| 2007's Poetry Contest Results |
| 1st Place: Michael Jacob Bolster - "Half-life" 2nd Place: Rebecca Ron Pierce- "The Moon And The Sea" 5 Honorable Mentions Susan Ongirski - "Will Our Troops Be Coming Home Soon?" Gregory A. Best - "Ouroboros" Joseph Meckes - "Angel Of God" Daniel Gordon Larson - "Fare Thee Well, Distant Shore" Shirley Petrandis - "A Father And His Son" |
| . |
| The Moon And The Sea Rebecca Ron Pierce The moon pulls me with the tide. It washes cold silver o’er each rippling wave. I fold and unfold myself but cannot hide. The merciless light is a crippling lave, And all my secrets thus will blanch As each wave crashes in avalanche. Do not stir me tonight Because I am water and you are stone. And all your wiles are maddening bright When I want to be alone. Rushing and hushing, in love and hate, All through the night, I vacillate! And I dash myself against the rocks, I splash myself against the shore. Still the beaming smile mocks Making me quake and reach for more. The more I sigh, the more I heave… As darkness and light interweave. When at last I am but spent, And my crumpled soul is smooth and still. Then, at last, will you relent And make your kisses soothe, tranquil? Thus are we locked in intimacy, For you are the moon, and I am the sea. Will Our Troops Be Coming Home Soon? Susan Ongirski Will our troops be coming home soon, or are they there to stay? We look for signs of progress, but it seems so far away! Our President keeps sending more, and less are coming back, He needs to try to understand, We’re not wanted in Iraq. Our Country's spending billions, And we haven’t made a dent. Are our troops lives that expendable, and why is more being sent? I write this not in disrespect, but to let my voice be heard, to execute MY freedom, through each written line and word. Our soldiers die as hero’s, where all freedom is defiled, while their children lose a parent, and their parents lose a child. The Sunni and the Shiites can’t decide whose right or wrong. Roadside bombings make insurgents and the militants feel strong! The Marines are in Fallujah, and the Army in Tikrit, while more fighting in Afghanistan takes our soldiers in defeat. I just wish our U.S. President would acknowledge all the signs, with so many soldiers getting killed, as they fight across front lines. I only have one question and I know I’m not alone, will this war take more American’s, Or will our troops be coming home? Ouroboros Gregory A. Best I try to feel but feelings tried to unionize like man and bride and though I feel I'm justified, self-justice is deceiving. A broken glass is something more than jagged shards upon the floor, direct result of slamming door, or so I am perceiving. And so it goes both day and night, till someone wins and ends the fight, although we both feel quite contrite, the silence is relieving. Another day will pass and then, the Orobouous dines again, we won't know where it stops and when, the peace turns into grieving. Angel Of God Joseph Meckes Angel of God, my grandchild dear whom God loved so He sent you here. A precious child I hardly know but pray for time to help you grow. From this day forth I’m tasked to be Grandpa, Guide and Learning Tree. The time will pass, I’ll watch you grow there’s so much both of us don’t know. I’ll walk the road of life with you hand in hand just a mile or two. The years will pass, I’ll touch your hands an infant’s, a boy’s, and then a man’s. We’ll take our time that’s all we got they’ll be sunny days, quite a lot. With family and friends and all who care perhaps a rainy day sorrow we’ll share. Then God will say that I must go my work here done my head bowed low. Someday with your grandchild you’ll be Grandpa, Guide and Learning Tree. Fare Thee Well, Distant Shore Daniel Gordon Larson Put a message in a bottle and set it out to sea. Don’t really care where it ends up as long as it floats free. And if by chance someday it’s found along some foreign shore, I hope the words upon the page are read by one or more. No need for return messages, not time enough for that, I put this in the water on the day that was my last. Just sending out my little notes, as simple as they seem, Of what I thought was left in life, my hopes and endless dreams. I’ve gone a little further now beyond the lands and tides, And where these words have found a home so, too, my soul abides. A Father And His Son Shirley Petrandis He stands aside and watches, amazed at what he sees. A tiny image of himself- the offspring of his seed. Before he knows a year has passed, his child is now afoot. Testing, tasting, exploring- the how, when, where and what. His little one is growing fast, already starting school. The first day is the hardest, for Dad to play it cool. Anxiety at separation, most common so they say. For Dad it’s even harder, to have his son away. But soon he does adjust, falling into a routine, Of school drop off and pick up, and working in-between. No sooner he can blink, it’s graduation day, With college on the horizon, and no more time to play. The next four years fly by, in a crazy, hazy whirl, Now his son is getting married, to a very lovely girl. Within a year or two, another joins the flock, Dad is suddenly a Grandpa, babysitting round the clock. Now the doctor tells him, he has three months to live, His body is worn out, and has nothing left to give. He spends the time remembering, his life and gracious son, Until he takes his last breath, and joins his Dad, beyond. HOME PAGE |