. . . I've been told that I write novels for email messages. Perhaps this is the way to go. I'll try to make each entry, or Gemstone, a "precious" one. On mediocre days, all I might be able to produce is a "semi-precious" entry. In any case, an entry might be a "neat" Gemstone--something that is uniquely mine.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Poems to Share

Every year our local high school publishes a collection of poems that students have written and submitted. My son has three of his poems published in this edition, not submitted because he wanted his name in lights, but submitted because he was offered extra credit by his teacher, who told the students that anyone published would receive extra credit. No matter his intent, I loved what he wrote and wanted to share them.

Beauty in Islands
Same environments,
Different ways,
Different tools,
Different clothes,
Different games,
But all are connected by one great common factor:
Their culture is music and dance is their art.
They have different instruments
With different sounds
And different movement to their songs.
The islands of Hawaii, Tahiti, Aotearoa, Fiji, Samoa, and Tonga
Make up the Polynesian Triangle,
Where beauty is endless,
Natural resources are never useless,
And the culture has not been forgotten.

A November Dream
Do I know you?
Have we met?
No, your face I could not forget.
We haven't met, 
But I know you.
Your face is unforgettable too.
I saw you
In a dream, I think.
You rescued me from Hades' brink.
I don't remember
Who you are,
But you shine brighter than the stars.
And now I look
Into your eyes.
I see a soul that could not lie.
I look at you
And match your gaze.
Your eyes are bright as summer days.
I look at you
And I see me.
I can recall a time of glee.
Now I remember
You are me.
And you have come to set me free.

The Desert Sands
Ages of dust have covered the earth
With fear and death and flesh and birth.
I know there was a city here—
A city built on love and cheer

A peaceful people settled down.
They saw the forest all around.
They said, "We'll build a city here.
A city where we need not fear."

The houses grew up from the trees.
I look, and I can almost see
The happiness that once was here.
But here I stand and feel no cheer.

The flesh of seven hundred bore
The flesh of seven hundred more.
A nation started rising here.
A nation born of love and cheer.

The time flew by. The nation grew,
But all I see is brown and blue.
A revelation strikes me here:
The sand and sky are void of cheer.

And so I think, and then I see
In my mind's eye, a sea of trees.
A civil war is in the forest here.
The trees are burning; death is near.

The birds have ceased their rapturous song,
But no-one knows what had gone wrong.
The fields, I see, were red right here.
The earth was stained with blood and fear.

A thousand years or more have passed.
That nation, sadly, did not last.
A people was forgotten here.
A people plagued by death and fear.

What once was earth is earth again.
I close my eyes and feel their pain.
They say there was a city here.
I sit to rest...and shed a tear.

No comments: