Star Time
A child sees a star
and is filled with glee
A scientist sees a star
and tries to find the key
But a poet sees a star
and his mind is set free
poem by C.H. Sund
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Stimulate
(an acrostic)
Sanity awaits those minds that
travel to regions uncharted vast
imagining images inking pages
mysterious and mystical all
until visions release their reason
like books with words finally there
All’s needed is a dreamers mind
to taste the hidden worlds and
enjoy the sanity feast. Welcome
poem by C.H. Sund
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The Old Warrior, dode
(dode: Norwegian...died)
For thirty days his body fought
bribes many, temptations spurned
the warrior had simply chosen
his final act of courage
The end came in the night.
The gentle hand that led him forth
to lands where soldiers dwell
left his mask of death…at peace
Buried with honors, the guns did sound.
Respects were paid, off sped the lives
Then the final bookend of life did come
neatly printed and parchment too
Computers require their labels neat.
Dementia, progressive, reason given
Those that knew, knew this not true
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poem by C.H. Sund
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An Apple by any other Name...
“The apple, reddish plump,
hanging from rooted branch
beckoning to be taken, tasted
to savor deep, sweet, sweet flesh.”
Now these simple words penned
in poetic form take meaning more
as readers ponder the hidden core.
Surely a metaphor they surmise…
Maybe a lady… virginal and all
waiting to be taken in whatever way
or the sinly sin, snake charming bites.
On the mind goes, pondering poets play.
And timid hands keep downward pose
as the poet posts and waits replies
but one lone soul does venture forth
and braves a response to poet’s prose
[...] Read more
poem by C.H. Sund
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In Praise of a Sonnet
(this is not a true sonnet)
A sonnet, in classical form a charm
soft as sun dawn, it wakens spirit love
calling you, wanting you, it takes your arm
and whisks you away on wings of a dove.
There it holds you with its perfect meter
lullabying with it’s iambic tone.
Nothing does compare or could be sweeter
than the dance of love as poets have shown.
So take my hand and let us dance today
with these magic words penned so long ago.
We shall taste them, taste them without delay,
so succulent it makes our souls to glow.
A sonnet, lovingly given… hold tight
As dawn’s first light makes your spirit take flight.
poem by C.H. Sund
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Sand Baggies
Sand, the great barrier we depend
trucked and scooped, our baggies placed.
While Mother Nature flows along
and bides her time testing lines.
We who claim the intelligence,
build our homes at the river's edge
for the beauty of water does allure
and beauty beats down sanity.
And farmers bent on riches more
drain their fields with ditches new
to force the water to flee faster still
so seeds can be planted everywhere.
Now when nature says enough, enough
and sends her waters to reclaim all
we bond together- little ants in kind
and wage our epic war with sand.
[...] Read more
poem by C.H. Sund
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March of the Wheelchairs
In Dakota land lunch is dinner
and dinner supper while lunch is lunch,
as traditions from farmlands go.
Now breakfast is at 6, lunch at 9
dinner at noon, lunch at 3
supper at 7, everything timed.
Day in and day out, better not be late.
Weather fickle, eating ain’t!
Farm traditions, genetics ‘grained.
No surprise, nursing meals,
wheelchairs marching, internal time,
largo moves, staccato fades.
Day in, day out…they’re not late
Wheelchairs marching, marching in
farm traditions, genetics ‘grained.
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poem by C.H. Sund
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What if Faith Spoke?
A lot is asked, suppositions given
treatises delivered, scripture quoted
with but a single word, one syllable…
faith.
Ubiquitous, clichéd, indulgent too,
ringing incessantly from pulpits
this word carries much of mankind
on a whim: “Just have faith, my son! ”
And the doubters? Yes, the Thomases?
Damned they are according to some.
Prayed for by others, even burned.
“Oh ye of little faith…” Repent?
But if faith could speak, extend its hand,
would all come to see it work?
Would we then, at last forever know?
Or would we not want to know?
Perhaps the mystery and answers
are best kept hidden…
behind but a single word,
this word called faith.
poem by C.H. Sund
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Timidity and Temerity
Timidity and Temerity met one day
in forest glen beneath sky reach falls.
In this pleasant setting an epic began
the battle of wills, contested here.
Temerity had ambitious plans
and Timidity had awkwardness,
yet somehow they sat on blanket laid
and talked of love and other things.
And Mother sensing something here
made her water sing her tunes
while sending forest scents wafting
and bubble clouds drifting.
Well by now you guessed the ending
or at least you think you did…
For Timidity and Temerity did join that day
and their name became… Temperance!
[...] Read more
poem by C.H. Sund
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