[JustAmy]

Poetry and Potpourri made its debut on September 22, 2003

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[JustAmy]

3-25-05
Graphic by Billie

Spring Sets Forth

The world awakes, and opens eye.
To wipe the sleep-dust from its sky.
It clothes itself in finest dress,
And tempts small things to self express,

The bird in song, the bud in leaf,
The questing pilgrim in belief,
A fool in love, his heart so full,
He cannot stand against the pull.

This is the world of vernal hope,
That calls shy spirits to elope,
To cast aside their sloughing shell,
And step forth, in new Life to dwell.

Bring out the living, cast down doubt,
Leave all dark thoughts, and go without,
The dampened spirit has been wrung,
And in our hearts a world has sprung.

The new-born hope may toddle crude,
While I will stride with certitude.
I have been in this place before,
And well I know what Spring is for.

NicknamedBob . . . . December 5, 2004

[Jack Deth]

Something to lighten the heart:

JUST DESSERTS
Just before waking I had a dream most cathartic.
Of Judge Greer being stranded in the Antarctic.
Dazed and bleeding in a Polar Bear Preserve.
The Bears surrounding food and water hit a nerve.

A most delicious and ironic incantation.
Of very personal, soul wrenching devastation.
Some people just have to get what they deserve.
When PETA decided to drop by en masse and observe.


Jack Deth~ 03/25/05.

[SheLion]

[William Terrell]

I wrote a couple of love poems that you ladies out here might enjoy. Both are nameless.

---

If my love were a light,
There would be no night,
And all that is day would seem dim and gray.

If my love were a sound,
No silence could be found,
And all that is noise, the play of little boys.

If my love were a breath,
There would be no death,
And all that lives would endure forever.

---

---

When thou catcheth a glimpse of thy natural sin,
To despaireth it's all that's contained within,
Come to me.
And I'll show thee a winter's leaf still clings to summer's tree.

When all thou canst do is watch it come,
And knowest it's ordained for thee to succumb,
Come to me.
And I'll show thee the forge that tempers will soothe thy burns.

When a trail of tears leads back to thee,
And not blame nor shame canst thou flee,
Come to me.
And I'll show thee how few despise a rose for the thorns thereon.

When is stained thy world that fateful gray,
And thy body bound holds thee at bay,
I'll come to thee.
And paint a portrait of life in the service of love.

---

Can't believe I wrote something like this. Suspect I need a course of antibiotics.