HomeLeaving A TraceWhat I Know For SureHidden Treasures

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Butterfly Effect








ƁƲTTƐƦƑLƳ  ƐƑƑƐCT


ི♥ྀ ♥ ི♥ྀ♥ ི♥ྀ ♥ ི♥ྀ ♥ ི♥ྀ ♥

Ƒlusђεd

Paiղtεd Lady

Traղsparεղt Єlεgaղcε

Gracεful wiղged Kalεidoscopε

Lovεly

Sђadows of Etђεrεal Blusђ

Єvεr-cђaղgiղg in fligђt

Harlεquiղ Hue

Diviղε

  ི♥ྀ ♥ ི♥ྀ♥ ི♥ྀ ♥ ི♥ྀ♥ ི♥ྀ ♥


     ♥  © ஆεlεɳa  ~.^




FOR DODGE WRITES


Pleiades



Pleiades
Paint the sky with stars
Picture perfect night-glow
Portal to  paradise
Promises passion delight
Pale blue fluid eyes reveal
Perfumed jasmine blooms
Piano feast of love and joy 
under the liquid moon


                                       


Pleiades
cluster of stars:
a cluster of more than 300 stars in the constellation Taurus,
several of which are blue-white giants visible to the naked eye


Today’s Poetry  prompt is Pleaides

posted for

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Divine After Glow



Divine Afterglow

The moon-glow softly lit the clouds
Revealing crowds
The cluster stars
Both near and far

Tree lined brilliant silken vines
Were in align
Spice wine to sip
A pleasure trip

This was divine or so it seems
Sailing through beams
A wee more grape
To sweet escape


                                                                       



Prompt From Dodge Writes
Prompt is finish this line with a Minute
Using This First line:
The moon-glow softly lit the clouds
http://dodgewrites.blogspot.com/2011/03/todays-prompt-is-finish-this-line-with.html  

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Cheeky Elfin




Cheeky Elfin



Under the sleepy-eyed moon
The leafy forest bower abounds
The woodland gnome gazes towards the auroral sky
Whilst the misty pool reflects his naughty pleasure
In as much as this mystical wonderland 
may comfort and astound
It is under this sleepy-eyed moon
That a mischievous imp is crowned


♥ ஆεlεɳa ~.^



This is my
poem for
one-shot-poetry-wednesday

A fantastic stage to share
your poems & prose.


Prompt From Dodge Writes on March 8th
USING THESE WORDS
Pool, misty, moon, leafy, bower, Gnome,
wonderland, sleepy, pleasure, auroral



Sunday, March 20, 2011

Is stat ue?



There once was a seagull named Yappy

Who flew above crowds fairly happy

He stood along with the rest

On the statue thought best

For all the others he believed

Were quite crappy


LOL!


♥  © ஆεlεɳa  ~.^


this poem is my response to
the One Stop Poetry Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. The prompt
was shot by photographer & poet James Rainsford. He is the featured artist
today on One Stop Poetry.





Saturday, March 19, 2011

Merrow Churchyard By Moonlight

This is a Poem by 
my Great, Great Grandfather & Poet
FRANK JOHNSON, English born poet
September 2. 1810 - February 17, 1892
The Village Of Merrow
Scene, England,
-- a county bordering on the mouth of the River Thames.
Time, --towards the end of the first half of the present century.
Merrow Churchyard by Moonlight
Now  Dian’s  orb was hung on high,
And all so sunk in rest,
A stranger to the world had deemed
Its habitants were blest.
Who, with the sorcery around
Of a night so calm, so clear,
Could have borne to think that its least content
Could have ever known a tear?
A night indeed! -- so hushed, serene,
Scarce a dead leaflet stirr’d;
If, in the far, a cry, a chime,
Who would not such have heard.
The snowy moon that lives aloft
Seemed all alone to bide,
As if the only thing awake,
And watching all beside.
I could but think of day’s bight orb
Were made alone for light,
Man might have done without the sun,
For the sake of such a night.
Imagine my surprise while researching my
Family Tree a few short years ago to learn that my
Great, Great Grandfather was a published
writer and poet!  Frank Johnson…
author of Lashed to the Mizzen,Giles and Janey, or
The Kindly Gentleman, and The Village Of Merrow,
It’s Past and Present.  I was thrilled the day I received
a 1st edition copy of,The Village of  Merrow printed
by Lovell Printing and Publishing Company. 1876.


FRANK JOHNSON, English born poet, emigrated to LennoxVille, Quebec
FRANK JOHNSON was the son of ROBERT JOHNSON and MARTHA TOVEY.
==============================================
The Magazine of Poetry and Literary Review - Page 421
edited by Charles Wells Moulton - American poetry - 1892

FRANK JOHNSON was born September 2nd, 1810, in London, Eng. He had barely entered upon his third year when he was sent to a preparatory school at Hampstead. From thence having completed his eighth year, he was transferred to a classical school in London, where after a seven years' training in Greek, Latin, French, Italian and mathematics, he was sent to Edinburgh University. Here, however, his ambition to be an actor, brought his studies in Edinburgh to a close. It was now that his naturally good constitution began somewhat to fail him, through too close an application to his self-directed studies, and with a view to recruit him, he was sent by his father, a medical practitioner, into Hertfordshire. It was here that he betook himself to the study of the flora of the fields, and it was during his rambles in the lanes and wastes of Hertfordshire, that he familiarized himself with the poverty and struggles of the underpaid labourers on the soil, a familiarity which, some years afterwards, he turned to good account in his "Village of Merrow. "

It was in his twenty- fifth year that, again with a view to thoroughly establish his health, and to wean him from his still lingering ambition to be an actor, his father proposed to him an extended course of travel, a proposition which was embraced with enthusiasm. In less than a month he embarked in a small South seaman, bound for a lengthened cruise in the Indian and Pacific oceans. It was thence that he acquired the terrible experience that enabled him to write his "Lashed to the Mizzen." After a cruise of upwards of two years, unbroken by a single night on shore, Mr. Johnson, on the vessel touching at New Zealand, abandoned her and resided along with the cannibals, thirty miles up the Hokiawga river, on the lookout for a chance passage to Australia, whence after a further detention, he embarked in a brig for Valparaiso, eventually reaching Buenos Ayres, by crossing with a guide the Andes and the Pampas. This was followed by extensive travel in the leading countries of Europe. Thus far his life appears to liave been one that few would have quarrelled with, but now the picture was about to change.

He invested quite a little fortune, bequeathed him during his travels by his grandfather, in the New Zealand Land Company's unfortunate Cook Straits Settlements. It would be a long story, but one by no means dishonouring to Mr. Johnson to show how, for upwards of eight years, the principal share in upholding the Port Nicholson Settlement, fell to him. It must suffice to say, that after almost incredible trials and disappointments, he had finally to retire with the loss of two-thirds of his capital and fearfully worn, into the bargain.

After his return to England, he farmed for a few years in Pembrokeshire, whence at the suggestion of his then still surviving mother, he removed with his four boys to Lower Canada, now the Province of Quebec. He is still living on the farm near Lennox Ville, acquired by him some thirty years since, with his eldest son who looks after the cultivation of the land. He still continues to be a welcome contributor to the local press, and his writings are regarded with favour. As a citizen and colonist Mr. Johnson holds a high rank.


Thursday, March 17, 2011

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Humanity and Hope For Japan


Benevolent Prayer


May The Wings of Angels
Comfort your gentle spirit
And may Heaven then
open its arms wide so your
Essence may fall softly into
Everlasting joy and peace,
Allowing your heart
To meld into pure
Love And Joy




(*
♥ )
“Not until we connect to the Earth.
We will ever consider It worth saving”
(*
♥ )


“The Earth can be our Heaven
If we just surrender to her charm”

♥   ஆεlεɳa

http://onestoppoetry.com/
Hosted by Leslie Moon



Sunday, March 13, 2011

Morning Reflections


No one sees the private tears
The constant ache inside
The everlasting prayers
To have you by my side

No one knows the pain through
Loving thoughts of you
No one feels my emptiness
Life’s helpless void now true

Knowing that I loved you
Knowing that I cared
Knowing this is not enough
To see you through despair

So my prayers  each day are simple
They are lasting, they are true
I wish to see your smile
Perhaps a glimpse of you

Each morning grief envelops me
It seems there’s no escape
Only dreams and fantasies
Are hopeful turns of fate

Shared memories are endless
So too deep-seated pain
Memories are constant
And are all that still remain


♥  © ஆεlεɳa  ~.^

 
This poem is my response to the 
 One Stop Poetry Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge
The prompt was shot by photographer Fee Easton, 
featured today on One Stop Poetry


Friday, March 11, 2011

Hope





❀༻♥ ༺❀༻♥ ༺❀༻♥


Winds of heaven
Send everlasting peace
Allowing


Our hearts
To meld into
Pure love


❀༻♥ ༺❀༻♥ ༺❀༻♥

 
                                                                         ♥  © ஆ εlεɳa  ~.^




 Posted for the first JLWrites Poetry Prompt link!
"Jl's Blog promises to expand your imagination"
Todays prompt, septuplet has fourteen words. It is broken between two stanzas that make up the
fourteen words. Each stanza can have seven words each but that is not a requirement.
Both stanzas deal with the same thought and create a picture.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...