I.
Treasures That May Be Found In Destiny's New Shift


( Mille viri sententia agere nescit donec suscipit calamum scribere.)

For a brief spell, I hung my hammock in the shade
of the ancient tall oak tree, that God's word hath made
beneath glorious canopy, spread deep and wide
all the better to weeping soul, cleverly hide
denying light's full force, its exposing powers
and in needed respite dream, wile away lost hours!

Later arose, need to avoid acorns cast down
and that too painful welt made upon lazy crown
realization that life too gives crashing hits
among stormy woes and other troublesome fits
too oft setting upon otherwise weary soul
that prefers lazy day fishing with a cane pole!

While rehanging hammock in dusty old farm barn
came thoughts of, "Little Poinsinet", *Thackeray's yarn
flooded in and as such distraction does so yields
I far better saw, how Time can build stronger shields
against ravages life and woes are so sure to bring
this heart then raced to beg for sprouting of new Spring!

Spring, its promises of meadows and fields of green
cool winds blowing, birds sweet singing, flower birthed scenes
new hope, that Life, Night-dreams and Father Time may gift
treasures that may be found in destiny's new shift
to happiness, magnificent powers to heal
as manna from Heaven, ones newest Fated Meal!

Robert J. Lindley, 8-10-2019
Rhyme, ( Composed under the whip of a returned and angry muse )



1. "Little Poinsinet" referenced from
The Works of William Makepeace Thackeray: -10. Sketch books
1868...

Note: One may find that it is not enough to voluntarily expose ones breast for arrows
to be targeted upon. It becomes necessary to shield beating heart from their poisoned
tips. As venom has a way of building up to bring deep agony, epic pain and if left
to gain more, even death. A wise and prudent soul must face the fact, that oft
being kind, true and giving- invites an onslaught of arrow volleys-- as punishment
for Evil so dearly hates the exposure that Truth, Kindness, Light and Love brings to
its darkness, and its attempts to hide its constant destruction and venomous renderings
in this our too oft darkened realm of human life.

II.

As Morn's Radiant Glow Sets Right, With Blessings Born Each Day


As oblivion looms large, within after-midnight mists
dawn's waiting murmurs, shuffle into red brick lines
as cry out sad hearts and souls, beat down by black-iron fists
all flourishing before new sun's bright ray first shines!

Pity unto those, that such haunting thoughts and visions see
then hear echoes screaming, this harsh darkness thus reigns
under starlit skies and amidst sorrows and weeping pleas
decrying uselessness of what mortal man oft attains!

Begging relief by supplications throat'ed in dark dreams
and in hope that Light will, such cursed aberrations slay
and flow in clear waters from lakes birthing forgiveness streams
as morn's radiant glow sets right, with blessings born each day!

Hold firm and so right, truth of goodness within Divine Light
Knowing powers of Darkness, yields to that of Divine might.

Robert J. Lindley, 8-10-2019
Sonnet, ( Life Lessons Learned, From Each New Dawn's Promise
)

III.

Setting Out Dawn's Truth And Red Sunset Resplendent Glows


An old poet sang to morn, it rained like a fountain
he danced to gleaming moon, as it lit upon a mountain
Dawn returned, its soft glow resting on his weathered brow
beyond the moment, over the green hills, he heard a moo'ing cow
Thus was inspired to render verses that praised mother's milk,
as smooth as newborn babe's skin and as soft as new-spun silk!

Young poet saw her sitting there, just as an angel should
a beautiful fairy princess, in dreamland forested woods
In an instant, his pen found hungry paper to soon soak
blessed in truest love, his love trance never to be broke
Now her slave, to this vision he had so wondrously found,
black inked words, its deep romance - he was forever bound!

A muse sat on a golden horse, its bridle silver lace
holding emerald mirror, reflecting each poet's face
Setting out dawn's truth and red sunset resplendent glows
muse flung forth poetry's word-seeds so that its glory grows
With a knowing nod, a sly wink to each, sent verses vast
within poetry's magic realm, die was forever cast!

Robert J. Lindley, 8-10-2019
Rhyme, ( What Time, Poetry And Its Muse Once Welded Together )


IV.

She With Bluest Eyes And Tangerine Smile


She with bluest eyes and tangerine smile
sultry lips, her sex appeal reaching miles
gave voice to desires resting within me
brought a calm that caused heart not to flee.
Yet I saw, a flicker in those bright blue eyes
that promised sad sorrow, a later goodbye
a fleeting glimpse warning soul to beware
defeated by her million dollar stare!

Blissful months flew by, and life was quite grand
we ate hot-romance, dancing hand in hand
then like a lightning strike sorrow was born
from this grateful heart her love was thus torn.
Not slow fading as others had so been
hers was a sound breaking flight, ten times ten
as I look back, huge tears well up and fall
I beg her true love, the one I recall.

Now an old man, sits watching river run
musing on youth, its almost endless fun
fishing with naked hook, as morn slow flies
remembering sunny days, her blue eyes.
Watching as sun races on farther west
daydreaming of love lost, one that was best
one that simmered, cooking romance meal
one that stirs this soul, to again so feel.

R.J. Lindley, 8-10-2019
Rhyme, ( Why Precious Memories Are Treasures Indeed )


Note:
Never again can the treasures of youth be gained.
As Time and Fate play a one-way shuffling game
If blessed one has memories to in old age share
Even if life is oft harsh, sometimes it is also fair
Seen if one weighs their past against that looming end
And finds a broad smile, one that recalls both lovers and dear friends

Copyright Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2019