Easter time is upon us
Spring has come at last
Displaying all her beauty
Like a carpet she has cast
Out of the dreary winter
With colours of every shade
A breath-taking panorama
That Mother Nature has made
Frogs in the Lilly ponds
With frogspawn all around
Soon there will be tadpoles
Jumping up and down
Birds are also busy
Building with haste and zest
Making ready for new life
As they build their precious nest
Children prepare their Easter bonnets
Decorated with chicks eggs and glue
Display them at the Easter Parade
For the delights of me and you
It’s a time of new beginnings
To focus on new things to do
Be more positive in your thinking
To create a better future for you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
We watched the sunrise on Easter morning.
Crystal clear, God cast hands across the sky,
lifted clouds; memory of shadowing
ills, sweet brilliance to enhance our why …
When last night our energy seemed quite low
we soon might now in the passing of hours
resolve eternal the fears we all know.
Distant the annals of shame do tower
that streak nearby the coloring high winds.
Our lives today might renew forever
if God in sheer beauty and grace rescinds
the troubled child whose antics in fever
recall our sorrows and human failure
while the morning sunlight cries our future
© Thom Amundsen 2014
When Mary went to the tomb of Jesus on that first Easter morn
She knew that she had a problem that she must solve that day
She knew that the tomb with a large stone had been sealed
The problem was “who would help her roll the stone away?”
This is a problem that was not unique to them
And it is one that each one of us must face
For there are many stones in our life that need to be rolled away
Stones that hinder every member of the human race
The first stone to be rolled away is the stone of sin
A tendency which all of us have inherited
The desire that we should always please ourselves
Which shows that our salvation has not been merited
The second stone is the stone of unbelief
Which we have no faith in a future life in eternity
The belief that we must get as much as we can from our life on earth
Without excepting there is a future life in eternity
The third stone to be rolled away is the sin of pride
The feeling that we are superior to those we know
We may well be proud of our achievements
But humility is the other face we should show
The fourth stone to be rolled away is the sin of idolatry
When we worship Gods that have been made by man
Things which might not be bad in themselves
But not the God who was present when the world began
The fifth stone to be rolled away is the stone of prejudice
When we erect barriers between ourselves and others that we meet
Our conclusions are often drawn before all the facts are known
In other words we make our judgement before our knowledge is complete
And there are many other stones that need to be rolled away
If from the tomb of misery we are to be freed
For if we could live a truly happy life
We must live the kind of life God decreed
Easter eggs galore
Some for the rich
Some for the poor
Eat our lunch
Then off to pray
For a wonderful day
Time to relax
Time to enjoy
Our festive break
Get out the eggs
Indulge and enjoy
The company of our friends
Then off to pray
For a wonderful day
The clouds began to build,
and as the morning progressed,
the blacker the skies became.
First one drop then another,
the rain fell upon the ground.
The rain; a harbinger of events,
the wind was sure to bring.
a torrent of rain fell,
from the heavens its energy spent falling,
each raindrop pounded,
recklessly into the ground.
The winds blew in fierce gusts,
rocking the trees to and fro,
pruning and breaking the limbs
from trees the limbs flying aimlessly,
through the skies to nowhere.
Then with a crash,
and a boom the thunder told,
its telltale story, lightning had struck the earth.
One bolt, then another struck,
the flashes, and the booms,
growing more frightful,
with each strike.
The storm increased its ferocity,
lightning flashed, thunder echoed,
throughout the land,
they flashed and boomed,
in a continuous concert,
of nature’s purest and finest notes.
Hail began to fall assaulting the earth,
usurping the rains path from the clouds,
the once whispering rain,
now replaced with raucousness,
of pop, click, and thud.
The concert continued,
sustained by constant rain and hail,
prolonged by incessant lighting,
uninterrupted by perpetual thunder,
and conducted by none other,
than the Divine Wind.
Of course, the earth will survive,
and when the conditions are favourable,
the Divine Wind will pick up its baton,
and begin a new symphony,
using only the purest notes it has to offer.
Just as it has done for time without end,
All living things are invited to attend,
and every one of us is guaranteed,
a front row seat to watch and listen,
to the symphony the Divine Wind conducts.
All the elements of the symphony are;
written and conducted by the Divine Wind,
it cares not whether,
its performance is or isn’t enjoyed,
its joy is measured by the destruction,
it leaves in its wake.
And the aftermath of nature’s symphony,
the earth will cleanse itself,
of what remains behind,
and will wait patiently for the next gala opening,
of the Divine Wind’s newest symphony.
Posted by Frank Goulding
Newly hatched eggs
Bring little chicks,
And new born pigs
We hunt for eggs
And tasty sweets,
Lots of treats.
New sunny days
The winter has gone,
A bright spring sun.
Bright red skies
New things to see
Loving the Springtime
I want to create something
Something that would stay
Against the storms and obstacles
I know I’ll see it the next day
They leave you all alone
And, I don’t like it
I want to build something strong
Using my wit
And it would be permanent, for once
Unlike everything ordinary
By Grace Linton
Here’s the link of this post on my blog: http://justsomeimportantwords.wordpress.com/2014/04/16/unlike-everything-ordinary/
As you shuffled
Up the ramp, sweet old women
I gave you
Just a soft smile, I saw
You touched my heart
Made me think I will
See myself crisp and bold
As you see yourself
I won’t soon forget
Every detail of yourself, I
Only mere seconds, give
Take, the memory will last
Glowing wilds in your eyes, how
Could I do anything
Remember your blooming rosy perfume
Your teased gray hair, nothing
Out-of-place, the red
Lipstick on your
Pressed white blouse
Pleats and ruffles, in
Just the right place
Your dressy black
Pants no lint, no
Wrinkles, sassy and relaxed
I am sure it has
It was weighing you down
You wore it proudly, you are
A peacock flaunting gracefully
Strong hands with rings
Almost every finger, like
Many years have you been here
Cut tennis balls on the back legs
Shinning silver, strong
Not a mark, giving you the freedom
To do so many things
Those black patented leather
Bow at the toe, shine
Little feet as you shuffle
On, forward slow motion
The warmest, softest, most familiar
Part, although like I said
You are a stranger
Your smile, with every
Thankful smile that you
Are here, doing
What you want
No caregiver holding
Your arm, no one
Like they are wasting
Taking your time, finding
Your way it must have taken
You all day to look
This way, did you wake up
In the morning and think
Knowing how you were
In the cart. Did you
First take a bath or lay out
Your clothes, were you so excited
You did those things
The night before. How many
Your way into your freshly
Take the bus, have a friend
Drop you off, oh what
I would give to see your list
Probably heavy things
Like a ten pound bag of flour
Always found a way to make
Keep a smile
On your face. What a gift
To see you, share
A short but brilliant smile
What I wouldn’t give to share
A bit of tea, home made
Banana muffin and talk
With you a while
Have you touch my hand, believe
Me and you, listening
I’ll bring you flowers
I am new to this beautiful outlet of poetry. I stay home with my two wild boys and enjoy spending time in the outdoors when ever I get the chance. You can view more of my writing and photographs at The Shady Tree The Shady Tree
Beside wet shoes,
Bubbles in droplets,
Filled up puddles,
shining in dimmed sunlight.
Wet windy skies -
thumping on rooftops.
At people in shelters;
From blinking cars;
From earth to mars;
A Singing siren
This is todays’ morning rush hour..
A Wet Windy weather chilling in power.
-Written by Padmaja
ignorance is not bliss
today we burnt the only mattress on which we would have slept tonight
today we littered our streets with rocks and burning tyres from vehicles which would
have taken us to our only destination
a place called hope
UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN
Notice how many times we say good-bye when we
Part like love birds leaving storm gathering gulping
Atmosphere to sigh out too cold to shudder out rather be in from the
Rain shaking off its moisture as two stable geese after gathering its brood
Fed comforted cherished brood jealous as the fox does when it
Clutches onto a helpless meal when we part kisses too many to gather countless as
Heavy winter drops thud to rumbling roll storm clouds colliding eternally
Never really alone are we solitary panther alone slinking obscurely in
Tree of life hidden from unsympathetic eyes seeks only weakness to ravish
At a peak on a mountain top blue watching pattering steps
Closer to ending journey one final look back not like wife of Lot but happy glance
Careful thought as lonely eagle ponders prey until we meet again
I am both a featured and published writer (modestly, mind you, as I’ve yet to earn my daily bread from it). With reference to poetry, I completed three portfolio’s of works with my University of South Africa. All three portfolio’s feature small anthologies of poetry. Two of the portfolio’s were awarded distinctions.
I am finally completing my BA in languages and literature in which I am writing papers on poetry through the courses entitled Structuralism and Semiotics and Advanced theory of Poetry. One of the papers, previously marked by my good professor, received a distinction, 90% would you believe. In it, I wrote about the works of both Sylvia Plath and Ingrid Jonker. The second paper, I expect to do well here too, features Ted Hughes and Antje Krog.
I am bristling to get my writing career off to a prosperous start, and I write daily on film, literature, politics, history and cultural matters. I am also writing short stories and working on at least two novels, when it will be finished, I cannot yet say.
Time permitting, you are, of course invited to follow me on Moviemarks (also on WordPress), and leave you with my addresses for your ease, and in good spirits and gratitude for your invitations.
Should you wish to know more about me, you are most welcome to ask.
With kind regards,
https://markwhelansliteraryblog.wordpress.com/ : Mark Whelan Writes
https://markwhelansfilmlitblog.wordpress.com/ : Moviemarks
This is a poem of three thick friends in college – Kane, Jude and Zane. Kane means a fighter, Jude means the praised one and Zane means the gifted one. The poem describes three years time after college- How time and destiny takes them to different paths. Will they still stay friends later on? Read on to find out.
They were together since college days;
Their professor nicknamed them ‘Shining Rays’!
Together they would scout along;
Hence, to the same group they belonged!
They would sneak out of beds in the night and go to the town’s secret place;
Kane liked the heights and wind blowing in his face.
Jude always thought of leaving the sleepy town;
Zane was contended with the view of the horizon.
Time was spent hanging out and having fun;
For field of interest, all had different aspirations.
Kane took the same course as Jude, being his ardent fan,
And became an also ran!
Kane was good at whatever he did; be it studies or the skit.
Not thinking clear; his career plan he knit.
He was going to be a lawyer like all others;
He was motivated to do so by his brother.
Zane wasn’t sure of what to take,
The decision was going to be make or break.
His heart said photography but his talent was raw;
His went with his logic and it said law!
They studied together day and night;
Zane was hardworking, Jude was fast, Kane seemed to have lost goal sight.
Finally came the day of exam, when they gave their LSATs.
Zane scored well, Jude scored great, Kane failed and got upset.
Kane fell into the abyss of darkness and despair,
To bring him out was difficult; the damage couldn’t be repaired.
People laughed at him and his brother;
His brother tried to convince him not to let that bother.
Guilty for having let his brother down; Kane ran out of town.
Determined he wouldn’t return until he became something on his own;
He left behind Jude and Zane, walking away with pace,
It was time for him to leave the rat race.
Jude wasn’t much disturbed by the fact that Kane left;
He had only one goal – to be a lawyer, which mattered over the rest.
Using people as ladders to climb more;
He didn’t stay in touch with Zane anymore.
Zane was distraught with Kane gone,
There was no one to talk to; with Jude moving on.
What a game had time played – he pondered over the snowing nights,
Remembering the days of summer when they used to fly kites.
With great expectations, Kane reached the Big Apple;
He had to get a job, be it at Four Seasons or The Maple.
As he sat on the street bench; filled with hunger inside,
An advertorial asking for salesmen flew by his side.
He applied and got the job; he was determined to make a mark,
He walked door to door selling products until it was dark.
Within two years, he became the best salesman;
Gone were the days when he used to be an also ran!
Jude became the best closer the town had ever seen,
It was time to broaden the horizon and tread on paths unseen.
Filled with dreams, to New York he flied;
From up, his town seemed like a tiny blot under the seamless sky.
He raced ahead of all his colleagues,
For he wanted to be the best in his league;
Winning became a habit at the cost of truth many times,
His managing partner promised to promote him in near time.
Zane got a litigation case where his client clicked the best fashion photographs,
Delighted was he; for he would get to meet him and take his autograph.
Their interactions gave him an insight into photography,
He won the case for the client; but thought why he had concealed photography.
Wind was howling like the swirling storm inside;
He was good at law; but in photography he wanted to confide.
Finally, Zane decided to nurture his passion and go after art;
And as destiny would have it, to New York he depart.
Kane started his own company to train salesmen, with help of venture capital;
Such was the unprecedented growth, he made it public, to unleash its potential.
Finally, he called his brother to the city,
His brother’s eyes were filled with tears of pride; where earlier there was pity.
Jude fell in love that spring with a gold digger,
When she left him, he pleaded her to stay like a beggar.
The fact that he was lonely though successful made him astound,
He missed Kane and Zane that night, his guilt knew no bounds!
Zane’s passion soon got him a job and he started shooting ramp walks,
With time and practice, he excelled in photoshop.
He bought a fashion studio,
And over a short period mastered making portfolios.
He finally found Kane when he read about him in the news,
He caught a cab to the mentioned address; the lift wasn’t working due to bad fuse.
19 floors he climbed, to see Kane working in his full form,
He stood there to admire him; Kane had made hardwork his new norm.
Kane hugged Zane pleasantly surprised,
Three years were really long they realised.
They caught up with each other pretty soon,
It felt like yesterday they used to roam around the campus like goons!
Kane took Zane to a bar which had the best skyline view,
Across their table sat lonely Jude; with a bottle of vodka new.
They approached Jude and he broke down,
He said he made a big mistake when he left town!
Jude pleaded guilty and asked Zane for forgiveness,
He wanted to be with them, he craved togetherness.
Zane forgave and put the matter to the past,
Jude slept like a baby that night; after all past was in the past!
Jude took them the next day to a barren mountain top,
‘To a new beginning’ they toasted, ‘let the fun never stop!’
They still meet up regularly to admire the view,
After all, true friends are rare and very few!!
So true friends are rare and shouldn’t be lost. If you have not been in touch with yours, go ahead, take the first step this weekend and catch up with them. Patch up your differences and be the bigger man. I’m sure it would be great to experience what you are missing now. Why not endeavor to resolve it?