Poetry and Prose for any season

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Sometimes Nature Joins Life's Celebration

Sometimes Nature joins life's celebration
giving generously beautiful scenes;
relief from man's saddest tribulations,
such rewards are worthy by any means.

Where morning sun glistens on dewy grass
glowing blue sky graces the live long day;
rests valley meadow in a mountain pass
where Nature dances forth in its own way.

When man finds this epic, beautiful view,
his first thought is this jewel to then own;
such lusting reveals his brain is askew,
and his head is as a dead and dry bone!

Nature is not ours to greedily tame.
For we as mortals, are one and the same!

Robert J. Lindley, 2-01-2016


Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 100

NOTE: Wrote this from memory of a mountain meadow I once visited decades ago.
A memory so awesome that its not been lost, a view vividly burned into my mind.
Finished it, then I checked for the hundred one word count and found it was
dead on! My intuitive brain must have been counting all along.
Writing about Nature is a healing action for me, my day has brightened already.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Vanishing The Sky's Majestic Blue

Pristine views of sunset's glows,
Where sky flashes out its best,
No storming waters or undertows
Just beauty sinking in the west;
Nature wraps this scene in splendor,
Fading tree lines give gasps anew,
Day's demise a beautiful tail-ender
Vanishing, the sky's majestic blue.

R. J. Lindley,
AUG. 20TH 1986

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Under These Slow And Sinking, Pale Half-Moons

Angel of soft, ever wanting touch;
Delivers with serenity in tow;
That this sunken vessel needs very much-
Set thy eyes upon my dark, fleeting soul!

Will this humble plea strike upon thy heart;
Shall from it, thee ever gift joyous tunes?
Or force in me yet another sad start-
Under these slow and sinking, pale half-moons.

Angel of my heart's desperate desires;
Will thee ever prepare that blessed meal,
Roasting delicately upon hot fires-
Aye, thy gentle hand my soul doth now feel!

Angel sent this sad and desperate plea,
Will thy hand thus, reach forth to comfort me?

Robert J. Lindley, 2-06- 2016


Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 100


Note: A new sonnet dedicated to this excerpt--

In Section LXIX of In Memoriam, Tennyson dreams an allegorical angel who may or
may not be the transformed Arthur Hallam:

I found an angel of the night;

The voice was low, the look was bright;

He look’d upon my crown and smiled:



He reach’d the glory of a hand,

That seem’d to touch it into leaf:

The voice was not the voice of grief,

The words were hard to understand.
------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------

Second draft--

Under Slow And Sinking, Pale Half-Moons
(Number one, of Debbie's 6/6 challenge)

Angel of soft and much wanted touch,
she delivers serenity in tow;
Can this sunken vessel proclaim as much-
agree, lifting pain from my fleeting soul!

Will this humble plea strike upon your heart;
shall from it, you then gift joyous tunes?
Kill my spirit, force another sad start-
how under slow and sinking, pale half-moons?

My angel of my heart's heated desires;
could you ever prepare that blessed meal?
By roasting delicately on hot fires-
would not your gentle hand my soul then feel?

Hearing now this sad and desperate plea,
Fearing not, your hand reach to comfort me?

Robert J. Lindley, 2-06-2016

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 100

Note: A new sonnet dedicated to this excerpt--

In Section LXIX of In Memoriam, Tennyson dreams an
allegorical angel who may or
may not be the transformed Arthur Hallam:

I found an angel of the night;?
The voice was low, the look was bright;?
He look’d upon my crown and smiled:??

He reach’d the glory of a hand,?
That seem’d to touch it into leaf:?
The voice was not the voice of grief,?
The words were hard to understand.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Contest poem, edited , retitled and rewritten to meet contest requirements.

You Gave Me No Second Chance

All that I once so dearly loved,
sweet joys blessedly known;
crashed when push came to shove,
are poor fair now that you are gone!
Pain rips the cool from the winds,
great sorrows fill my heart;
once we were lovers, now it all ends
as I pray for yet another start!
An arm offered for your sweet kiss,
you refused with a locked gate.
All of you is what I dearly miss
and I cry now because you hate!
I begged for compassion yet again,
your heart laughed with glee;
I have no desire to only be a friend,
you scoff at my tortured plea!

Pain rips the cool from the winds,
great sorrows fill my heart;
once we were lovers, now it all ends
as I pray for yet another start!

Robert J. Lindley, 2-10-2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

My Bones Under Trees With Very Deep Roots

My life flown past is only a pane of glass,
My joys mere coffee dregs to be tossed,
My victories were not gold but mere brass,
And my awesome tales enlarged and embossed;
Yet earth gave me of its wondrous fruits,
All memories, in trees with very deep roots!

My dances all were on beds of hot stones,
None were happy scenes in majestic dreams,
I relished eating empty ice cream cones,
As I crawled along barn splintered beams;
Fleeing owls screeched out their hoots,
Racing into tall trees with very deep roots!

I begged for the roasted bread of life,
I took so much more than ever I gave,
My cuts were bruisings with a dull knife,
And soon I shall sleep in an unknown grave;
Where dirt will fill my sadly torn boots,
My bones under trees with very deep roots!

Robert J. Lindley, 2-14-2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

All That He Ever Craved

As her lover he walked on a razor thin edge.
His thick rubber-bands in his pockets groaned,
yet his walk a dance of hottest thrills;
for her honey she spread on thick, in a glaze.
Time. What of it, should he ever deign to care?
No, his beating heart told him satisfaction awaits,
in her labyrinths of treasure filled dreams;
a testament to mind over matter and reality,
with its sad, sickening and indulging torments.
Each new morn he walked that thin red line,
a traveler on pleasure's secret paths,
complete with rubber-bands in his empty pockets.
The edge's cuts were all that he ever craved!
The wickedly deep cuts were all that he ever craved!

Robert J. Lindley, 2-14-2016

Note: A rare free verse from me today.
Do not blame me, my muse forced it out..

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

First draft..

When They Perish We Dearly Feel The Loss


With heart of a lion, the feet of a gazelle
are all condemning the wicked gates of hell;
men and women honorably carrying the Cross,
when they perish we dearly feel the loss,
yet in heaven they shall eternally dwell.

With earth behind them, gone is the gloom,
living in paradise above their earthly tomb,
each will find that serenity sweetly calls;
great are the mansions, gold in their walls,
no longer worrying of Fate's impending doom.

With heart of a lion, the feet of a gazelle
are all condemning the wicked gates of hell;
men and women honorably carrying the Cross,
when they perish we dearly feel the loss.

Robert J. Lindley, 2-15-2016

----------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------
2nd draft= Finished poem..

Whenever They Perish We Dearly Feel The Loss

With heart of a lion and feet of a gazelle
are all condemning the torturing gates of hell;
faithful followers that carry the Holy Cross,
whenever they perish we dearly feel the loss,
yet within heaven they shall eternally dwell.

Their earthly fears behind them, gone is any gloom,
living in paradise above their earthly tomb,
each will find heaven's serenity sweetly calls;
magnificent the mansions, golden are their walls,
no longer worrying of Fate's impending doom.

With heart of a lion and feet of a gazelle
are all condemning the torturing gates of hell;
faithful followers that carry the Holy Cross,
whenever they perish we dearly feel the loss.

Robert J. Lindley, 2-15-2016

Sonnet in 12 syllable verses,
with perfect 110 word count...

Syllables Per Line:
12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12
Total # Syllables: 168
Total # Lines: 16 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 110

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Diamond Shattering Death

Diamonds shattering just behind her family's door
for the life of her dear father is no more!
Fate set it's seal too early upon her young life,
results of a great tragedy born of mental strife.

Death brought shadows blocking out healing light
no more beautiful sunrise, as all is darkest night.
Wickedly, it's daggers into that soul deeply cut,
aches and pain sole companions in that black rut.

So very relentless are such deep heartache blues,
often birthed on strange paths one did not choose.
Father lost in desperation of mental illness's haze
poison taken ending his painful and confusing days.

Silently reading from the one great spiritual book
a mourning, soulful repose daughter then took
Seeking solace as she gazed into another realm,
seeking rescue ship, her beloved Savior at the helm!

Robert J. Lindley, 5-14-2014

Note: Poem is about one of the greatest and most grievous
tragedies in life. Although nobody in my family from either
side ever did such a thing, I saw its devastation on my
best friend/schoolmate back when I was only 12 years old.
His father ended his own life in that way(shot himself).
After that his character completely changed and since that
day in 1966 sadly, two of his brothers and four of his cousins
have done the same. Such tragedy in one family is impossible
for me to truly understand.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Man Of My Own, part 3

My son, your wedding approaches now so fast
we proudly share in your love and coming joys.
Please, be kind to her always and make it last
and gift us several little girls and boys!

Never forget your dear father's sage advice,
hold on to our family's principled views.
Never sacrifice honor at any price,
eternally give her the love she is due!

As life brings its trials and great tribulations,
look to heaven when in dark desperate straits.
There gifted to us are true celebrations,
often with the shields that ward off evil fates.

As my dearest son, you have now made me proud,
with family you are now about to start.
In life celebrate and sing out to her loud,
soon you will be joined with another dear heart!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Father, how much I miss you words can't say,
since your death life has never been the same.
First it was difficult and skies seemed grey,
I should have been with you, not seeking fame.

Beautiful memories of times gone by,
sadden me as you are not by my side.
Each photograph I look at makes me cry,
fills me with guilt for every time I lied.

When I have a problem I look for you,
but then realise you're not here to talk.
Your words of wisdom will always be true,
that made me strong since the day I could walk.

Father your legacy lives on with me,
despite my destiny not being known,
I will continue our family tree,
your love has made me a man of my own.

27 February 2016,
Robert Lindley(first 16 verses)
SilentOne (second 16 verses)

Last poem of a three part series, completed today.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Upon Misty Morning's Fast Fading Glow

Upon misty morning's fast fading glow,
dance fairies on glittering silver wings.
Flying with fantasies flowing in tow
And sweetest joy such dancing often brings.

Above their heads the rising sun awaits,
its morning sun's time for shining anew.
If fairies are seen, man then contemplates,
dreaming depths of that rare mystical clue.

As dancing wings fast flutter to depart,
one ponders glistened myriads of fate.
Sadness beating in dreams of every heart,
with embellished scenes of day's opened gates.

Upon that vanishing flash time cries out,
woe to he that simply waits upon me!
Free living is what life is all about.
Life taking dire chances is living free-

In those windless breezes summer moon shines,
In the deep dark no more secrets to dread,
The grave beginnings we have all kept live ----
Weeping misery and ancient-kept death

The mountains moan, the mountains moan! ---- as babes!
Those creepy-crawly mists fade to fortune;
Wondrous winds in a panting night do tame ----
The fevered child once wan with vacant love

A horn Gabriel shall blow through pink clouds ----
And sleeping stars bring life with bright-night-light
A world to shine and illume all year round;
Broods of good company and simple delights

The morn shall pass and with it mad darkness,
The heavens death cannot roam freely so;
Old Lucifer, huffing and puffing red!
Upon misty morning's fast fading glow.

Robert J. Lindley and Keith O.J. Hunt, 3-04-2016

First 16 lines written by Robert Lindley
Last 16 lines written by Keith O.J. Hunt

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Your Cold Heart Denies My Love

I can not change your cold heart,
Or force you to again lovingly speak.
Sad your choice is we remain apart.
That again, our love I dearly seek:
I can not change your cold heart!

I can not change your cold heart;
Nor storm the many castles you build.
Despite my sad pleas for another start,
you hating me, refuse to ever yield,
I can not change your cold heart.

I can not change your cold heart;
Change your mind, if only I ever could,
forever hold you and never part!
Rejoin our love by any sacrifice I would
I can not change your cold heart.

I can not change your cold heart,
Or remove that hate in your dark eyes:
Behind that stare awaits a poison dart,
to fling at me based upon many lies;
I can not change your cold heart.

Robert J. Lindley, 3-08-2016

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

To A Wren

They have not taken thee, thou art too small
To tinge their fancy with a moment's flush;
Thy safely lieth in a ruined wall,
Thy plainsong blendeth with loud water's rush.
In dusky shade thy duskier shadow flits
Beside the pathway; friendly in thy flight;
No wrath of Heaven scares thee from thy wits,-
Thou art a brave and homely little wight.
What man can tell the meaning of the tongue
Thy presence in our memory uttereth?
What say you the thoughts of thee that wind among
Our travels on the ways of life and death?
If our hearts knew that secret we should be
Lords of the legend of our destiny.

Robert J. Lindley
presented , 3-10-2016


Note:
1. Wren- The wrens are mostly small, brownish passerine birds in the mainly New World family Troglodytidae. About 80 species of true wrens in roughly 20 genera are described. Only the Eurasian wren occurs in the Old World, where in Anglophone regions, it is commonly known simply as the "wren", as it is the originator of the name. The name wren has been applied to other, unrelated birds, particularly the New Zealand wrens (Acanthisittidae) and the Australian wrens (Maluridae).
Most wrens are small and rather inconspicuous, except for their loud and often complex songs. Notable exceptions are the relatively large members of the genus Campylorhynchus, which can be quite bold in their behavior. Wrens have short wings that are barred in most species, and they often hold their tails upright. As far as known, wrens are primarily insectivorous, eating insects, spiders, and other small arthropods, but many species also eat vegetable matter and some take small frogs and lizards.[1]

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

O' The Deep Wisdom That Man Fails To Seek

Dark world's scar, sad clown in dancing despair,
Lively in sewers of forbidden thought,
Gambling in darkness for a wasted share,
Content with errors so easily bought.

What of the world's sweeter admirations?
Or family's great clear and glowing praise?
Shall one thus live for selfish sensations,
With no need for truth that spirit will raise?

Yet life may still gift other shining gold,
As one walks its great mysterious paths.
In adventure one must be bravely bold,
without fear of Fate's many fickle wraths!

O' the deep wisdom that man fails to seek.
Such loves and treasures, he gets not a peek.

Robert J. Lindley, 3-20-2016

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 102

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

How Fine Life Is To Man, When His Crops Are All Green

Yesteryear, I saw grapes hanging heavy on the vines
Such bounty was not all, bright where the windy pines.
Green the grass grew, great fodder for all of mankind,
How I wish I knew, that righteous path to again find.

Beyond that past scene, rests solace in future hope
Life soft and less mean, no bad seen in my horoscope.
Another Spring giving joy, gentle winds in my sail,
Happiness for my little boy, treasures he can retell.

With that thought, I can find another gentle peace!

Today my heart raced on again, into its new scene.
How fine life is to man, when his crops are all green.
Music reaches into his heart, dancing into his soul.
He rises in joy's restart, entering his blessed new role.

With that thought, I can find another sweet release!

Robert J. Lindley, 3-22-2016

My new sonnet form.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

With Nature My Life Stays In Tune

With Nature my life stays in tune
Be it day or clear night's bright moon
On this, my heart holds true and fast
With clear sunshine in month of June
Pains in life my soul seeks to prune
Cuts for the good, thus meant to last
With Nature my life stays in tune
Be it day or clear night's bright moon

Greatness in this, Nature's sweet song
Words my heart holds, praying along
On this, my heart holds true and fast
Cuts for the good, thus meant to last
With Nature my life stays in tune
Be it day or clear night's bright moon

Robert J. Lindley, 3-27-2016

Syllables Per Line:
8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 0 8 8 8 8 8 8
Total # Syllables: 112
Total # Lines: 15 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 104

"Sonnetina Rispetto"
The "Sonnetina Rispetto" is a new poetry form
created by Dorian Petersen Potter on September 8,2009.
This form has 14 lines with 8 syllables each.
It can be written in 3 quatrain stanzas and a couplet or
with an Octave(8) and a Sestet(6) lines.
The rhyme scheme is as follows: A1,A2,B1,c,c,B2,A1,A2,d,d,B1,B2,A1,A2.
The capitals A1,A2,B1 and B2...stands for the refrain lines in the poem.
Any subject.
---------------------
QUITE A CHALLENGE, WRITING IN 8 SYLLABLE VERSES.
SLAMMED THIS OUT THIS MORN, AS I PROMISED MY VERY TALENTED POET FRIEND
PETER DUGGAN.