THE TIME CAPSULE. Norman Smith D.
hide-and-seek
Among the well-pruned trees.
The bittersweet love their hearts can feel,
When with pleasure their eyes behold,
Children playing in glee.
Content and jolly, no fears or cares.
May angels their guardian be,
While their grieving hearts in constant plea
To open the portal of a cursed womb.
Two souls that needs to be a family
In a house they hope to be a home.
If only her womb could be blest
And bear them fruits of their own.
No giggling, shouting, screaming, or laughter.
No jeering, cheering, yelling, or applauding.
The voices of children are absent from the ears.
No sharing of joy on the well-manicured lawn
And the lonely golden retriever stand silent and still
With no children with which to play.
The cursed womb had reaped a spell
When first a fetus life the parents expelled
And locked the portal, no ins or out
And now an infertile womb, a deserted tomb.
Fancy cars in their driveway parked.
They fashioned rubies, diamonds, and cultured pearls.
Many precious jewels upon them are bestowed,
But a cursed barren womb never to be restored.
The Rainbow
That colorful arc displays itself in the sky,
One of nature’s most exciting creations
That stimulates our curiosity
And leads us to awesome wondering
Just how Mother Nature paints this way.
With her seven primary colors in the sky
Arching over the oceans, lakes, and seas?
Vivid colors as bright as the stars in the sky,
One day it’s there, and the next it’s gone.
Where did that colorful arch go,
And why did it leave us so soon?
Its presence has graced us for less than a day.
Then without a warning, it is gone.
Did it disappear, or did it move to somewhere?
No marks remain, not even a single blot,
That beautiful and yet illusive work of art
Nature paints on its canvas, the sky.
Those rainbows often come in a full circle.
But seldom, if ever, have they revealed their all
And grant us a treat to our eyes.
The rainbow, an arc painted in the sky.
A Lonely Craft
A lonely craft battling a storm
Trying to find its way home
As it ventured across a channel.
With a single man as its captain, mate, crew, and cargo,
What would prove a difficult task for a crew of four
Now seems an impossible feat for one.
With a single crew and the absence of cargo,
His vessel so light, all throughout the night,
He fought a gallant fight to keep his vessel afloat.
And the lighthouse on the hill in his sight
But as he got weary, his strength failed.
He collapsed and his little craft began to drift.
With the absence of his wit, the lonely craft
Fell to the will of the storm, and indeed
It showed no mercy, but tossed his vessel about
Like a leaf in that rugged white channel.
But when at last the morning came
And the sun shines down on his face,
A single man, as captain, mate, crew, and cargo.
Lay flat on his back, in his little vessel,
Still absent of his mind.
With his Irish hound licking on his face
To welcome him home.
In time he was awakened, by a man’s best friend.
A Man’s Castle
Away from the hustling and bustling crowd,
He opened the door and entered his castle
And locked the crazy world outside.
Now to concentrate on what is inside.
Because within these walls lies his all
The family that he loves most dearly.
For in his castle he reigns as the king
With his other half, the castle’s queen.
Together they rule in their domain.
Thus side by side they stand,
Not one above and the other below,
Or one in front and the other behind.
If only as his nightly paradise
Within his walls, he enjoys his sanctuary
There in his castle in bliss he stares
At portraits of many revered ancestors
That decorate his castle walls.
And often he would mumble to them.
“Look at who you have made possible.”
Then he would point to, or touch
Some of the infants, or later birth
To link the early past, to the tranquil now.
Often, he would take the princes and princesses
And teach them the chain of the generation.
A New Nation
When in search of freedom to worship,
They fled from their British homeland
And landed on this foreign soil called America.
They adopted it as their new home,
The British crown hunted them like hounds
And imposed their taxes, a burden upon them.
But they, like oxen, bore the harness;
And when they could no longer
Suffer so great an imposition.
They refused to pay the taxes demanded,
Denouncing taxation without representation
Is bound to be unfair.
Thus they were viciously