If I Were a Blackbird

If I Were a Blackbird

If I were a blackbird sitting high in a tree,

I’d fly away from everyone that keeps messing with me.

People with their begging and their constant needs,

I’d find myself a secret place and go hunting for some seeds.

 If I were a blackbird all sleek and shiny,

I would get away from people that are constantly whiny.

I’d find myself a quiet place to rest in peace,

I wouldn’t go back until the neediness has ceased.

 Awww, But “IF” is such a useless word, it doesn’t do much good.

It accomplishes nothing, so I never understood

why I indulge it and use it, it doesn’t help one bit,

So if(ing), could(ing), and would(ing), I had better quit.

©2014 by ~dellgirl~

Daddy’s Legacy

Daddy's Legacy 

 Six feet tall in his stocking feet with an inch or two to spare,

like coffee laced with whipping cream, his skin it was so fair.

Above his lips below his nose his moustache did stand out,

all neatly groomed and trimmed it was without a minute’s doubt.

He was long and lean and lanky, he was handsome as could be.

He always tamed the hats he wore with creases A to Z.

His khakis creased and starched from waist to spit-shined shoes,

all bathed and dressed and smelling good he’s ready for some blues.

Daddy loved and cherished Mama, she was his all and all

He showed her his devotion when he called her “Baby Doll”.

He always tried to snuggle at the end of every day

It did us kids a world of good to see our dad that way.

Daddy loved us kids a lot, we knew that from the start.

The attention he provided us came from deep within his heart.

1975

Six feet tall with mocha skin and wise beyond his years,

he left this world in ’88 I cried a many tears.

I wiped my face I dried my tears my dad’s life was over.

He lived his life he gave his best, And, now he’s with Jehovah.

Now that Daddy’s gone I know the lessons that he left,

everything he taught me makes me be my better self.

His legacy is simple; 

it is awesome with its power,

to live and love to sing and dance 

and to embrace the hour.
~~~~~~~~~~

RIP Daddy: 

Hermise Mason Wilkins ~

July 25, 1918 – September 3, 1988 

 © 2008 By Leona G. Shankle

All rights reserved

The Bench by the Back Door

A Tribute to Friendship

By the back door on a bench I wait after work for my ride.

I sit with my books my bags and stuff on the bench right by my side.

People rush by on their way out and smile as I sit alone.

Nobody knows nobody cares I’m here long after they’re gone.

There’s one who doesn’t pass without asking if I’m fine.

She joins me on the bench and puts her things down next to mine.

We chit and chat and talk we laugh and sigh a bit.

I’m glad to have her company while on the bench we sit.

Gathering her books and things she stands prepared to leave,

but not before she asks again “Can I help you, please?”

Holding the door open a tiny crack she asks if I need a ride

“I’ll gladly take you home,” she said, juggling her books on her side.

Her sincerity is from deep within As she wonders what to say,

“You sure you don’t need a ride home?” Thanks, but maybe some other day.”

The next few days and the next few weeks as I sat on the bench by the back door,

She never passed without taking time to sit and talk some more.

Then one day I swallowed my pride. I accepted her offer, I took the ride.

Never again did I have to ask, I never had to say,

“If it is no bother can you give me a ride today?”

My friend will never ever know just what she did for me.

There’s no way to repay her, so I want the world to see.

A friend like my friend Dorothy is a rare and precious jewel.

I’ll be forever thankful how we met that day at school.

I say thanks to my pal Dorothy for being my best friend.

I will cherish what you gave me from now until time ends.

e

©  2008 by ~dellgirl~

Image source 

Redemption

I have stood the test of time.  

Once I lived a life of beauty,

sunrises excited me, sunsets comforted me.

Each morning I rose to greet a new day,

with outstretched arms reaching for heaven,

giving thanks to God for my magnificence.

   I have survived through season after season.

Hence, ravages of weather brand every inch of my being,

neglect hastened my demise,

ignorance imprisons me.

Yet I stand, with outstretched arms reaching for heaven,

giving thanks to God for my endurance.

Still I stand, though forgotten abused and forlorn

waiting to once again greet the sunrise,

to slumber peacefully in the sunset,

to serve a purpose other than despair,

with outstretched arms reaching for heaven,

giving thanks to God for my redemption.  

© 2012 – Leona G Shankle

What Are Some Facts About Poetry?

Writing poetry is a wonderful outlet for expressing ideas. Writing poetry is the highest, noblest, art form; and poets are those who can feel what can be beautifully expressed as in poetry, as poems. It involves not just scribbling in a notebook, but also undertaking a way of life, one in which you value being creative and sensitive.

Writing poetry is not always an easy job but, it could be your cup of tea. Writing poetry tips are helpful guidelines, but not the rule of thumb, they're not etched in stone - as a poet you set your own rules. Writing poetry has always been about emotion; thrilling, bitterness and even humorous. It is like jumping off a high dive at the deep end of the pool, exhilarating.

Poetry can be used to convey ideas, information and feelings but, above all, it is a great means of entertainment. Poetry is the poetic, beautiful, expression of the poet's passion - in poetry poets express passions sensibly and beautifully.

Poetry is meant for the ear; listen to the sounds the words make. Poetry in rhyme sounds more pleasing - rhyme adds to its beauty. Why not 'cash in' on that in your poetry. Poetry can be as complicated or as frivolous as possible, it's all up to the author. Poetry is food for thought and for the soul. All food has its ingredients and, so does poetry.

Writing is a passion of mine that brings relief. Writing styles, subject matter and even childhood memories influence a lot of our choices. Writing in "free verse" does not excuse the poet's obligation to please the ear though. Writing, reading and falling in love with poetry are all processes.

Writing has always been a form of self therapy, an expression of emotions too intense to keep inside, an expression of thoughts, feelings, and meanings. Writing about painful subjects is also a great way to deal with that pain, write it out. If it’s too painful to share, keep it for yourself. But, do write it out and feel the healing power of putting those words on paper.

Be yourself when you are writing poetry. Explore your different sides through your poetry let the different facets of your personality take center stage. Be happy writing poetry, this is your time to expand and write whatever comes into your mind. When nothing comes to mind -- start writing, very fast --any word, a phrase or simply a sentence or two that pops into your mind.

Try using writing poetry as an excuse not to do other things. Yes, that’s right, if you’re not already doing so, start writing poetry now. There are still several months left in the year, this is the perfect time to embark on a new adventure, so why not seriously consider writing poetry and sharing it with others this year.

© 2009 by Leona G. Shankle