B&P’s Shadorma: “For the Blessed and Those Who Need” #amwriting #poetry #shadorma


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this B&P’s Shadorma prompt on the holiday season and Dickensian goodwill towards men. 

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Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

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Gathering with, 

Our families a bond, 

There, despite —

The distance. 

Sharing our lives together

Meeting, laughing, joy.

—-

Siblings, 

Connecting; though years —

In childhood, 

Have passed by. 

Fiances, partners, meeting —

New loved ones enfold.

—-

Families, 

They grow and alter. 

Babies too, 

Added and —

Some family sadly they pass, 

Onto their forever home.

And on the —

New Year, we gather, 

Again to —

Ring in a —

Better year, with promise; hope, 

Less pain, more grace known. 

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So I pray, 

For all of you, when —

You pour the —

Champagne and —

Kiss your most beloved one, 

Think too, of suffering

Those whose holidays, 

Have less cheer, are hard

Those who fight

Have trials

Those without home, wealth, and —

Know not where food comes.

—–

For those who, 

Are trying to feed, 

Little mouths. 

They go with —

Out; but they need energy,

To work, to provide.

—-

For those who’ve, 

Demons inside, they can’t —

Struggle more, 

And survive.

For those who don’t know there’s hope

Think and aid them all.

—-

Help comes in, 

Many ways; talking, 

Mere words which, 

Keep the edge,

Far away; give friendship, gifts —

Something showing thought. 
—-

You can help, 

Volunteer to kids, 

Charity, 

Read with them. 

You can do many thoughtful

Things; don’t forget.

—-

For those snug, 

At home and gifted to know, 

Warmth and love. 

Abundantly

Blessed; may we keep the —

Season in our hearts. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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Poem: Free Verse – “The Persistent Consistence of Water” #amwriting #poetry #audio



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If the words keep on dripping, the drops from a tap;
A problem, no plumber can seem to fix.

And drops gather close, become oceans of water. 

And swimmers keep treading, doing laps through drops of water. 
Drips and drops, no solutions and no answers.

Problems with solutions; problems never existed — solutions solve nothing.

But to mix up a cocktail or solve some chemical equation.

There are no answers, if you’re terrible at math. 

Or drink, until the solution is being drunk.

Keep drilling away, chiseling, at the stone edifice.

You know you’ll carve something,

Or perhaps, the water does the carving?

Deposits sediment and cuts through rocky banks.

Making rivers deep and wide, 

Building-up, forming, layers of silt and rock,

Until a Canyon has formed; red-sand glow, Arizona sky,

Grey rock interspersing, with shimmering crystal white; 

Glimmering blue-santorini water flows through.

Perhaps, sometime a millennia ago.

Waters made of drops of water.

Drip dripping from the sky through humanities history, 

The weather of a million dark and stormy nights.

Oceans of droplets, oceans eroding rock in rivers with deltas and gorges; black and deep.

Deep deep the secrets these gorges do keep,

The water disappearing, chasing the blackness it seeks,

Drip dripping droplets and they fall down the window.

Where little children trace the drops with their tiny fingers.

And breathing in steamed windows, 

See the O’s made by their precious little mouths.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.