones
Dec.17/2011