Archive for the ‘Touched by an idea’ Category

Treasures held up by dirt soiled hands
gray ore, red-brown stones, sticks and strands
incorruptible jewels found
dug up, discovered off the ground

Hidden from the jaded hunter
with stakes too high for a punter
true innocence rediscovered
next to a rock, green moss covered

yldara  040607120

Is it bright colored lights,
in a dark empty room?
Or black velvet nights
made to dispel the gloom?

Is it peals of laughter
coming from thin air?
Or a fly for a spider
trapped in its lair?

Perhaps it’s a way out
of such a terrible plight
Then again, maybe not
just a trick on one’s sight

yldara 0919992001

for a savior or a hero,
while storms and tornadoes
pop up like crop circles.
To try and soothe its ails
Nature has finally brewed up
quite a concoction. Floods,
typhoons and earthquakes,
just a hint and a warning.
What fury awaits all fools
who dare not heed the call.

yldara 2001070454

On a surface smooth, reflected
flickering under the light’s spell
light wraps around dark, forms a shell
casting shadows then projected

yldara  030707849

I would wake up early, dear cousin
To bid the moon and stars goodnight
If wishes were but a dime a dozen
I have all morn to mope just right

I would tell that nether denizen
To stop pouncing on my mind today
If wishes were just a dime a dozen
I won’t from my chosen path stray

I would in my thoughts be brazen
And in my words be purposely daft
If wishes were all a dime a dozen
I will do so with practiced craft

I would in a coat of arms emblazon
My very own brand of stylish humor
If wishes were still a dime a dozen
I won’t be swayed by a silly rumor

I would at days end then, my cousin
Be truly brave and shed no tears
If wishes were not a dime a dozen
I have all night, to curb my fears

Yldara 241006127

When it gets too hot, too dreary,
and I get caught in a traffic jam;
during those times, I am weary,
and feel a need to go on the lam…

Let me remember PEACE,
as she greets the early morn;
as a memory of a tender kiss,
let her sweet music, carry on.

At times when I am so sad,
because of what I have lost;
when the world seems mad,
without a care, who suffers most…

Help me remember LOVE,
with the wind upon my face;
as rainclouds hover above,
let me be held in her embrace.

Then, when I no longer care,
for all the comforts of this life;
When sad music is in the air,
to cut my wounds, like a knife…

Make me remember HOPE,
as the sun smiles upon her;
so I will learn: to live, to cope
and in my faith, be stronger!

yldara 0919952007

In the hushed dark of night
a lullaby floats up in the air.
An Asian woman’s forlorn song
to her dead children. Swallowed up
by the mudslide, gone and lost
but not in her heart. She echoes
the cries of others. All over
the world are grieving souls.
Their kinfolk sacrificed by chance
in nature’s quest for man
to heed a call. Warning signs
brewed up, in an attempt to show
and tell, what ails the earth.
As nature waits on man
sadness sweeps the world.

yldara/m.stanphill 2802070619

Words
thought of
cleverly…
Purpose driven
and aimed to touch hearts.
Disguised to beguile souls
it enthralls and leads you on.
Until spellbound you are now hooked
held captive by your curiosity -
lost in the make-believe world of fiction.

yldara   090207359

What mask should I wear today,
in this masquerade I am to play?
Should I just wear grief per se
or put on a happy face and be gay?
Maybe I will choose sadness as prey,
and wear a frown and gloom all day…

I really must make a choice its true,
How do I deal with things I need to do?
How do I decide which one to pursue?
Which ship to sail and be its crew?
My actions affect more lives than two.
I may have to rethink my life anew.

I do have many faces that I can show,
none may reflect the real me to know.
A myriad of emotions, away I stow –
stored and hidden, they silently grow.
Do look into my eyes like a window,
and find the real me, my soul’s echo.

For in life we face so many crises.
In triumph or defeat, we have choices.
When we are left to our own devices,
we live to learn from its consequences.
But until we unmask our many faces…
we cannot sing to God, His due praises.

yldara  080207820p 

A heart that beats is to a man
bestowed to him, a thinking mind
Man’s not a tree, he is much more
a seeker of truth, not to be blind

Blessed with reason and a soul
though all comfort from him taken
Man’s not a tree, he is much more
he can get up, and not stay broken

Tenderness and care is to a man
Wisdom to choose, right from wrong
Man’s not a tree, he is much more
Man needs to share and to belong

Life and hope, man is given free
as pain for others, he must feel
Man’s not a tree, he is much more
made not of wood, but of flesh real

yldara 170806458