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~The Dragon Flies' Lair~Poetry Thread XXIV~
January 2, 2006
| bentfeather/Poets of the Lair
Posted on 01/02/2006 7:52:08 AM PST 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©
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TOPICS: Poetry
KEYWORDS: classicpoetry; dragonflies; dragonflieslair; freeversepoetry; haiku; lair; musiclyrics; originalpoetry; prose
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To: GeekDejure; WVJudyInJupiter
541
posted on
02/14/2006 9:40:14 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: WayzataJOHNN; All
The Fairy Dance
She held the forest under a spell, The Queen Fairy of the Glen. The spell was cast in an act of retaliation.
The forest of the Glenn frozen from hem to hem since the day she cast her spell blast by blast of icy air, crystal beads all things evil in the weeds. With groaning from the lily pond, agony of frozen bliss spoken from the frozen lips of warted toads, and lizard frogs.
She whispered in the Glenn a curse of wrath upon his golden head, in unhappiness he would rue, the day he withdrew, his loving words from the air and left her alone living there.
A century of frozen doom she uttered between parched lips. Your golden head will not rest until the forest has been blessed by the child of the Glenn.
The child of the Glen ragged, thin, and broken of limb hovered near the castle wall, fearful of being seen at all. Discovery of this waif lad, quite by a stroke of luck by Magic Merlin of the Old. His tutelage and care given over by My Lady of the Glenn, her Lord did not return to her, for the battle did him in. Her broken heart could not go on to fight the devils of the Glen And so it came to pass the curse was laid out upon the grass. My Lady aged became unkempt, the child uncared for left to forage in the dell where the deer and creatures dwell.
Her shattered heart all but stoped beating in her breast. Her faint heart turned to quest no more, for the her lover in the Glenn, her golden knight, of The Order of the Glenn.
One eve as My Lady fell to rest upon the golden crested bed a dream upon her came, a dream that they would rule again. My Lady left her bed and walked upon the carpets red following the glowing light, taking her to her delight.
In her dream my Lady heard, her knight survived the dreaded foe and lived to go another day. For on this day the curse did end, when home again her grand knight rode the highway to the Castle Grand of Glenn Gaul Way, the perfect land.
bentfeather (c) 02. 14. 06
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542
posted on
02/14/2006 1:26:31 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: Knitting A Conundrum
Excellent chapter, I Corinthians 13. I suspect part of my love of poetry was forged in my youth through reading the Old King James version. To me, it conveys the truth in such beauty.
Psalms is also loaded with beautiful verses.
Also KUDOS on your poem to your husband. To me it conveys that the little things in life are the sweetest.
To: ScubieNuc
I suspect a lot of people younger than I am who didn't grow up with the KJV will lose a lot just in how words go together...I prefer to study other versions, but the poetry when it's done right, like in the psalms is outstanding.
Love IS in the little things, day after day, in sickness and health, through crisis and joy, and the commitment and choices we make. IMHO!
544
posted on
02/14/2006 2:23:12 PM PST
by
Knitting A Conundrum
(Act Justly, Love Mercy, and Walk Humbly With God Micah 6:8)
To: Knitting A Conundrum
Your poem of love was excellent, and so true on so many levels.
Love is the morter amid the stones of life, and what you build is shaped by that love into palaces grand, or cottages snug.
545
posted on
02/14/2006 3:51:16 PM PST
by
WayzataJOHNN
(Happy New Year to everyone in this delightfully strange family of the Lair)
To: WayzataJOHNN; All
Time to cuddle up. Night all.
546
posted on
02/14/2006 7:08:52 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: Knitting A Conundrum; ScubieNuc; WayzataJOHNN; HopeandGlory; SAMWolf; snippy_about_it; ...
Good morning everyone.
547
posted on
02/15/2006 1:57:44 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: bentfeather
Good Morning.
This is a part of a longer piece on the Passion I am working on:
Waiting
The smell of blood was in the air, the smell of fear, the smell of death
as the slow process of the execution continued,
long after those who came to taunt got bored
and wandered off back into the city, the day's excitement over.
It takes time to die from pain and exposure and the need to breathe,
a tedious process.
The soldiers made themselves as comfortable as possible,
looking up at their charges from time to time, settling down for the long wait.
Dice passed the time, some, and the same stale jokes,
and daydreams about what to do once they left this crazed country,
Some onlookers stayed behind, women mostly.
The soldiers glanced their way from time to time,
occasionally exchanging a comment about this one or that.
These were not the type of women that looked at soldiers, though,
but instead, their eyes and hearts stayed focused on the man from Gallilee.
They held each other close, this knot of women
Chaperoned by a young man, almost a boy, sad and determined,
all bound by love and fear and shock and grief,
the need to pray, the need to mourn, the need to witness.
Swatting a fly, the centurion looked away from the women,
and thought about his mother, and his father's farm,
and wondered, not for the first time, why he became a soldier
548
posted on
02/15/2006 5:31:53 AM PST
by
Knitting A Conundrum
(Act Justly, Love Mercy, and Walk Humbly With God Micah 6:8)
To: Knitting A Conundrum
Very good Knitting.
Puts one right there at the scene.
549
posted on
02/15/2006 5:38:16 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: bentfeather
Thought of the Day
Warren Miller said, "Don't take life seriously
because you can't come out of it alive."
Today is Wednesday, Feb. 15, the 46th day of 2006 with 319 to
follow. The moon is waning. The morning stars are Neptune,
Jupiter, Pluto and Venus. The evening stars are Mars, Saturn,
Uranus and Mercury.
550
posted on
02/15/2006 6:03:06 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: bentfeather
GD touching Judy = Physical Orgasmification !!!
GD reading bentfeather = Mental Orgasmification !!!
GD does 'em Simultaneously = Car Dee Yak A Rest !!!
Further Instructions: DNR !!! ;-))
551
posted on
02/15/2006 12:47:12 PM PST
by
GeekDejure
(LOL = Liberals Obey Lucifer !!!)
To: GeekDejure
You're so bad Geek!
You don't need further instructions. ;-))
552
posted on
02/15/2006 12:49:27 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: bentfeather
I Can't Make You Love Me Correction. No one is every/ever happy in a one sided love.
553
posted on
02/15/2006 1:06:03 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: bentfeather
To: Blackirish
Hello and Welcome to The Dragonflies' Lair.
555
posted on
02/15/2006 1:31:05 PM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: bentfeather
Why I Burnt Down Hennesseys Pub Ta Save Me Life!
I woke up wid a head a thick as day old mud,
an breath ta knock the dairy mans orse over.
Me eyes, bloody red they was, like red meat n clover,
hin fer some reason me knuckles is raw wid blood.
now, I was sure me jacket hadnt smell so bad I put it on,
but by mornings light ya notice the vomit, just there.
Hin me pants was a sight, the seat needed patchn wid care,
or me bits might see ta light o day wit me passed out o da lawn.
Me moneys spent, the whiskeys gone, like me mind,
hin Iva bangn ead like ha pounded dustbin lid.
Ta Landlord says pay up, or hell soon be of me rid,
hin Iv na reason to doubt a notice one day ta find.
I lost me motorcar somewhere ta weeks ago,
hin cant remember where hin when I did.
Lost twenty quid ta get me sink unstuck a dat whiskey lid,
hin him telln me he was put off by ta smell ya know!
Me head aches most days now, except when hin a pub,
and then its na too clear then either, blurry, bleery from beer.
Ta barmaid hit me last night, screamn I should be home I fear,
hin den I realized hit were me wife, now dats a scary rub!
I crawed ahome a hurtn, and me clothes dont fit so well,
hin deres five kinds of lipstick scattered here hin dere!
I tionk hit were a party, in some bottle littered lair,
life used ta be so easy, till the pub moved in, hin now its hell,
556
posted on
02/15/2006 9:32:42 PM PST
by
WayzataJOHNN
(Happy New Year to everyone in this delightfully strange family of the Lair)
To: WayzataJOHNN; Knitting A Conundrum; HopeandGlory; Texas Songwriter; SAMWolf; snippy_about_it; ...
Good morning everyone.
557
posted on
02/16/2006 6:09:40 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: WayzataJOHNN
Man, you is in rough shape! LOL
I like your writing with the brogue.
558
posted on
02/16/2006 6:11:15 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: All
Thought of the Day
it was Steve Wozniak who said, "Never trust
a computer you can't throw out a window."
Today is Thursday, Feb. 16, the 47th day of 2006 with 318 to
follow. The moon is waning. The morning stars are Neptune,
Jupiter, Pluto and Venus. The evening stars are Mars, Saturn,
Uranus and Mercury.
559
posted on
02/16/2006 6:42:38 AM PST
by
Soaring Feather
(~www.proudpatriots.org~Supporting Our TROOPS~)
To: bentfeather; fatima
Mary, Mary, Grieving Mother
O Mary, Mary, grieving mother,
in the shadow of his cross,
How deep the sword cuts in your heart now,
O such love at such a loss.
O Mary, Mary, grieving mother,
Joining prayer and pain with him,
How deep the sword cuts in your heart now,
As the sky grows dark and dim.
O Mary, Mary, grieving mother,
Calm and resolute you pray
Though deep the sword cuts in your heart now
Your eyes on Jesus only stay.
O Mary, Mary, grieving mother,
The Father lends you strength to stand
As deep the sword cuts in your heart now,
Those with you weep and hold your hand.
O Mary, Mary, grieving mother,
Your wounded son cries out with death
As sharp the sword cuts in your heart now,
As he gives up his last breath.
O Mary, Mary, grieving mother,
Holding your poor battered Son,
Embrace the sword within your heart now -
But know the Father's will is done.
O Mary, Mary, grieving mother,
Covering his poor battered head
How deep the sword within your heart now
As you tuck him in his final bed.
O Mary, Mary, grieving mother,
Your sorrow reaches Heaven's height,
Martyred in your sword-pierced heart now -
Angels weeping at the sight.
(My mind is getting ready for Lent, I see...)
560
posted on
02/16/2006 8:18:57 AM PST
by
Knitting A Conundrum
(Act Justly, Love Mercy, and Walk Humbly With God Micah 6:8)
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