ANGEL VOICES AT DAWNING

I hear it gently,
and I mentally
take note of the lilting song.
Angel voices sing
the soundtrack of Spring.
Their chorus is loud and strong.

Morning brings their sound,
and it is around
dawn’s first light that I hear it.
A poet’s heart sees
the living beauty
within euphonic spirit.

I begin each day
the exact same way.
I am thankful for this gift.
My whispered prayer
rises through the air;
as their harmonies uplift.

 

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Presented at dVerse Poets Pub – Meeting The Bar: Alouette

Advertisements

SELF-IMPOSED EXILE

What’s the difference? Running to or running from, the shortest distance between two points is still an escape in any book. Separating oneself from the fray plays upon your angst and ire. This poetic fire in your belly leaves a smelly taste in your mouth and there’s no way out except up. Corsica has sent her eviction notice; malcontents are not welcomed! So remove your hand from your waist-coat and smoat the day you decided your muse was more important than the process. A beg of forgiveness and a sharp wrist slap, every mishap screams for release. Exile is as puerile as you may not have imagined. Standing on the periphery serves no purpose. Escape from your ego. Take off to your refuge. It is the textbook “No Lose” scenario written for a poetic Lothario!

why hide away words?
your actions speak just as well.
Tell the world you’re here!

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge – Day #27: “Take off”

FEBRUARY 3, 1956 – 10:42 A.M.

I was in no position to be born,
in the breech; feet first, a fresh “face”
coming to the fore on that frozen February morn.
Until then, my days on earth up to the day of my birth
were a placid float, suspended in muted serenity.
But, the anguish of my poor mother would serve
to provide shocks to propel me into action,
gaining traction in this field of my amniotic shield;
a permeable hideaway of liquidity.
But damn the masked man in white, he startles me;
a sharp slap sets my ass to flame and a tearful wail to my lips.

 

Written for THE SUNDAY WHIRL – Wordle #41

IN THE GARDEN OF THOUGHT

Attracted by lingering memories,
or drawn by a heart felt compassion,
we come together to fashion our thoughts
into some semblance of conformity.
The enormity of that which we wish to convey
touches the hearts and souls of other such
thinkers planting their seeds to flourish;
in poetic bloom we are nourished.
One to another we join; all invited and welcomed.
A home for such ideas in the garden of thought.

A place of such communion does exist. The venue is called POETIC BLOOMINGS and it is a garden of poetic expression shared by many. All are welcomed and encouraged to write.
Open to all poets of every skill level and age. All that is required in the garden is to have fun and stop to smell the poetic roses!

This poem was written to the prompt: Community over at WE WRITE POEMS. Thanks to Marian Veverka for the inspiration.

LOVE STORY


Monday comes along, rainy.
Gloomy and overcast and all past
indiscretions overwhelm. At the helm
of the mastship, safely docked
in the harbor secure and warm, nestled.
Settled in from a long night’s journey
and yearning for a good and proper
good morning. No storm warning
is signaled, for danger does not prevail.
I set sail in your tranquil waters,
making my own waves come alive.
Passions churning, turning for port
time and again. Wrapped in the comfort
of a loving shore. The more the ship rocks
the more at peace we become.
The hum of the waters lapping,
the white caps rolling, rolling.
The wave crests. The ship finally rests.
Safe in the love of a good and gentle
woman, our day begins. Monday comes
along, rainy. Gloomy and overcast but
it does not cast a pall on the morning.
Loving each morning; every good morning.
No need for warning; the days begin.

OCTOBER SAVES

Fighting a battle often lost in the darkness
of a weary mind. There is no rest there.
Cursing the single candle lit to offer
its illumination; to infiltrate this
mental stagnation. Accursed slumber
why do you wage against my will?
Will you release me like the leaves
of October’s colorful flurry, left
to scatter in the cool winds from place
to place; a migration to discover the peace
that I crave. You have found me, October.
You have extended your lifeline in fine fashion,
a saving assist for one clamoring for control
over heart and soul,
over heart and mind.
I clutch your hand as I am flung over
the edge of reason. Your season is here.
You want me near, October, where I belong.
Anything else would be just wrong.

BELLA MIA

I see you in the morning mist, a vision;
my tired eyes welcome it. And your gown flows
in a gentle cascade, my only mission
is to take you up into my arms and show
you all that my love can teach you; a lesson
your mind will learn, but your heart already knows.
In close silhouette, your beauty is revealed.
My longing for you cannot be concealed.

SILENCE OF THE NIGHT

It seems that sleep is elusive,
a sometimes thing that fights my will.
It’s disruptive and effusive;
but wide awake, the room is still.

I listen to the lack of sound,
a gentle respite all around.
The silence of the night soothes deep,
I do not hear it when I sleep.

PSALM FOR FLIGHT 93: IN VERDANT PASTURES

He gives them repose; a long journey ended
and all who had risen to the occasion knew
their rest was well earned. Not how they would
have wanted, but God never asked them
what they wanted. He gave them what He knew
they could handle. And so, brave and stoic,
extremely heroic they were at peace with
the decision that was made. Honor in their way;
on their terms. A rest well earned
and on that day they learned their limitations.
Strong enough to defend their nation.
In control on the command, “Let’s Roll”.
In verdant pastures, the Shepherd
snatched them up to rest peacefully.
They needed and wanted nothing more.

THE POETRY IN MY MUSIC #5

So far, my obsession has been with “Dreams” (A DREAM FOR MY HEART/YESTERDAY’S DREAMS) and now “Eyes” (OPEN MY EYES/SUNSET EYES). Something about this song rubbed certain people the wrong way and that affected my writing in a negative way for a long time. Opinions as to why are welcomed. The lyrics, as always, are listed below. The title is the audio link.

SUNSET EYES

Melody and Lyrics by Walter J. Wojtanik – © 1985

Listening  to  the  sea  birds  call, and  thinking,
as  a  hint  of  nightfall  fills the  skies.
Off  on  the  horizon,  girl, I  see  you .
looking  deep  into  your  Sunset Eyes.

I can  feel  your  amber  arms  caress  me.
the smile  upon  your  face, it  soothes  and  warms.
Glowing face  of  angels,  you   possess  me,
Sunset Eyes protect  me  from  the  storm.

Your sparkling water’s flashing,
your waves are softly crashing here on the sand.
Charging, then returning back to the sea.
Your gentle hands keep falling,
your spraying softness calling, calling my name.
Sunset Eyes return your love to me.

Why is it you tease me with your wonder,
Make  me want to take you in my arms?
Unashamed, you cast this spell I’m under.
Sunset Eyes embrace me with your charms.

Your face is always changing,
expressions rearranging there on the sand.
Chameleon of colors there in the skies.
Our looks are ones of sorrow,
but we’ll be back tomorrow, standing in time.
Gazing deep into your Sunset Eyes.

Listening to the ocean’s song, and thinking,
as a hint of nightfall fills the skies.
Searching my horizon, girl, to see you.
It’s so good to see you, Sunset Eyes.
It’s so good to love you, Sunset Eyes.

I’m so glad I love you, Sunset Eyes.