The green and the grey

The prevailing Sou’Westerly’s blowing quite hard
with white horses out there today
Its cooler but the view from the beach
is great with the green and the grey

Lines

Pieces of me didn’t break. Socks I didn’t roll, shirts
I didn’t fold. Hardly limbed, I carried
each cup of malice in my clenched teeth, and scoured lands
on ten quadrillion purring wheels, a wave of
stampeding machinery, throwing up trees.

Morning Breaks

haiku

Morning breaks praising
happy songbirds greet the dawn
new day awakens

 

Copyright © 2017 Angela Umphers Rueger – All Rights Reserved

Illusion: acrostic poem

an acrostic poem

Image of distorted reality
Latent belief in falsehood
Lack of substance
Undermining of truth

SEASONS

By Charles Robert Lindholm

life before you
I was six when you were born
growing up in different parts of the country
tender shoots in springtime
no way of knowing we’d ever meet

becoming friends
looking forward to spending time together
talking, going places, learning to care

becoming lovers
sharing the intimacy of our bodies and souls
bonding together in the rush of oneness

DANCING

By Charles Robert Lindholm

dancing to the music
you always lead
you call the tune
I always pay

dancing to the music
partners in fantasy

THE KEY

By Charles Robert Lindholm

she wants to keep the key
it seems rather strange
since she’s left
            the city
                        the state
                                    and me

she needed to distance me
            with time
                        with miles
                                    with an affair

We Are Connected

Credit : my own : en route to America via Korea

Passengers on a journey to a place they must go
They talk about things no one else will know
Weave a story and maybe add some spice
To make their simple lives seem quite nice

Roads

Roads

-Linda Lee Lyberg

Living in the shadows of your life

Searching for paths into your heart

Looking for answers all in strife

A journey so hard unsure where to start.

How Many Trees

How many trees does it take to clothe a mountain?
How many grains form the river’s watershed?
How many drops does it take to fill a fountain?
How many hairs wave and toss upon my head?

Our little garden

I love our little garden
and the space we have out here
It’s lovely in the summer
and at other times of year
And yes, it’s on the small side
but that’s the way it is
So we’re not that bothered by it
as there’s nothing here remiss

For Better or for Worse

Sometimes I cannot remember
What I said to you yesterday,
Or even a minute ago.

TIC TOC A LITTLE FASTER, CLOCK

By Charles Robert Lindholm and Linda Luna

Tic Toc-ing clock

please move faster

and stop torturing me

I SHALL BE SILENT

By Charles Robert Lindholm

If the words
that You read
by my hand
hurt You

I shall lay down my pen
and not write
for I never
ever want to hurt
the heart of My Friend

If the words
that I said
cut You 

WITH A CHILDLIKE HOPE AND A HEARTFELT PRAYER

By Charles Robert Lindholm

It was an offense
but was it intentional? No!
and I’ve begged Her forgiveness
now that I know

In my haste and exuberance
a sin, unintended
and I prayed to the Lord
that this breach may be mended

Blessed Are Those

Blessed are those
Ambitions, tempered with reality
Expectations reined in
Happiness just a step away

7:08 am.

Submitted by Ben Brizell

.

Every morning now,
every cold, wet June morn
I awaken to a message from you,
the hours pass revealing the same time
each day, each morning.
Each message filled with a little black heart
at 7:08 am.

The Color Of Love

The Color of Love

-Linda Lee Lyberg

Morning peeks through my window

In my forgetful slumber

I reach out for you

My hand touches the

Cold pillow where your

Head once lay

And I remember.

The fly-past

Gulls above the Metropole
a fly-past just for me
Here in Brighton in the sun
next to the deep blue sea

THE POWER OF BELIEF

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Give Yourself the best gift You can give

Give the gift of a belief in Yourself to Your heart and soul

Champion Your dreams and Your heart’s desire

The Power of belief will turn dreams into action

I AM NOT A POET

By Charles Robert Lindholm

I AM NOT A POET
I AM JUST A SCRIBE
WRITING DOWN THE WORDS
THE UNIVERSE WHISPERS
TO ME ON THE WIND

THE WORDS SING
TO NATURE’S SONG
THEY SPEAK TO THE SOUL
AND TOUCH OUR HEARTS

AN UNNAMED MUSE

By Charles Robert Lindholm

She speaks to me
in the middle of the night
I wake to the silence
and hear, “You must write”

She tells me
of words
and makes them so clear
as She whispers

THE WORD WEAVER

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

Quietly he sits
in the silence of the night
weaving words inside his head
by the flickering candlelight

His muse has shown him everything
in the grand design
so he weaves his words with subtlety,
with cadence, rhythm and rhyme

Into the Wind (haiku)

Like the feathered flower
so the transient traveler
into the wind

Copyright © 2017 Linda Luna – All Rights Reserved
from Dark Side of the Moon

Paper Promises

Upon my dresser sits a bowl
With slips of paper filled.
They bear a message to my soul,
By pen and ink there quilled.

Beach

Crunching down the shingle
Drinking the sea breeze
Listening to your chatter
As you throw pebbles into the sea

Angel’s Trumpet

Angel’s Trumpet

-Linda Lee Lyberg

With her wings wrapped around

She looks serenely on

At the world that surrounds her

Where infinite life abounds.

PAST

Past
Haunts me more
Than it ever did before
For it has a longer history to pour

Haunted
I stick to myself
Holding tight I wonder
More about the consequences
That could have been well mended