I never knew I was a fan of frogs’ singing
until I moved into a home by a
lake.
Rough voices color the night while
mingling
with lights dancing off of the water’s
face.
In unison the choir stops to admire the
stars,
to imagine the sound of joined voices in
space
A whisper bounces back from galaxy’s
edge
ribbit! ribbit! echoing through the Milky Way.
Written in response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:
This Is Your Song
Take a line from a song that you love or connect with. Turn that line into the title of your post.
“The Lyrics”
by Leslie Noyes
My head is
full of
lyrics
they roll
through
my soul like
honey and
thunder.
These words
soothe and attack,
seek and destroy,
reduce and elevate.
My only
defense
is to
join my
voice to
the melody,
dance
to the
beat,
or sob.
I’m reduced to tears every time I hear “Eleanor Rigby” by The Beatles. I’ve highlighted my favorite line.
Eleanor Rigby
Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people
Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?
All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?
Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear
No one comes near
Look at him working, darning his socks in the night when there’s nobody there
What does he care?
All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?
Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people
Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
No one was saved.
All the lonely people (Ah, look at all the lonely people)
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people (Ah, look at all the lonely people)
Where do they all belong?
THE BEATLES lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. “Eleanor Rigby” lyrics provided for educational purposes and personal use only.
Copyright © 2000-2016 AZLyrics.com
we’ve all
been there,
done that;
inadvertently
chosen
the wrong path
or even worse,
knowingly picked
the greater
of two evils,
and still
others never
had the chance
to see the
paths of
separation
distinct for a
few, a blur to
many.
why for some
are such choices
ruinous,
unforgiveable,
irredeemable?
and for others,
merely sleeping
police in
destiny’s way?
happy accidents
of birth,
color, and
privilege
create a
line delineating
the merely flawed
from the
tragically
ill-fated.
we know our place
even if we refuse
the claiming.
she’d never been adept
at hanging lefthand curves;
hitting the apex just so,
leaning tight into the turn.
she’d fall out too soon,
or overshoot, rattling
her delicate equilibrium.
but let her lean right,
oh my! and the gods smiled
at the smooth transition,
steely nerves, graceful form.
she pondered a world of
only right hand curves
and ended up exactly
where her ride began.
Peace, people.
Written in response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:
Remember the seven cardinal sins? You’re given the serious task of adding a new one to the list — another trait or behavior you find particularly unacceptable, for whatever reason. What’s sin #8 for you? Why?
First students, let’s review those pesky seven deadly sins:
My personal favorite–lust,
followed in order of the sins
to which I’ve succumbed
in order of frequency
from greatest to least:
sloth, (yes, i’m wicked lazy)
pride, (and darned proud of it,)
gluttony (i’ll toast again to that!)
with just a soupçon of
greed, wrath, and envy,
to make me truly interesting.
I nominate intolerance
to take its rightful
place among these
numbered transgressions.
Divisive and shaming,
a barrier to peace;
bigotry makes no
loving concessions.
Peace, people.
none of the cards on the stationery
aisle said exactly what needed saying.
they offered only sweet platitudes:
wishing you well,
sending our prayers,
hoping for a speedy recovery.
i wanted a card that named names and
kicked ass:
that sonofabitch needed hanging!
who the hell do you think you are?
you deserved that broken tibia!
with a picture of daisies on the front.
Peace, people.
show off,
center stage,
hog the spotlight,
all the rage.
take a bow,
curtain call,
extend your roses
to passion’s thrall.
humility,
a useless trait
when bright accolades
exacerbate.
every ounce
of art demands
blood of heart and soul
grandstands.
In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt
Kick it: What’s the 11th Item on your bucket list?
There’s a hole in my bucket,
Or so I believe,
The older I get
The bigger the peeve.
I cross one item off,
And up crops another,
You’d think by my age
I’d not even bother.
Yet if I were counting
From top to the bottom,
Item eleven would be
Seeing Paris in Autumn.
Peace, people
left alone with
thoughts unwieldy
too intense for
this bright day
crushed beneath
thoughts of envy
will they always
hold this sway?
gathered close for
future’s telling
slowly ticking in
mad men’s hands
stop the clock and
start the living
mark the place
then heave the sand.
prayed, oh please
don’t let this nature,
keep me wrapped in
jealousies
sifting through grayed
grainy photos
begging for my
soul’s surcease.
In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:
Witness Protection. When you do something scary or stressful–bungee jumping or public speaking, etc.–do you prefer to be surrounded by friends or by strangers? Why?
No shrinking violet, am I
Yet the circumstances do decree
If an audience of strangers or friends
Is preferable to me.
When speaking to a group
Of unfamiliar folks my
Sense of timing is impeccable
And I’m full of witty jokes.
At karaoke, though, I find
The better I know the crowd
The more relaxed my vocal chords
So I sing out loud and proud.
If ever I should bungee jump
I want six friends around
To serve as my pall bearers
In case I splatter on the ground.
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 