Dés Nus

L'horizon orange a tout juste commencé à briller,
Et Dés met sur son manteau, ses seuls vetements,
Et commence à s'écarter pour son maison tout près.
Son but tous les soirs n'est connue que par le créateur.

Parce qu'elle a des taches de rousseur partout,
Dés, je l'appelle, et rien plus. Tous les soirs, ses traces viennent à mon escalier.
Elle est dans non plus qu'un manteau, debout à ma porte.

Elle pose et se moque sa nudite,
Comme si c'etait sa proper invention.
Et Nous passons la nuit dans un bonheur tranquille,
Étant donné que c'est le cas, elle obtient mes félicitations.

Sa belle silhouette brille comme la Lune.
Et dans l'affichage de l'érotisme de le crépuscule,
Comme le déjà-vu d'une chanson de familier,
Embellit mes soirées de cette façon.

Le lever du jour toujours semble trop proche,

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poem by Albert Price
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Great Women - Young and Old

The lights of Bethlehem still burn,
For Ruth’s mother-in-law to return.

Since her unfettered faith, so strong,
Convinced Ruth, with her, to come along.

Facing bravely the consequences of God’s plan,
Ruth, with Naomi, went to the Promised Land.

To live on in Bethlehem was their decision,
Both seeking to receive God’s provision.

God doesn’t stop being God in adversity
Is what Naomi taught Ruth to believe.

So there in Bethlehem, Ruth sought for a man
To help her with the consequences of God’s plan.

And Boaz of Bethlehem, Naomi’s rich kinsman,
Found Ruth to be both charming and winsome.

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poem by Albert Price
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Forever Paradise

Resting on a beautiful day under a sky blazed with gold,
I realized a vision so lovely to behold.
A lush garden watered by gently running streams,
On one side blueberry hills and the other the rainbow of dreams.
Here there is food to satisfy and thrills for the eye,
Enough for all God’s creatures of land, water, and sky.

The garden nymph, residing in the mansion of my mind,
Supplies my super-conscience with sweet devotions divine.
Here our hearts are light as the leaf on an apple tree,
‘Cause every wish and desire is crowned with victory.
Larks and bluebirds visit daily to serenade us from on high
And leave us sweet memories when they launch into the sky.

The reverend here is a woman who outmatches the moon,
She likes dancing through the garden with dessert and spoon.
The preacher is one sensational human and has a vision true.
She sees the Word transcribed in the air and inherent in the dew.
The birds of paradise now in place, wearing feathered robes aglow,
Harmonize with a melodious breeze that began a billion years ago.

poem by Albert Price
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Dispensation of the Divine

Underneath a gorgeous forenoon sky,
In a lush and cool garden of delight,
The green pheasant lifts his exploring eye,
Calling his all wise sage beyond his sight.
His melodious song praises the divine One,
Whose luminance descends in a beam,
Touching within the shrine bright as the sun,
Turning every thing gold as in a dream.
The Lord rests now upon His noble throne,
Calling all to climb up the stairs of stone.

There my reverie of Jesus commenced-
The glory of His office deified,
His knowledge of man’s history there dispensed,
His science of the present thither described.
Wisdom of the future was His display,
Myself humbled to receive His cachet.

Five years of learning was spent at this shrine-
Proving command of as many disciplines-

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poem by Albert Price
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Moonbeams Ballade

Each night you boldly face the jury,
Perched high upon your heavenly throne.
Eloquently repeating your wondrous story
Of never-ending love in flesh and bone.
Giving listening earth a heart of its own
And a yearning for joys still unseen,
Pleasures remaining yet unknown.
Forever may your light glow serene.

Your presence makes no one sorry.
The somber owl has no reason to groan.
His musings from the limestone quarry
Only make his sublime design known.
By your majesty darkness is overthrown.
The romantic cricket sings to his queen
Whose beauty he desires to be shown.
Forever may your light glow serene.

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poem by Albert Price
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The Bamboo Pyramid

That treasury of memories most precious,
With these few words I seek to praise.
It is our school yearbooks of the past,
The repository of events from happier days.

I thank GOD for time to compose this tale
And for youth of spirit to view these scenes.
Cause this adventure began so long ago,
When we started the trek as kings and queens.

The voyage took me far beyond this shore,
Where clocks no longer tick and time marches not,
And the almond-eyed girl strums her instrument
Until sweet dreams overtake me asleep on my cot.

I follow her as my vision assumes a landscape,
Across green pastures and meandering streams.
‘Til a pyramid of bamboo comes into view,
A quite curious structure of bamboo beams.
There at the entrance I climb the marble steps,

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poem by Albert Price
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A Memorial To Martin Luther King Jr.

Words would fail me if I might assay
To articulate the courage of this man.
The numerous facets of his dossier
Are subject for song in a distant land.
Awakened in youth from serene dreams
By the melodious blast of Israel’s horn.
Tall standing received earth’s esteems,
Accepting God’s charge wherefore he was born.

His marble image cleaves the bluest sky,
And his halo is now a crown about his brow.
His peace of mind earth can no longer deny,
For he has now fulfilled his earthly vow.
It can only suppose with the midnight of the mind,
What may be reason’s welcome morning star.
One day he may return even more divine,
With a holier task from God who reigns from afar.

There’s no thunder heard from Sinai’s height,
And we see no parting waves at Jordan’s bank.

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poem by Albert Price
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Ballade Of Eternal Bliss

Here the sun shines soft and warm—
Caressing all in vales and on hill—
It gives a glow to every inherent form—
And reveals for every eye a thrill.
Of here they never get their fill—
For this is Bliss, an endless treasure—
Where our dream is the Lord’s will—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.

The garden is a lush, green platform—
Big blooms with the fluffiness of chenille—
Songbirds’ music raise a storm—
Their feathered robes fill the bill.
Wings spread they fly away at freewill—
Along the curvy course of the river—
They seek the Lord’s grace with skill—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.

The dream cottage, fancy for the norm—
With a stone paved path to the doorsill—

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poem by Albert Price
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Corn-fields of Endor

Standing on a hill of Jezreel,
Watching growing corn in the field,
Listens she does to the birds’ song
And to the trilling crickets’ chirp.
The sun now pass the most far hills
Means the days’ work is over and done.
Soon the night guard will shut city gates
And all eyes will yield to the dark.
By music of the spirit of silence,
The visions of rest are made to dance.

Then in the middle of the darkest night,
She arises from slumber and the bed,
And leaves the sweet relaxing visions
She had waltzing through her head.
Laying aside all her night garments,
Off she runs to her nightly chore.
Running around the corn they planted,
Makes her sacred circle ‘bout the field.
Magic footsteps giving blessing

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poem by Albert Price
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Reality For Equality

This morning was same as any other in the past,
However this day our ladies felt need for a task.
The morning sun had just began to gleam
In the very fertile land of girlhood dreams.
Out they step together like twins of a gazelle,
Like rose of sharons around a stone-walled well.

A fundamental right they hope everyone enjoys,
The one that had been for only men and boys.
The ladies with dignity remove their top,
Letting their breasts out and about to flop.
Gorgeous nymphs reveal their soft projections
Among grandmother gourds of human confection.

With less care than bones blowing bubbles,
They dismiss any concern for puritan troubles.
Their lactiferous glands looking very real,
Sweetness alive there to see and fun to feel.
Some full and some small but all full of bounce,
Beauty invisible now pleasure by the ounce.

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poem by Albert Price
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