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Archive for May, 2015

I’ve watched my blog odometer
For several weeks, and now
This poem or next will make it turn
To a nice hundred thou.

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

 

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Within this ample volume lies
The mystery of mysteries.
Happiest they of human race
To whom their God has given grace
To read, to fear, to hope, to pray,
To lift the latch, to force the way;
But better they had ne’er been born
That read to doubt or read to scorn.

 

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…..The Deaths Of Bonnie And Clyde

The rabbits had nowhere to run or hide.
Their notoriety had grown in weight.
Brief were the lives of young, wild Bonnie and Clyde. 

For three short years, they roamed the countryside.
They robbed and killed and moved from state to state.
The rabbits had nowhere to run or hide. 

Their youth and love made their spree magnified.
Their crimes caused fear, but they did fascinate.
Brief were the lives of young, wild Bonnie and Clyde. 

Each time they killed, the search intensified
Their case was now on ev’ry lawman’s plate.
The rabbits had nowhere to run or hide. 

A trap was set out in the countryside
Their habit brought the hares to-ward the bait.
Brief were the lives of young, wild Bonnie and Clyde. 

The bullets buzzed and stung like bees – they died.
They had to know that this would be their fate.
The rabbits had nowhere to run or hide.
Brief were the lives of young, wild Bonnie and Clyde.

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

 

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To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness. 

For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is God, our father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
In Man, his child and care. 

For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity, a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress. 

Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace. 

And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk, or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell,
There God is dwelling too.

 

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I’ll Keep My Distance

I shudder
To think of the heights
And tough climb.

— 

E’en the moon,
A silver sliver,
Seems so small.

— 

But beauty
Is stark, outstanding.
I’m in awe.

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photo by Laura Shreck at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/myow81O/The+Matterhorn%21

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* 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/

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

 

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Is there, for honest poverty,
That hangs his head, and a’ that;
The coward-slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a’ that!
……For a’ that, and a’ that,
………Our toils obscure, and a’ that,
……The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
………The man’s the gowd for a’ that. 

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin gray, and a’ that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man’s a man for a’ that:
……For a’ that, and a’ that,
………Their tinsel show, and a’ that;
……The honest man, though e’er sae poor,
………Is king o’ men for a’ that. 

Ye see you birkie, ca’d a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, and a’ that;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He’s but a coof for a’ that:
……For a’ that, and a’ that:
………His riband, star, and a’ that,
……The man of independent mind,
………He looks and laughs at a’ that. 

A prince can make a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a’ that;
But an honest man’s aboon his might,
Gaid faith, he maunna fa’ that!
……For a’ that, and a’ that,
………Their dignities and a’ that,
……The pith o’ sense and pride o’ worth,
………Are higher ranks than a’ that. 

Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will for a’ that,
That sense and worth, o’er a’ the earth,
May bear the gree, and a’ that.
……For a’ that, and a’ that,
………It’s comin’ yet for a’ that,
……That man to man, the world o’er,
………Shall brothers be for a’ that.

 

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……………………
Ambience

A bucket of color, a bucket of fruit;
A feast for the eyes and healthy to boot.
And some dipped in cream look like mountains with snow,
They taste like the nectar that only gods know. 

The lady beside me smells sweet of perfume;
I stroke her soft cheek as a song fills the room.
I say to myself as I’m falling for her,
My senses are simply five kittens that purr.

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photo by Marja Flick-Buijs at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/my0Iqgg/Summer+fruit

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

 

 

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Here come the line-gang pioneering by.
They throw a forest down less cut than broken.
They plant dead trees for living and the dead
They string together with a living thread.
They string an instrument against the sky
Wherein words whether beaten out or spoken
Will run as hushed as when they were a thought.
But in no hush they string it: they go past
With shouts afar to pull the cable taut,
To hold it hard until they make it fast,
To ease away – they have it.  With a laugh,
An oath of towns that set the wild at naught,
They bring the telephone and telegraph.

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Lupin

Sunlight climbs
A tiny tower –
Pink glory.

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Primula

Two-colored
Bouquet of bouquets,
God-gathered.

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Pansies

Aren’t pansies.
For us, they always
Bleed colors.

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Lupin – photo by Maciej Lewandowski at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/oGGRpma/Lupin

Primula – photo by Michael and Christa Richert at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/p6eFPty/colourful+primula

Pansies – photo by Jay Simmons at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nx8V8wc/flowers

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* 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/

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

 

 

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The Soul that hath a Guest
Doth seldom go abroad –
Diviner Crowd at Home –
Obliterate the need.

And Courtesy forbid
A Host’s departure when
Upon Himself be visiting
The Emperor of Men –

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