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Pastoral shop blog

This blog is meant for posting only of the pastoral workshop blogs. All are welcome to read but please don't comment until a poem is listed as completed. I'll begin by posting the beginning of my shop poem. All should do the same and as each person is assigned a poem to continue, please do so in the comment section which goes with each beginning. This is being done in an attempt to keep all these shop poems in one place and easy to find

Comments

In a rocker near the sliding door
he stares outside this winter's day
not saying what he's looking for.
Look close, his eyes are far away.

For they are focused in the past
and forests where he used to roam
or streams on which he used to cast
far from this retirement home.

author comment

the rocking went on forth and back
as the sun set and rose again
And in his heart he kept a track
of dearly spaces which once held his pain.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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Is there such word as deary? Also I kept wanting to see .....spaces once held by his pain or ...spaces which once held his pain or some such.

author comment

sorry. I have done some edits on the streamed version without coming back to this one.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
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is definitely a word in the dictionary, but maybe it's used for people more than places?

Does the last line read better now?

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
https://instagram.com/poetry.jo?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Part of the Earth

(Ian)
I will walk among the trailing boughs
They seem to stretch out to touch me
Yet I know it is a gesture of their feelings
Here in my wooded glade I am at peace.
(Wes)
Each creature here knows my true name,
for freely have I told it to them.
Faith, trust, love and patience:
these four are all I’ve ever sought.

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

part of the Earth

I will walk among the trailing boughs
they seem to stretch out to touch me
Yet I know it is a gesture of their feelings
Here in my wooded glade I am at peace

Each creature here knows my true name
For freely I have told it to them
Faith, trust, love and patience
These four are all I've ever sought

There, amongst the reaching boughs
I hear my real name, whispered low
Entwined within the sounds of life
And my essence knows its place
.

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

Kensas City

(Wesley)

The last true peaceful moment of my life
I spent with daddy, sis and daddy's wife.
As husband daddy made his family strong
and passing o'er that bridge I knew no wrong
could be on either side of Kansas City.
At midnight I was young and bright and witty.
"The Stranger on the Shore" was playing loud
and when it stopped I knew I'd joined man's crowd

(Rula)

So I headed where I thought the real man
would venture while in the busy streets he ran
When those cool summer nights went full-moon bright
we told stories 'bout king Arthur the knight
Winter came, then under the rain I washed
or sneaked to where I splashed, slopped and sloshed
I always ganged , then minutes became a past
packed where peace and love would forever last

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
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my piece of heaven

the busy city street, the quiet country lane
I know which one of these that I would choose
only one conveys me away from cluttered pain
so watch me as I don my walking shoes

As busy buildings fade with each unforced tread
and the raucous noise becomes a freeform mantra
I slowly lose my constant source of dread
and all the world becomes my growing tantra
.
.

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

It isn't that big...my home I mean,
but it's as sweet as honey could call.
When children's noise goes loud that brings
calmness, love and peace to my soul.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
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It isn't that big...my home I mean,
but it's as sweet as honey could call.
When children's noise goes loud that brings
calmness, love and peace to my soul.

Rula Y. H.

No matter where our surrounding are
My heart and love will always be
Abiding in a country strange or far
Or where my parents love taught me.

Ian.T

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

“My Sweet Home”

It isn't that big...my home I mean,
but it's as sweet as honey could call.
When children's noise goes loud that brings
calmness, love and peace to my soul.
Rula Y. H.

No matter where our surrounding are
My heart and love will always be
Abiding in a country strange or far
Or where my parents love taught me.
Ian.T

No region, state is large enough
to hold the love of my small land.
Compassion and cacophony
I love my mad cap home.
W. H. Snow

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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"The Numinous in Luminosity"

Bright brittle light allows no lies
on my country's ancient, hard worn lands
where indifferent spirits stay uncaring hands
from us who swarm it like so many flies.
Unlike the misty intimacy of Eire
for the numinous is ever present there.

But come the night over southern skies
the brittle bright light disappears in hued sands
sublime opens high over this outstretched land
as ethereal webs unfold a thousand eyes.
Unlike in the misty intimacy of Eire
the numinous shares the spacious outback's prayer.

.

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

Bright brittle light allows no lies
on my country's ancient hard worn lands
where indifferent spirits stay uncaring hands
from us who swarm it like so many flies.
Unlike the misty intimacy of Eire
for the numinous is ever present there.

But come the night over southern skies
the brittle bright light disappears in hued sands
sublime opens high over this outstretched land
as ethereal webs unfold a thousand eyes.
Unlike the misty intimacy of Eire
the numinous shares the spacious outback's prayer.

On that final day the sun will rise
casting shadows on the red hued sands
where dry streams run in twisting bands
then all there will come to realize
that like the misty intimacy of Eire
there's more than just eyes can see there.

Jess- beginning , Judy- main body , stan- ending

author comment

"my piece of heaven"

the busy city street, the quiet country lane
I know which one of these that I would choose
only one conveys me away from cluttered pain
so watch me as I don my walking shoes

As busy buildings fade with each unforced tread
and the raucous noise becomes a freeform mantra
I slowly lose my constant source of dread
and all the world becomes my growing tantra.

Here the wilderness envelopes my mind
I now drift as the oceans quiet waves
All fears of being, I know will be left behind
Within my self's frame, caressing new days

Yours as always, Ian..

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

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