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~The Dragonflies'Lair~Poetry Thread XXIII
October 18, 2005 | bentfeather/The Poets of the Lair

Posted on 10/17/2005 9:03:55 PM PDT by Soaring Feather

My Dragon Fly and Me

If I could be a Dragon Fly
and wing my way through the sky
I would never be shy
just me and my Dragon Fly!

By moonlight we ride the wind
chase the comets tail for fun
by day we would hide from the sun
our fragile wings would come undone

On darkest nights we would use
fireflies as our guide
we would dip and we would glide
through the heavens open wide
and scatter diamonds in the night sky
my Dragon Fly and me...

And we would wing past our lovers
silent in the night...
to kiss their face in our flight
much to their surprise and delight
my Dragon Fly and me in sight...

Such a view do we share
away up here in the air
of breezes soft through our hair
my Dragon Fly and me a pair...

bentfeather©




~The Dragon Flies' Lair was first posted August 27, 2003 ~

~A place to write a few lines of poetry or prose.~

~ Links to all threads.~

The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread I
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread II
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread III
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread IV
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread V
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread VI
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread VII
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread VIII
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread IX
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread X
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XI
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XII
The Dragon Flies' Lair ~ Thread XIII
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XIV
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XV
The Dragon Flies'Lair~Thread XVI
The Dragon Flies'Lair~Thread XVII
The Dragon Flies'Lair~Thread XVIII
The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XIX

The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XX

The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XXI
The Dragon Flies'Lair~Thread XXII





TOPICS: Poetry
KEYWORDS: classicpoetry; dragonflies; dragonflieslair; haiku; humor; lair; originalpoetry; prose; songlyrics
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To: bentfeather



Shall we then
meet
when the darkness sweeps us up
like the scattering of leaves
on a long autumn's night
dancing in the wind,
meeting as one year
progresses into the next,
excitement in our hearts,
transition the hope
of new birth?

Shall we wander
along the dark paths,
wander watching the prodigal stars
scatter their dust upon an unknowing landscape,
atom by atom,
with that crystalline call
that makes us yearn to eternity?

Shall we wait, instead,
hovering like snowflakes
on boughs of blue-green spruce,
white purity
twinkling in the winter sun,
Dangling like the last drop
of a crystal icecle,
poised to fall
soon as the weather warms?

Or shall we instead,
walk together this morning,
our words hovering about us
perhaps like a protective halo,
guarding us
from who knows what,
perhaps a soon forgotten moment of innocence
glimmering in our unquenched hopes,
or perhaps, instead,
our words might become the doorway to a truth
we hadn't seen before.

Who would have thought we could
have this time together,
You and I?


821 posted on 12/28/2005 7:02:08 AM PST by Knitting A Conundrum (Act Justly, Love Mercy, and Walk Humbly With God Micah 6:8)
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To: Knitting A Conundrum

Good morning!!


Oh my goodness, this is wonderful. Thank You.


822 posted on 12/28/2005 7:04:40 AM PST by Soaring Feather
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To: bentfeather

Dear Feather

I would indeed love to tell you of caverns deep, and pots of gold, amid the elfin glens, but due to the grinch, I will be off line for a while. Know I will return when I can, and until then have a happy holiday, and thanks for sharing this warm lair with all of us wonderful, (and I think, slightly crazy) people!


823 posted on 12/28/2005 4:03:19 PM PST by WayzataJOHNN (That little old thermostat cranker!)
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To: WayzataJOHNN

Dear Johnn,

Know you add so much to The Lair.

Please know you will be missed. I look forward to your return very soon.

Happy New Year, dear friend.


824 posted on 12/28/2005 5:45:24 PM PST by Soaring Feather
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To: HopeandGlory; Knitting A Conundrum; WayzataJOHNN; SAMWolf; snippy_about_it; Texas Songwriter; ...

Good morning everyone.

825 posted on 12/29/2005 6:26:44 AM PST by Soaring Feather
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To: All


Thought of the Day


poet Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "This time, like
all times, is a very good one, if we but know
what to do with it."




826 posted on 12/29/2005 6:40:19 AM PST by Soaring Feather
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To: bentfeather; NicknamedBob; Old Sarge; laurenmarlowe; Darksheare; All

 

Heroes

A hero is someone
who gets up every day
and does his job
day after day,
week after week,
No matter what life throws at them.
Some are recognized by others
But most are not.
It doesn't matter to the real heroes.
They just keep doing their jobs
Even if no one notices.
The fake heroes,
 tooting their own horns
are motivated by recognition
Not by the love of doing what is right.
With every little act
A real hero touches the lives of so many,
And yet they may never realize
That they truly are worthy
To be called
HERO.

StarCMC
12/28/05

For my heroes.


827 posted on 12/29/2005 7:17:10 AM PST by StarCMC (Old Sarge is my hero...doing it right in Iraq! Vaya con Dios, Sarge.)
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To: StarCMC

Beautiful poem and presentation. Thank You.


828 posted on 12/29/2005 7:25:22 AM PST by Soaring Feather
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To: bentfeather

LOL -- I sort of cheated and used the same frames as on the Dante's prayer one -- sorry I'm too lazy! He he he!


829 posted on 12/29/2005 7:27:48 AM PST by StarCMC (Old Sarge is my hero...doing it right in Iraq! Vaya con Dios, Sarge.)
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To: StarCMC

Never noticed that to be honest. I think that frame is good to go for lots of poetry.


The poem is really so true, our troops want only to do their job and walk meekly in the crowds.


830 posted on 12/29/2005 7:30:13 AM PST by Soaring Feather
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To: bentfeather

Today it was snowfall
under a sky growing blue,
a moment that makes you wonder
where
such a contrast could come from.

Too warm to snow,
I was feeding the birds
with no coat on,
the sparrows and chickadees
impatient.

But there it was.
I poured birdseed,
looked up at the blue sky,
and thought about God's sense of humour.


831 posted on 12/29/2005 9:15:20 AM PST by Knitting A Conundrum (Act Justly, Love Mercy, and Walk Humbly With God Micah 6:8)
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To: Knitting A Conundrum

Good afternoon, KAC.

Lovely. Great images. And what a sense of humor you have as well. ;)


832 posted on 12/29/2005 9:39:01 AM PST by Soaring Feather
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To: bentfeather

Watching the transformation
has been such a painful thing,
from curious, open, clever child,
tow haired and bright eyed,
to sullen adult
who has done everything just right
to be unhappy,
sad,
miserable,
looking everywhere but where he should
to fill that gap in his heart.

Remembering my youth
so long ago,
I have hopes
he will choose the light.
I fear
he will not last long enough to reach that point,
or get caught in the snares of his own hand.

My golden haired boy,
I weep for you,
not in anger
for the little wrongs you have done,
the small thefts,
the stupid decisions,
the drinking,
the lies,
but for the child who stole my heart
so long ago,
motherless and so in need,
little boy lost
who I will never see again.
Like David weeping for Absalom,
I kneel on the ground,
keening.

O Lord,
Hold him in your hands,
send your angels to watch over his steps,
and in the end,
may he find his way to you,
as surely as you led me.


833 posted on 12/29/2005 7:13:15 PM PST by Knitting A Conundrum (Act Justly, Love Mercy, and Walk Humbly With God Micah 6:8)
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To: Knitting A Conundrum

Beautiful prayer. Thank You.


834 posted on 12/30/2005 4:36:39 AM PST by Soaring Feather (January 1, 2006)
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To: HopeandGlory; WayzataJOHNN; Texas Songwriter; SAMWolf; snippy_about_it; laurenmarlowe; fish hawk; ..

Good morning everyone.

835 posted on 12/30/2005 4:40:29 AM PST by Soaring Feather (January 1, 2006)
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To: All

Honour's Martyr
by Emily Jane Brontë

The moon is full this winter night;
The stars are clear, though few;
And every window glistens bright,
With leaves of frozen dew.

The sweet moon through your lattice gleams
And lights your room like day;
And there you pass, in happy dreams,
The peaceful hours away!

While I, with effort hardly quelling
The anguish in my breast,
Wander about the silent dwelling,
And cannot think of rest.

The old clock in the gloomy hall
Ticks on, from hour to hour;
And every time its measured call
Seems lingering slow and slower:

And oh, how slow that keen-eyed star
Has tracked the chilly grey!
What, watching yet! how very far
The morning lies away!

Without your chamber door I stand;
Love, are you slumbering still?
My cold heart, underneath my hand,
Has almost ceased to thrill.

Bleak, bleak the east wind sobs and sighs,
And drowns the turret bell,
Whose sad note, undistinguished, dies
Unheard, like my farewell!

To-morrow, Scorn will blight my name,
And Hate will trample me,
Will load me with a coward's shame?
A traitor's perjury.

False friends will launch their covert sneers;
True friends will wish me dead;
And I shall cause the bitterest tears
That you have ever shed.

The dark deeds of my outlawed race
Will then like virtues shine;
And men will pardon their disgrace,
Beside the guilt of mine.

For, who forgives the accursed crime
Of dastard treachery?
Rebellion, in its chosen time,
May Freedom's champion be;

Revenge may stain a righteous sword,
It may be just to slay;
But, traitor, traitor, from that word
All true breasts shrink away!

Oh, I would give my heart to death,
To keep my honour fair;
Yet, I'll not give my inward faith
My honour's name to spare!

Not even to keep your priceless love,
Dare I, Beloved, deceive;
This treason should the future prove,
Then, only then, believe!

I know the path I ought to go;
I follow fearlessly,
Inquiring not what deeper woe
Stern duty stores for me.

So foes pursue, and cold allies
Mistrust me, every one:
Let me be false in others' eyes,
If faithful in my own.


836 posted on 12/30/2005 6:34:48 AM PST by Soaring Feather (January 1, 2006)
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To: All

A Prayer
by Sara Teasdale

Until I lose my soul and lie
Blind to the beauty of the earth,
Deaf though shouting wind goes by,
Dumb in a storm of mirth;

Until my heart is quenched at length
And I have left the land of men,
Oh, let me love with all my strength
Careless if I am loved again.


837 posted on 12/30/2005 6:37:26 AM PST by Soaring Feather (January 1, 2006)
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To: bentfeather


This day,
like so many others,
dawned,
and I awoke,
filled with the normal aches and stiffness,
and stumbled out of bed
my usual disheveled self
and yet,
this day which seems like so many others,
with the business of getting breakfast started
and making sure everybody is up
it is a day like no other,
another gift from you, O Lord,
God-breathed with the chance
to feel the touch of your hand on my life,
to taste the joy that comes from having these times alone with you,
for having the gift of children and husband to care for
and any one else you send my way,
for knowing that life is not a walk in the darkness,
but a marvelous journey,
sweet, sad,
frightening, exciting,
a gift of discovery
where, if we choose,
we can walk it with you,
and in the end, come home to you at last.

Teach me Lord,
to know that you are always with me,
even when the road is rough,
or busy,
or noisy,
or sad,
or happy,
and never to forget my final goal
to rest in your loving arms at last.


838 posted on 12/30/2005 10:02:20 AM PST by Knitting A Conundrum (Act Justly, Love Mercy, and Walk Humbly With God Micah 6:8)
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To: Knitting A Conundrum

Beautiful prayer for today.


839 posted on 12/30/2005 10:37:34 AM PST by Soaring Feather (January 1, 2006)
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To: All

“Substance Over Symbolism”
Quote by Rush Limbaugh
Poetry by bentfeather

I put on my red dress today
It shows I support the troops
This symbolism like the peace sign
are works that are dead.
So shallow, so thinly veneered
so pleading for attention
the sadness under the red dress syndrome
a hollow empty action.

How hard it is to put a red dress on
this question I would ask.
It’s better to reach deep down
the purse and donate some money
to an injured service man or woman.

It’s action done without the brag
that holds the greater meaning
Who will remember a red dress worn
to show support of troops
When Cindy Sheehan trashed her dead son
touting her well spent grief.

A media harpy is her bag
look at me, look at me, and my grief
when so many others have the same plight
and move quietly through the days
to bury their loved ones ne’er to forget
the price their loved one paid.

A cold grave on homeland soil
the families, wrapped in tears
going home with folded flags
from the heroes grave.

No symbolism here
the agony deep inside
a hero from the country side
the ultimate price they paid.

Shake a hand, thank a vet
go the parades, let your support
be genuine without the bragging to masses
Silence runs deep it’s been told
which I believe to keep.

Drop the red dress symbolism
and show some substance instead.

12/30/05





840 posted on 12/30/2005 11:12:07 AM PST by Soaring Feather (January 1, 2006)
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