Tag: Moments

Three Hours – 3 PM

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment 
WHEN the rain goes by, the smell still hangs
 heavy, like an entrusted secret;
 sweet, like cracking voices still singing
 fresh where the polychrome bends

YOU gave me a glimpse
 of your hidden heart:
 the clouds still passing, and the rain still falling,
 yet the grain still waving in your changing eyes

MAGICAL, like the story you live in,
 mystical, like the respect we all deserve --
 the rain will pass my friend, it will,
 and while the world's still big, it's
 no bigger than all that's still there
 for you to find

Three Hours – 8 AM

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems1 Comment 
FEEL it now, feel it,
 breathe in, breathe out;
The world knows your name, but
 not how to pronounce --
There was a day coming,
 it's here, it's here;
And maybe there's more, now, than
 doubt and fear

YOU gave up your heart, and
 you gave in to those
 who said, "all you will be is
 the path that you chose" --
But yesterday isn't
 in charge of today,
 and the popular roads aren't
 the last only way --

SO find yourself driving
 towards where you would be;
Come out of the alleys of
 shorn misery,
Go out to the country,
 fill up, and reach high:
 the meaning is yours,
 because you

 signify

Then There’s That Moment…

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems2 Comments 
Then, there's that moment when I see
You sitting there, across from me,
Just gazing into empty air
And my look turns into a stare

For love is like a treasured song
That just in time, we hear once more:
And you - you're still my favorite sight,
And will be

Now, and


Evermore

Our Day

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment 
We walk towards the distant prospect,
Water on our each bare feet;
Quiet in our mien and aspect,
Cool amid the midday heat.

Past the throngs of unknown people;
Tourists, squatters, residents -
Unaware of destination,
Fully in the present tense.

Let the wind change but a moment,
Let the crowd just fade away:
It's our beach, and it's our pleasure,
And, for once, it is our

Day

Recoiled

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems5 Comments

He thought they’d had, for them,
A quite good day.
He took the garbage out
Before she asked, complimented
Her on the new hair style, and
Listened for some time after
Inquiring as to her day

He tried to make eye contact as
She was taking unusable things out
If the refrigerator and moving them
To the garbage can, smiling on
Occasion to show his sympathy with
The vicissitudes of that day’s battle

He commented on how selfless she
Always was, and how people took
Advantage, sometimes; as she finished
Drying her hands after washing them,
He lightly placed his hands on her shoulders

Whereupon she recoiled, turning at
Once to pass that off as a gesture of
Busy procedure on to the next task, while he
Realized with the first dim realization of
A new forever that
What used to be good enough for her

Wasn’t good enough any more

The Constant Battle

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems3 Comments

Her back hurts, so she cannot rest,
And work is suffering these days;
She’s daily there, within a haze
Travailing, tired and depressed

But when she can, she breaks away;
She sits alone somewhere offsite,
And for one moment, doesn’t fight
The constant battle that’s today

unspeakably

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment 
 There was that day, that hour,
 You can still recall it,
 When all of life's possibilities
 Washed over you like breeze on bare skin,
 And you felt more alive than
 You had ever felt, or thought you could feel;
 And you knew, suddenly, exactly what 'joy' is,
 A word you'd only heard in songs before,
 And never experienced, at least, not really.
 But that brief time, momentous as it was,
 Seems impossible to convey to others
 As any description of it seems
 Trivial, empty, and meaningless.
 There was a blue sky, and 
 Wind blowing the tree branches, and
 A bright autumn sun...

 But what makes anything meaningful
 Is not the thing, itself;
 It is our interaction with it,
 How it changes us, and 
 How sometimes change is unspeakably
 Wonderful.