BEATING HEART

BEATING HEART
"Many a beating heart is silenced by the tyranny of indifference." ~Michael Faudet

THE PUREST PLACE

THE PUREST PLACE
"Retrace your steps and go back to the purest place in your heart… where your hope lives. You’ll find your way again.” ~Everwood (Trust Your Journey)

The Bible says

"a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of things which he possesseth."

31 August 2021

I THINK OF YOU

By Crispina Vedra-Diego
Happy birthday Diegs!!
    
In the morning when I see the rising sun,I think of you
In the daytime when I hear the singing bird,I think of you.
In the noontime when I taste the best menu,I think of you.
In the dawn time when I feel the cooling breeze,I think of you.
In the evening when I say my prayer,I think of you
In the bedtime when I retire to rest ,I think of you.

Source: FB
September 1, 2021

RESTING PLACE and PROTECTION

Royal Botanic Garden
Wollongong 
August 26, 2018

GOD, be my RESTING PLACE and MY PROTECTION 
In hours of trouble, defeat, and dejection...
May I never give way to self-pity and sorrow,
May I always be sure of a better tomorrow,
May I stand undaunted come what may
Secure in the knowledge I have only to pray 
And ask MY CREATOR and FATHER ABOVE
To keep me serene in HIS GRACE and HIS LOVE!

~Helen Steiner Rice

30 August 2021

A SMILE AFTER A CRYING BOUT

By Myr Reyes E. Tejada

I believe that there never has been
A smile sweeter and more alluring
Than one flashed after a crying bout
Everyone would agree without a doubt
Its charm is that of the rain in spring
With a rainbow in the sky appearing.

A timid smile after a tearful burst
Is the sun peeping through nimbus clouds
Traces of tears shimmer like diamonds
Misty eyes soft and tender as the dawn
They glisten like the dewy leaves in the morn
Could melt any man’s heart of stone.

Lips gently trembling a little bit
Displaying a shadow of pearly teeth
A hint of dimples adorns both cheeks
Flashing on and off like twin secrets
Cheeks tinged in a blush of radiant pink
I can’t do justice to such beauty with my ink.

© Myr Reyes E. Tejada
15/08/2021

I MISS THE CITY


It's been so long I haven't been to the city. 
I miss the tram ride,  I miss the shopping spree. 
I miss my gallivanting days, and my touring duties.
I miss my walkabouts, and  jaywalking around the  roundabouts.
I miss my daytime adventures 
to museums, parks and the  harbour.
I miss stopping by at the library and  sneaking in the gallery. 
I miss my wanderings in the gardens and strolling around the Opera House 
I miss the train ride, the bus ride and the ferry ride.
I miss going out to enjoy the fun out in the glowing sun.
I miss my random and spontaneous gaiety. 
I miss the food I crave in a  fancy restaurant and in my favourite cafe. 
City is life. So is beach and ambling  by the sea. 

©Leah C. Dancel 
August 31, 2021
SH-Australia

29 August 2021

CHOOSING THE RIGHT WORDS

By Jeffrey Cejero

A poem is a rainbow painted in the sky
With its colorful smile hanging up high.

Like fire, a poem is warm and shining.
Like a firefly that's glowing in the evening.

A poem is made from thousands of bees,
Sweetest words of honey buzzing in trees.

Its words are as fragrant as the wildflowers
Where birds are singing and cascading in showers.
…..

A poem connects all the spaces
Unifying the universe in all places.

It has the power traversing time
Connecting any point in rhyme.

A poem is as many as the twinkling stars,
As mysterious as the glorious red Mars.

Its words are so powerful like the Big Bang
While the black hole fang starts to clang.
…..

Just like seasons, a poem should make you wonder to ponder,
Whizzing, whishing the autumn, winter, spring and summer.

A poem must be everyone’s favorite chocolate.
Dripping, dropping, drinking in a faucet.

A poem is the best medicine that cures a heart in pain.
Anyone can be healed that even science can’t explain.

To write a poem, one must choose the right words.
It's a golden rule in all poetry worlds.

Photo credit: google

©Jeffrey Cejero
8/29/2021
4:40 pm
#arspoeticapoetryform09

Source: FB

IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

A Tribute To JV and Myra 



On Our Wedding Day
August 30, 2014

Ours was a collegiate romance.
At the school library where it all begun. 

We came out fresh from high school; 
Our dreams were full of anticipations.
We set our goals towards the future; 
We're determined to attain success 
or face a failure. 

Hard at work and studies in mind; 
We knew nothing about the cupid's sign.

Until one day at the library,
Myra and I were destined to meet. 
And there, our fate was sealed. 

Myra, in fact, was my classmate 
She's nice and kind;
Demure, petite and sweet.
While I was the quiet and shy type;
A gentleman by and large, a good guy. 

It was love at first sight 
That drew us close together 
after our first meeting.
It grew and blossomed into 
a beautiful friendship.
We cultivated tenderness 
and nurtured  trust 
for each other. 
For seven years we remained steady 
and committed sweethearts;
A relationship unscathed. 
Surreal to speak, we kept 
composed, cool and disciplined. 

We believed that there's a high force 
who guides us...
Back in the days of courtship, 
We're under the radar of my future in-laws and mine.
Myra's Dad had always been my buddy. 
Her Mom was as affectionate and motherly. 
I knew I was a medium in a petri dish of their loving surveillance.
In the end, I found favour in their watchful eyes.
I won their hearts
After seven long years of building 
a symbiotic rapport with them all. 

Destiny would play a big part 
in our lives together. 
We're blessed with a blissful marriage 
With Liam and Klint as the testimony 
Of our strong commitment for each other.
Our children are the best things that ever happened in our lives. 

The vow we pledged didn't go for naught. 
Our love will stay, seven years 
and more ... 
beyond... 
The cord that binds us 
will hold us stronger 
in years to come. 
Our faith will keep us anew 
for times till eternity. 

HAPPY 7th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY
MY DEAREST WIFE MYRA!!!

Words and concept 
©Leah C. Dancel
August 30, 2021
SH-Australia 
Background Facts
©JV Dancel Occena
Wedding Anniversary Poetry 
A Tribute to JV Dance Occena
and Myra Trimocha Pico Occena 
A Toast To You!!!!

Photos Supplied by JV Dancel Occena 


September 1, 2021

27 August 2021

IN OUR SONG



By Dimple Lobo Corcino Opina

Every line, every word that the singer sings,
Brings me back to the past when you lived your life,
It hurts so much not to forget to remember,
The times when we're together even for a short while.

All treasured pictures hanging on the walls,
In the four corners of our small abode,
Is where I spent my longings for your love,
A place which your laughter I painted with tears in my eyes.

Some days I wake up with feelings of despair,
As I saw you in every frame of my now -broken dreams,
I'm a lost soul wondering why I'm still here,
Knowing that when you're gone is the end of everything.

Every moment I listen to the song we used to sing,
I find comfort to swallow all the pain of hurting,
Although it hurts to keep the songs playing,
I find solace in every lyric I'm hearing.

©Dimpskzie
August 28, 2021

Author 


FAMILY IS HOME

By Don Luman-ag


Happiest birthday Ma'am Norma Culhi! 🎉 Here's another poem I specially wrote for you.💓

We cannot choose our family
Nor choose where to be born
Is it some kind of destiny?
Or just completely random?

But regardless how you see it
One thing shall stay forever true
Your genealogy you cannot edit
Whether or not it pleases you

Family is a place that nurtures
And loves us without conditions
Gives us comfort and protection
It's the place that we call home

We should be proud and grateful
Because families are wonderful
Love them back for all the love
Not all men were blessed to have

© Don M. Luman-ag 
August 18, 2021


26 August 2021

JOURNEY



By Rado Gatchalian

if i can rewrite our stories
it won’t matter in the end if there are lies.
the truth is — there is no lying in loving you,
it’s easy to say it: but let time become our judge.
if one day i have to say goobye
may you choose to keep all the good memories.
when it’s time that you will have to give me flowers
there are stars above who will take it on behalf of me.
it doesn’t matter anymore if we had misfortunes
for tomorrow my songs will be played so that you can remember that my heart belongs to you.
if you won’t believe what I say
and you feel the pain inside
and everything is just a lie:
our God knows the content of my heart.
if you choose to close the door
and i can no longer come inside
i am here waiting outside
alone and lonely — but will always love and love.
i cannot blame you for hating me
but i pray that you will one day
forgive and love me again.

if this journey can still continue
i hope that i will have the courage to say goodbye and welcome.
if this journey needs to end
i hope tomorrow will bring a new beginning
 


SEIZE THE DAY


Photo : What A Beautiful Morning 
At home in my backyard 
August 11, 2021

By Melany Amante Mabao Maguindanao

Cool thoughts in my head
Warm feelings from my bed
Waking up to a brand new day
My heart has this much to say

Every sunrise is a surprise
Gratitude before your eyes
A reminder for your heart
Every day is a brand new start

The words that rocked me to sleep
The lullaby that plunged me to deep
Same words that woke me up
For this life, thank you God!

The vast and open sky
A place to live and die
Happiness is spelled each day
Our chance to seize today.

Source : FB 


TO MY MOTHER

By Edgar Allan Poe

To My Mother

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of "Mother,"
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you—
You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you
In setting my Virginia's spirit free.
My mother—my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.

 
Edgar Allan Poe
1849

Source: Academy of American Poets Educator 

25 August 2021

TO HELEN

By Edgar Allan Poe

Helen, thy beauty is to me
    Like those Nicean barks of yore,
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
    The weary, way-worn wanderer bore
    To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam,
    Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
    To the glory that was Greece.
And the grandeur that was Rome.

Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche
    How statue-like I see thee stand!
    The agate lamp within thy hand,
Ah! Psyche from the regions which
    Are Holy Land!

19 August 2021

THE ART OF AGEING GRACEFULLY


Think about it, you have EARNED this face.
Every line, a laugh shared.
Every wrinkle, a year survived.
Every age spot, a day that the sun shone on you.

Some women believe that as they age, they LOSE their looks. Oh my friends how wrong this is.
A beautiful young women is a happy accident of nature but a beautiful older woman? 
She is a work of art.

The Japanese have a practice whereby they fill any broken objects with gold, believing that something which is broken has earned its beauty and should be celebrated and decorated rather than discarded.

I feel this way about women.

It took a long time to find out who you really truly are. A long time. The acceptance that old age brings is freeing. It brings with it peace and happiness. 
Everyone knows, happiness looks good on us all.

Your body has been changing since the day you were born and will continue till the day you depart. Ride with it, accept it, embrace it. Be amazed by it.
Allow your face to represent your life, your stories, your joys.

Why choose to be an older woman fervently chasing youth, when you could be that older women who knows what she is worth and has earned every minute of her hard-won self-acceptance.

The trick with ageing successfully my friend, is to pay as little attention to it as possible.

©Donna Ashworth
From ‘To The Women’

Beautiful art by Autum Skye Autumn Skye ART 

Source: Ladies Pass It On 
via Women Over 60 Australia Friendship Group 

18 August 2021

WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS



WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS

I no longer live in dreams.
My dreams drifted in the torrent of despair;
Vanished into the mist of frustration;
Thickly condensed in the foam of irreconciliation. 

I no longer sleep with dreams. 
They turned into pillows of nightmares;
Easing in the tide of pointless struggles 
While clinging onto the rays of consolation. 

I simply give up looming dreams;
Surrendering them all to His will above.
What day may come, the night might hold; 
The answer to my prayers, suppressed. 

The dawn of fears raised, as the rising sun lifts;
A streak of feathered ambience hoisted adrift;
The conclusive Will of that majestic power.
It is He, who designed my soul 
For what the future holds. 

©Leah C. Dancel 
Copyright@2021
All rights reserved 
SH-Australia 
October 23, 2021
(Revised from the original manuscript
February 19, 2006, QH-Australia) 

Photo: Sky watching at Thirroul 
October 12, 2020
First Post Pandemic Lockdown
At the beach with my family. 




14 August 2021

RUN FREE

By Don Luman-ag
#randompoem02

Flowing rivers crystal clear
Chilly cool and clean crisp air
Horses running wild and free
Nature's perfect scenery 
         
Tall majestic mountains blue
Magnificently capped with snow
Breathtaking fresh green meadow
All year round wild flowers grow

Far away from all the cares
Lovely landscapes everywhere 
In this place my mind finds peace 
This is where my soul finds rest

If you would love to run with me
Come let us set our spirits free
Back to the state of purity
Wild unbridled liberty

© Don M. Luman-ag  
12.08.2021

S O R R O W


(Tanka)

Sorrow is a word
That each one of us defines
In different ways
And faced in varied methods
Challenged in number of moods.

It is a feeling
Of loss, regret, guilt and pain
A celebration
Of cold, dark and sleepless nights
Empty days of rain and storm.

It is a love song
Sung in low and mournful tones
A dove’s mourning croon
We don’t wish to hum along
And catch lonesome emotions.

It is a color
Of murky greys, inky blacks
Denotes joy’s absence
To other galaxies flown
Don’t know if it will return.

Lastly, it’s a taste
Of sour lemons, bitter gourd
Sans hint of sweetness
Spiced with salt, the taste of tears
Dashed with hot chili peppers.

© Myr Reyes E. Tejada
14/08/2021
All rights reserved.
Photo from Google

THE SHADOW OF YESTERDAY


Today’s battle is about to end
And time for my soul to mend.
My body worked the whole day
To forget the shadow of yesterday.

As the wings of the night started to creep,
Sadness in my heart submerged in the deep.
I peacefully watched the magnificent sky.
Cottons of gold and tangerine float high.

The birds are fairies of pure joy
As they fly high, invading to deploy.
The tiredness and sadness in my heart
Are dispersed in the air and began to part.

The sea is the mirror of the sky,
Showing its beauty to a passerby.
Sending its waves to the shores
Creating melodious music as it roars.

I sat on the shore and started reminiscing the past.
Sweet beautiful memories, how I wish it would last.
Her smiles, beauty and scent are left on this place.
The dusk, the sea and the sky,  I can see her face.

The birds are singing their best goodnight.
The cold grains of sand are stars bringing light.
The breeze made the sound of the leaves rustling.
The island is my heart where it keeps on beating.

This dusk is my only and lovely lady.
She treated me as her precious baby.
Because tonight, her embracing soothing darkness
Promises a new day that will fill my emptiness.

Photo credit: google

©Jeffrey Cejero
08/13/21
11:40 pm
FPB Member 

13 August 2021

FAREWELL, FAREWELL

Photo Frame  by Charito Soliva Dancel
Proverbs 19:21 Many are the plans in a person's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails. 

It wasn't  long ago,
When Nonoy and you 
bade goodbye to your loved ones. 
It was painful beyond grief 
to see you go. 
Tears came running down;
Falling on our countenance.
Sobbing and wailing
consumed our hearts;
We were inconsolable.

We gathered around you 
at each different time;
Gapped by nineteen days
We were forlorned and distressed.

Our prayers  were stifled 
by choking emotions.
Our supplications were heard 
When time was getting near.

The hymns you'd chosen
With heaviness, we sang.
Every song that you remembered, 
Daily you'd ask for us to sing. 

Even in your deathbed 
You still found the strength 
In guiding us the verses 
Of God's promises to which 
you longed to stand.

God's ways are incomprehensible 
To human's earthly understanding. 
They're wrapped in mysteries 
No man will never comprehend.
But only to whom He revealed 
Will find a way that they would be discerned. 
His loving kindness prevails 
And His mercy never fails. 

Sweet is the hour of prayer 
That lulled you into everlasting rest
When slowly as your breath faded 
The Angel came to take you away! 

Today is the fifth month since you left.
The pain we feel, remains unbearable.
It's a thorn that pricks our soul 
A thorn that breaks our hearts apart. 

Farewell to you our Dear Neneng
Forever far,  forever near 
Time will tell 
Till we meet 
Again. 

©Leah C.  Dancel 
March 14, 2021
A Dedicatory Poem 
In tribute to my Twin Siblings 
Eleazar C.  Dancel and 
Priscilla Dancel Bierbaum 
Copyright@2021
All rights reserved 
SH-Australia 

Comforting Words 

"Farewell is but a temporary phrase
Goodbyes a temporay space
Sooner or later but not too soon
Love will bind both in forever..."
~Winnie Dacoco-Carmona 

"May the Father of compassion and God of all comfort strengthen and comfort your heart in your time of sorrow." ~Vivian M.  Luman-ag

"Prayers I know will somewhat ease
For you to let go your heart's heaviness
The Lord will surely light up your darkest days
And you will savor His mercy and amazing grace."
~Teresita Mariano Barrera 

10 August 2021

ANCHORS AWEIGH



Stand Navy out to sea,
Fight our battle cry
We'll never change our course,
So vicious foe steer shy-y-y-y.
Roll out the TNT,
Anchors Aweigh.
Sail on to victory
And sink their bones to Davy Jones, hooray!

Anchors Aweigh, my mates,
Anchors Aweigh.
Farewell to foreign shores,
We sail at break of day-ay-ay-ay.
Through our last night ashore,
Drink to the foam,
Until we meet once more.
Here's wishing you a happy voyage home.

Blue of the mighty deep
Gold of God's great sun.
Let these our colors be
Till all of time be done, done, done, done.
On seven seas we learn
Navy's stern call
Faith, courage, service true,
With honor, over honor, over all.

Source: FB via Joffre Balce 
NB - Song taught by our Fourth Year Adviser Miss Evangelina Zosa at 
St. Mary's High School, Marawi City 
circa 1967-1968

Photo by Joffre Balce 

Note:
December 1, 1906, Baltimore Sun. (For those not nautically inclined: The saying "anchor aweigh" means the anchor is no longer touching the bottom and the ship is officially underway

Here's the full story of Anchors Aweigh

The Original Composition as a result of a collaboration between:

Lyrics: Cpt. Alfred H. Miles Music: Lt. Charles A Zimmerman

🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼

Stand Navy down the field, sails set to the sky. We'll never change our course, so Army you steer shy-y-y-y. Roll up the score, Navy, Anchors Aweigh. Sail Navy down the field and sink the Army, sink the Army Grey. Get underway, Navy, Decks cleared for the fray, We'll hoist true Navy Blue So Army down your Grey-y-y-y. Full speed ahead, Navy; Army heave to, Furl Black the Grey and Gold and hoist the Navy, hoist the Navy Blue (Verse 3, added in 1926): Anchors Aweigh, my boys, Anchors Aweigh. Farewell to college joys, we sail at break of day-ay-ay-ay. Through our last night on shore, drink to the foam, Until we meet once more: Here's wishing you a happy voyage home. The revised 1997 lyrics: Stand Navy out to sea, Fight our battle cry; We'll never change our course, So vicious foe steer shy-y-y-y. Roll out the TNT, Anchors Aweigh. Sail on to victory And sink their bones to Davy Jones, hooray! Anchors Aweigh, my boys, Anchors Aweigh. Farewell to foreign shores, We sail at break of day-ay-ay-ay. Through our last night ashore, Drink to the foam, Until we meet once more. Here's wishing you a happy voyage home. Blue of the mighty deep: Gold of God's great sun. Let these our colors be Till all of time be done, done, done, done. On seven seas we learn Navy's stern call: Faith, courage, service true, With honor, over honor, over all.

Source: Baltimore Sun

Link :

https://www.baltimoresun.com/features/retro-baltimore/bal-the-origin-of-the-navy-s-anchors-aweigh-20161201-story.html


THE ROCK, THE SEA, THE SKY

By Hedda Tady



Sometimes you are the sea : serene, you flow where the winds take you, creating currents of your own along the way. There are times when you are tumultuous; at other times, you are quiet. 

Sometimes you are the sky; you can choose to let the sun out, or to cover it with clouds. As day comes, so does night. It is a never ending cycle of light and darkness. As it should be. Imagine if you shine light the whole of eternity. Or, if you stayed dark into the end of time. 

Yet, there are also times, when you have to be the rock. There are times when you have to be the one that goes between the ocean and the shore. These are the times when you have to stand your ground and choose not to be somewhere else, regardless of how the waves smash at your edges, no matter how the winds shape you into something else, one small piece at a time. 

The rock.
The sea.
The sky.
One.
Pieces to a puzzle that ultimately merge into the universe that is as insignificant as it is meaningful. 

A beautiful mystery.
If we cared to see, to listen, and to embrace our many forms, at different hours and times of our lives.

Source : Fearless /Hedda Tady 
August 10, 2021


9 August 2021

RAIN, SLEET and SNOW

By Leah C. Dancel


Photo: Snow in Orange 
August 10, 2019

Another snow day tomorrow
Will it be deep or shallow?
Will it stay? Or will it go?
Rain, sleet and snow.
The cold snap is all I know
Will it freeze my breath? Or
Will it freeze me to death?
Rain, sleet and snow.
The wind is grating like the teeth of a cog
It's getting stronger by the hour
Harsh, howling like a midnight wolf
In askance of a maiden's hands.
Precipitating tears of sorrow
Turning snowflakes in ephemeral view
In a fleeting moment, they glide
Downward, hitting the ground
And anywhere they land 
By leaps and bounds.
Rain, sleet and snow.

©Leah C. Dancel 
Copyright@2019
Orange NSW
Australia
August 10, 2019

6 August 2021

THE DREAM I HAD

Photo: Orange, NSW
On The Street Where I Stayed

Lemmy once again woke me up. 
I turned on the light outside the porch
I peeped through the glass door
Lo and behold
Whiteness blanketed the street
And everywhere
I treaded gently, carefully
With that familiar steps
That I won't slip
Snow! Thin flakes invisible
Still keep coming down
Dancing on the air.
For the last past years
I kept coming for you
Snow at last had me in her heart
Mother Nature's blessed gift
Ahead of my three scores
And ninth day to bliss
Making my long wish to come true
A dream I had twenty years ago
When I gave winter another life
To bless … 

©Leah C. Dancel
Copyright@2019
All rights reserved 
Orange-Australia 
August 10, 2019

COOKING POETRY
















Photo: Bulalo 
November 10, 2019

By Crispulo Bacud Tappa 

The teevee is man's best friend 
during lockdowns,
when we are feeling sad, 
unable 
to  move around.
Surfing to find wha'ts fun
and truly entertaining,
we have become couch potatoes 
all day long.

But there's this program
that caught my fancy.
Of children who have
made the kitchen their 
playground, happy.
Cooking dishes under
the master's hands,
and truly they have
become  Master Chefs 
Australia, Junior.

Beyond the judging
and chicanery of cooking
lies a hidden chef's poetry.
The children were poets
garbed in their aprons,
armed with sharp knives,
a plethora of ingredients,
and the menu for the day.

The challenge is to create
a tasteful dish that satiates
the judges' culinary tastes.
And pressured with time
the junior chefs are all agog,
create the dish fit for a king
with an elegant plating
to impress the judges,
all certified master chefs,
with years of experience.

Where is poetry in cooking?
It is in being able to create
a dish out of something.
A work of art that delights
not only an empty stomach
but uplifts a broken spirit.
So is literary poetry.
The poet's challenge 
is to create his literary piece
from thoughts and ideas
and string them like jewel
to satisfy the erudite literati,
who will judge it accordingly.

There is no dish that fails
the master chef's litmus test.
Under his palate, the tastes
of food activates the glands.
It knows what is sweet,
pungent or simply bland.
But the chef also  discerns
good food by its appearance,
when it is tastefully arranged
in a clean plate like art.
These things aren't all the parameters for what is good or bad cooking. Because
what tastes good for the moose 
is badly cooked for the goose.

And so in literary poetry,
there is neither good nor bad poetry
as we have different tastes 
and varying levels of interpretation borne out of our education, 
experience, and love for the art.

Filipino Poets in Blossoms 
August 6, 2021

🍲🍲🍲🍲🍲🍲🍲



ANEJO RUM TO SOUTHERNLAND



Foreword:

Still not in my best, now insomnia is taking its toll. So I revisited my lame poetry. Here's one I wrote for a lame poet sailor. He was supposed to be my fish, but some unloyal sharks took my fish away from me. Oh well as the saying goes, "$%£€" happens. Inday in this poem is the name of the boat in case there will be people who like to jump out into the sea! Hope you'll enjoy the read.

By Leah C. Dancel 

In his hand
Sits a glass
Of Anejo Rum
Shot after shot
He merrily hums.
He osculates with the wind;
As breezy as a jolly friend;
With a shot of Anejo Rum
In his hand,
He skips in comeuppance.
Then slowly,
In manly dignity,
He takes orally
This liquid company;
Cautious not to waste
Its precious droplet
As if it's a clinquant pearl
That hides in the shell.
There's no dripping
While sipping
A glass of Anejo Rum
In his hand
As he stands
on Inday's bow
Right in the middle
Of the Pacific Ocean.
A quirky stranger
With a smirk appears
In folded arms
Quietly watching Inday
Under his cool command
As she drifts with the wind
Of the afternoon swelling tide
The King and Inday glide
Smoothly on a calm sea;
Far away from all the nuisance;
Thinking only of idyllic romance.
The King raises the wings
Of his lone fair lady,
Whose beauty is consumed
By his passion at play.
She curtsies
She obeys
To his every movement
In calculated precision
As he navigates
The familiar sea
With knowing ease
He sails and put her to rest.
Now the helmsman
Feels sombre.
Tho he's bold
And got strong hands;
He becomes feeble
Because of the Anejo Rum
That sits in his hand.
Now he's off to slumberland
And drifting with the wind
In the ocean calm tide.
Where the breezy wind
Is mating his Inday,
In his hand
Is a shot
Of the Anejo Rum.
And they sail
To the southernland.

©Leah C. Dancel
Copyright@2012
All rights reserved 
SH-Australia 
19 November 2012

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Versified Comment in Pilipino 

Ni Florencia Dayao:

Anejo Rum
Alak na Masarap,
Naging Modelo niyan
Kapit-bahay kong  tamad.

Dahil sa kagwapuhan,
Alak ay hinimas..
Hindi na masama,
Kumita siya ng limpak- limpak..

Alak na ito'y,
Marami ang naloko.
Naging popular,
Saan mang dako.

Ewan ko ba ,
Kung saan patutungo.
Ang tulang ito,
Nakakahiya...hhhh
Ako'y nahilo....

August 10, 2021
FPB

WINTER BLUES

My old poem, 15 years ago.

Dark clouds descend
Upon my gloomy soul.
Bleeding tears in throes 
My heart breaks apart. 

As night decries its imperious beauty,
No lustre illumines the sky above. 
Ashamed, appalled, aghast;
Stars and moon creep away beyond the blue. 

When dawning stretches at daybreak, 
Comes forth the yawn of sapless hope.
Misty dew sobs beneath the steaming fog;
It dims the tyrant chilly morning haze.

©Leah C. Dancel 
June 18, 2006
QH Australia 
 
Photo: Shaol Bay 
December 16, 2020

ROCK, MY FORTRESS

By Leah C. Dancel

TRILOGY


On top of this big broad rock,
I found a seat to sit upon;
Watching the blue ocean,
Calm and peaceful in its depth;
There’s no trace of vanity.

The waves keep tossing
relentlessly caress the shore.
Every lap sounds a rhapsody
for every note of the wind.

As the waves confront the rocks
They spray in random motion,
Pacing fast, medium and slow,
Each tempo harmoniously flows.

This rock is my throne and my shelter,
Away from the world where I falter;
My fortress from life’s distress,
Here I found solace and peace.

On this big rock I ponder,
What lies ahead and yonder?
Meditating and contemplating
For every travails besetting,
I let them go through the wind.

Copyright@2007, 
©Leah C. Dancel, 
All Rights Reserved
FOT, The Entrance,
NSW Australia

POETS' FARE

By Leah C. Dancel



My trip to Hunter Valley
24 April 2021


How much I find delight in poetry

With verses not long; one liners are best.

Stanzas are trimmed and cut to simpleness

Devoid of pageantry and pompous words.

I love the ones with landscape thoughts;

A portrait only minds can draw or paint.

Instead of pictures, words are inscribed

Designed to amaze, awe and inspire.

I walk along the trail that poets leave

Their stories, like my own, are found on the road of life.

Some are epics of better and mis-spent days

They give lessons to ponder under this covid mess.

Somewhere in between the lines I'm caught

In a trance lost to a forest of all that I believed

Forgetting the time that passes by

I'm soaked, immersed in words of the poets' fare.


Published at The Diary Files - DX-Lab, State Library of New South Wales 
June 9, 2020


SILENCE IN HARMONY OF THE NIGHT

By Leah C Dancel

Photo by permission

What lies in the horizon

Where luminescent sunset streams?
Does it reconcile my restless frame
In cohabitation with silence
And harmonize a dreamy night?

What sets in that iridescent sky?
Where precious heavenly gem emits
Beauty and wisdom of the eventide
A cohort’s advocate of divine insight
Transfigured in a space of endless time.

What draws the opalescent light?
To kiss the incandescent liquid face
And call upon his love in penchant peace?
As sunset drifts to its blissful home
There’s silence in harmony of the night.


Words Copyright@2009, Leah C. Dancel, All rights reserved

Title Credit: Mia N of Finland as inspired by her photography of Sunset.

~•✿•~ ~•✿•~

5 August 2021

THE BRIDGE

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I stood on the bridge at midnight,
As the clocks were striking the hour,
And the moon rose o'er the city,
Behind the dark church-tower.

I saw her bright reflection
In the waters under me,
Like a golden goblet falling
And sinking into the sea.

And far in the hazy distance
Of that lovely night in June,
The blaze of the flaming furnace
Gleamed redder than the moon.

Among the long, black rafters
The wavering shadows lay,
And the current that came from the ocean
Seemed to lift and bear them away;

As, sweeping and eddying through them,
Rose the belated tide,
And, streaming into the moonlight,
The seaweed floated wide.

And like those waters rushing
Among the wooden piers,
A flood of thoughts came o'er me
That filled my eyes with tears.

How often, oh, how often,
In the days that had gone by,
I had stood on that bridge at midnight
And gazed on that wave and sky!

How often, oh, how often,
I had wished that the ebbing tide
Would bear me away on its bosom
O'er the ocean wild and wide!

For my heart was hot and restless,
And my life was full of care,
And the burden laid upon me
Seemed greater than I could bear.

But now it has fallen from me,
It is buried in the sea;
And only the sorrow of others
Throws its shadow over me.

Yet whenever I cross the river
On its bridge with wooden piers,
Like the odor of brine from the ocean
Comes the thought of other years.

And I think how many thousands
Of care-encumbered men,
Each bearing his burden of sorrow,
Have crossed the bridge since then.

I see the long procession
Still passing to and fro,
The young heart hot and restless,
And the old subdued and slow!

And forever and forever,
As long as the river flows,
As long as the heart has passions,
As long as life has woes;

The moon and its broken reflection
And its shadows shall appear,
As the symbol of love in heaven,
And its wavering image here.

Published in The Belfry of Bruges and Other Poems in 1845.

Source: Poems of Quotes 

4 August 2021

A RAINBOW SCARF

Revised Edition
Edited by Jadj Dancel 

A RAINBOW SCARF
(An Ode To Sunsets)

Though we're into the twilight zone;
The sunset has not yet gone;
It lingers long in the horizon,
Waiting for us to come along.
As the ambient light spreads its glow,
A rainbow scarf appears out of the blue.
It decks  the sky in twirling motion;
A gymnast's dream to hold in possession:
A pathos of passion, a prism of triumph.
With sunsets' own capricious power,
No layman can ever fathom.
This moment I'll long to remember.

©️ Leah C Dancel
Copyright ©️ 3 August 2023
All rights reserved
SH-AUSTRALIA

(Revised version from the original
Copyright@ 3 August 2019)

Feedback 

"Beautiful poem with a spectacular
add-on photo of the colorful horizon!" - Susan Dancel Isip 🤩


 

Though we're into a twilight zone;
The sunset hasn't gone down yet;
It lingers long on the horizon,
Waiting for us to come along.
Meanwhile, the sky can't stop
But spread its ethereal glow;
A scarf of love as in a rainbow
For us to remember 
That God is in-charge there.
Our destiny He yet will map
In our hands one day He'll fold
As one soul according to His mould.

Leah C. Dancel
Copyright@2019
All rights reserved
August 3, 2019
Australia

Photo: Credit to Estelle Cortes