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The grass is brown. Oh, Mother, why?
The rain won’t fall and so it’s dry.

The river’s slow. Oh, Mother, why?
The clouds are missing from the sky.

The deer are thin. Oh, Mother, why?
The grass is gone and some may die.

It’s dry! It’s dry! Oh, Mother, why?
We’re in a drought; for rain we cry.

Why is there drought, oh, Mother, why?
Without a rain, the weeks go by.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

I write a blog
Much like a log –
I muddle daily through the fog. 

Some poems are good;
And some are wood
To toss and burn – I really should! 

Huge catalog
Means sometimes, dog,
And some with voices like a frog.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving.
O, but with mine compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving!
Or if it do, not from those lips of thine,
That have profan’d their scarlet ornaments
And seal’d false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robb’d others’ beds’ revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov’st those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee.
Root pity in thy heart, that, when it grows,
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
By self-example mayst thou be denied!

 


Sheepdog And His Sheep

Outnumbered,
But proves to be the
Aggressor.

——————–

 

I Love You

See the I?
Staring from love you –
Like an eye.

———————

 

Fade The Black

The dark night
Has a thousand eyes.
Each, light one

——————–

Sheepdog – photo by Barun Patro at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mf6A37Q/Billiards+3

Love – photo by Marja Flick-Buijs at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/ovFXsPa/Love+you+ilustration

Fade – photo by Michael and Christa Richert at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/ooFlFvU/colourful+candles

——————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

I’m traveling now to Las Vegas
With doubts of the saying that’s famous.
It stays there; it’s through,
Is certainly not true
For those who find something contagious. 

I’m traveling now to Las Vegas
With doubts of the saying that’s famous.
It’s certainly not true
None knows what you do:
God watches, remembers; He’ll pay us.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015

 

Should you, my lord, while you pursue my song,
Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung,
Whence flow these wishes for the common good,
By feeling hearts alone best understood,
I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate
Was snatch’d from Afric’s fancy happy seat:
What pangs excruciating must molest,
What sorrows labour in my parent’s breast?
Steel’d was the soul and by no misery mov’d
That from a father seiz’d his babe belov’d.
Such, such my case. And can I then but pray
Others may never feel tyrannic sway?


In midst of ugliness and hate,
A place that’s bleak and bare,
It may be hard to stand alone
And be the beauty there. 

When barren frame surrounds the bud,
And it’s the lonely breed,
Its graceful singularity’s
An even greater need.

———————————————–

photo by Miguel Saavedra at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/dJVd3Z/Lonely+flower

———————————————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

I, the poet William Yeats
With old mill boards and sea-green slates,
And smithy work from the Gort forge,
Restored this tower for my wife George;
And may these characters remain
When all is ruin once again.

 

The unions, at first, were a good thing.
The owners were greedy and would cling
To more than they needed
And workers were “bleeded”,
Till unions, in turn, did the same thing.

———————————————

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

The desert
And the distant moon –
Both are bleak.

— 

One silver
And the other red –
Still the same.

— 

All alone
They speak, each to each,
As brethren.

——————–

photo by Cristiano Galbiati at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/meLsRbe/Desert%27s+moon

——————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

 

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