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Archive for July, 2012

The Heart has narrow Banks
It measures like the Sea
In mighty – unremitting Bass
And Blue Monotony

Till Hurricane bisect
And as itself discerns
Its insufficient Area
The Heart convulsive learns

That Calm is but a Wall
Of unattempted Gauze
An instant’s Push demolishes
A Questioning – dissolves.

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Sonnet 23 – The Loads Of Life

The highway that I travel flows with life –
An artery that pulses passing cells,
Whose problems at this time are scant or rife,
And neither glance nor study full truth tells.

A truck, uncovered, may reveal its freight,
Or, boxed, hide contents passers cannot know.
And some, so over-burdened with the weight
Find hills impassable or at least slow.

The hearts of men all bear the living’s stress
One may be massive while the second’s light.
Next pass may bring reverse, a quick duress
Like darkness falls in an oppressive night.

Each carries, lead or feathered, his own load,
And lesser may help laden down life’s road.

—————————————————-

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2012.

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Deutsch: Lord George Noel Gordon Byron

Lord George Noel Gordon Byron (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


When We Two Parted

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow –
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o’er me –
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well –
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met –
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee? –
With silence and tears.

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The Griffon Vulture, soaring.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Buzzard

Distant V
Black, floating, alone –
None desires.

——————–

Thirst Quencher

Short pipeline;
It moves liquid fast –
Plastic straw.

——————–

Let’s Hope Not

No!  Never!
A Venus fly trap
My big yawn.

——————–

* 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, 2012.

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Bishop Trelawny.

Bishop Trelawny. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


……And Shall Trelawny Die?

A good sword and a trusty hand!
A merry heart and true!
King James’s men shall understand
What Cornish lads can do.

And have they fixed the where and when?
And shall Trelawny die?
Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men
Will know the reason why!

Out spake their captain brave and bold,
A merry wight was he:
‘If London Tower were Michael’s hold,
We’ll set Trelawny free!

‘We’ll cross the Tamar, land to land,
The Severn is no stay, –
With “one and all,” and hand in hand,
And who shall bid us nay?

‘And when we come to London Wall,
A pleasant sight to view,
Come forth!  Come forth, ye cowards all,
Here’s men as good as you.

‘Trelawny he’s in keep and hold,
Trelawny he may die; –
But here’s twenty thousand Cornish bold
Will know the reason why!

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In 1688, King James II imprisoned Jonathan Trelawny, a
Cornish bishop, in the Tower of London.  He was later
acquitted and released.  But a Cornish army marched as
far as Bristol before that.  The poem was written in
1824 and is the Cornish national anthem even though it
has some historical inaccuracies.  The poem is also known
as “The Song of the Western Men”.

 

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MOON

(Photo credit: Nick. K.)


You And Me And The Silver Moon

Just you and me and the silver moon –
That’s heaven on earth;
That’s paradise.
Just you and me as we, silver, spoon –
That’s sugar and cream;
That’s sweetest spice.

Just you and me and the sandy shore –
That’s heaven on earth;
That’s paradise.
Just you and me and we want no more
Than holding hands and
Our kisses, thrice.

Just you and me and the lapping wave –
That’s heaven on earth
Without a price.
Just you and me, it’s the “us” we crave –
That’s all on this earth;
It’s paradise.

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2012.

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The Rover

A weary lot is thine, fair maid,
A weary lot is thine!
To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,
And press the rue for wine.
A lightsome eye, a soldier’s mien,
A feather of the blue,
A doublet of the Lincoln green –
No more of me you knew
My Love!
No more of me you knew.

‘This morn is merry June, I trow,
The rose is budding fain;
But she shall bloom in winter snow
Ere we two meet again.’
He turn’d his charger as he spake
Upon the river shore,
He gave the bridle-reins a shake,
Said ‘Adieu for evermore
My Love!
And adieu for evermore.’

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Sally Ride, the first American woman in space.

Sally Ride, the first American woman in space. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Sally Ride

(1951-2012)

Gather ‘round, all little girls
And watch the shuttle as it hurls
A pioneer to fly in space –
A woman – first to test that place.

And so she went as women go
All other places here below,
And ride she did, that Sally Ride,
A first – a model, and a guide.

For others, she set forth a trail
To follow after rocket’s tail,
That plume that feathers with a roar.
Now, women with the eagles soar.

So Sally Ride rode shuttle first
Atop the rocket’s sudden burst,
And faces glowed with inner pride
Because of woman, Sally Ride.

——————–

*Sally Ride was not the first woman in space,
but the first American woman to go into the
final frontier.  In 1983, at the age of 32, Ride
went for a ride in the shuttle Challenger.

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2012.

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Sneezing Limerick II

The sneezers that sneeze that are squeakers
Cause women to lift up their sneakers.
It could be a mouse
That’s haunting the house –
In that case there’s no time to be peekers.

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This poem was motivated by Linda Willows’ question,
“What about the squeakers?” in a comment below my
first sneezing poem:
https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2012/07/19/the-feller-named-greg-by-dennis-lange/

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2012.

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Who’s There?

Telling jokes
When no one listens:
Knock, knock, knock….

——————–

But Normally

Strange, but you
Can’t see through a crack
In windshield.

——————–

Pass Time

I pass trucks
Going up a hill.
Down, they pass.

——————–

* 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, 2012.

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