Green River Valley
Your face 'tis mirrored in the river-
Along its banks where moss and algae grow-
Shadows of the dark forests unfold slowly-
'Neath the lemon moon- your reflection- simply glows;
Evening has locked its ebony blanket in-
'Cross the rivers green-gardened theme-
Fireflies flutter their brillance and gossemer wings-
While the river unfolds unfathomnable things;
In the valley under the mountains spires-
The zenith touches the skies broken white clouds-
And the fireflies- now even in daylight-
Mirror your reflection- in the river so proud;
Oh such divine whispers you share with me-
Cupping my chin in your most loving of hands-
Moving one in a caressed sweep 'cross my cheek-
Oh 'tis magical-this green gardened river land;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Dancing? ? ?
Your music 'tis filled with rubatos-
A slow dance gone very wrong-
Surrounded by my guardian angels-
With Gods forgiveness, i sing His Psalms.
His light shining brightly-
His leading of my way-
On the straight and narrow path-
Where Gods children play.
Rumors gone wild for three decades-
Laced with treacherous adjectives-
Believe none of what you hear-
And only a fourth of what you see.
Lost in your music as always-
I am afraid i just cannot follow-
Your tempo 'tis too dark and unforgiving-
A slow dance that is much too hollow.
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Paper Trail Shredder
The calamity remains
.....In desecrated skies
.....Where predominate arrogants
.....Go seeking perfect alibi's
Victimless shambles lay at my feet
.....Crumbled and broken shards of regret
......Fallen and disavowed souls of disdain
.....Their entire lifetime totally upset
But they were never victimless
.....You crushed their spirits with your mercenary hires
.....'Follow, follow, ' following me for over three decades
......You won't be satisfied 'til i have expired
Yes, this is to you...it is a diatribe...to a very haughty arrogant soul
Who has made more enmies than he knows what to do with.
Thinking that you can buy everyones silence was your first mistake.
'To the VICTOR goe the spoils? ' Marion? 1975 (The Daffodil Planter)
Dedicated to: All of my friends who helped me with this most tedious
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Awaiting June~~~
The mourning doves run rife through the Mimosa
While a deluge of California sun beats down
Everywhere is getting acquainted with somewhere
While the bougainvillea leave their fingerprints all around;
Messengers are still a little invisible-
As many a blind eye might attest--
Windows of Springtime sunsets prevail
Surviving the mountains out west;
The in between of the seasons is nearing...
Awaiting in the trails- is the sizzling of June-
Bathing itself in warmth, a bit early, is May
Impatient for that perfect Summer Moon;
So here's to the Seasons of flowers and the shore
The woodlands and mountains so high
Spectators to the greenhouses of seasons & mighty sea
Welcoming all with a most longing sigh;
Two seasons dancing together...
Near to the riverbanks are the Pheasant and Quail
Past experience has truly taught us
That Sun and Blue Sky oft' times prevail;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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A New Age Is Dawning
Relentless- -the human equation
Played under spurious skies
Its illogical Earthen cover
Courting one anothers demise;
Half thought out knowledge...
Half seen Earthen spheres...
Half spoken mistakes made
Over semi rainbow infused years;
Promises dissolving all the words
Reminders of so many empty tears...
Reckless abandon-courted disturbingly-
Bathed in treacherous jeers;
Ghostly silence... unexpected...
As it pulls at the skies unreal grey
Sacrafices and trials finally shared-
While atheists-now- kneel and pray! ;
Where once there seemed nothing to believe in
Where once everything was angery and a lie
Where once no one cared about this Earth
Or how many innocents had died! ;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Fathomless
Beaches covered with sands of time--
Coast lines edges in scalloped design-
Lighthouse beams shine at whats left behind...
While the seas ebb and flow leave nothing to find;
Just ragged soaked memory echos--
In the shells i put to my ears...
Just oysters minus the pearls of wisdom...
My body 'tis drenched from crying my tears;
With no comforting harbor even in view...
With no loving lagoon harboring youl...
With no alibaster sands-all brand new--
Even with our love once deep as the blue;
Yes, the beaches are covered in sands of time--
Much like an hour-glasss but with a chime--
Ringing the bells for the season of the reason to rhyme...
For loosing you 'tis a fathomless crime;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Evils Hidden
Its the nasty little sting of corrupt
Its the morbid fascination of ones mind
A certain kind of psychopathic personality
That bends, their souls, into unkind.
Its the idenity crisis, billowing inside
Its the omnipotentent grandiose of manic
Of such a beast as this
That stirs a whole site and family into panic.
Its the difference in our nationalities
For i am french-norwegian-italian and he, irish
That pulls at his grotesque psyche,
As he turns us, all into his fish.
He has his reasoning down pat
A Philosophical sort of tirade, of heck
About stealing from the poor to feed the rich
When truth be, most all, of we, live pay check to paycheck!
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Chess Or Cards Anyone?
Controversal stalemate?
Strikes adversity
As it once slumbered
Too caught up in its own comfort
Unprepared for any crisis
That is ever near
With the brush of your pen
Opening up yet another can of worms
Long since forgotten
And back shelved
Only to break wide open once and again
You would bite your own nose off
To spite yourself
Your own ego has you bathed
In Pride and Arrogance
Where once your wisdom bloomed
Much as a new flower
Now it gets lost
In the bungling-so sure of himself man
Who can let nothing rest
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Alexa))) -Aka-(((Billy
It's two steps forward for you
And three steps back
You, residing in insulation and cob webs
Waiting...waiting...waiting to attack
A reason for treason?
A mercenary for hire?
A Tommy wind mill helper?
It is toward the green-back you aspire
No feelings of remorse to cease you
Cold with absence of affect
Stoic as a monolith standing solo?
Your footsteps, i failed to detect.
But oh the smoke...yes the smoke (cough)
You given away by vents nearly closed
Slats and boards and boxes stored with records
Where diviant monsters grow extra toes
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Aubade
Mystical Morning Song came whispering
It's melodious rhythmic sounds
For the spring time lays in the Garden's
Of lovers floral bouquet abed in the ground
Waiting for your happiness in your love to grow
You continue to wonder in absolute awe
While prolonging whispers of lover's musical breeze
That embraces The Spring and welcomes Winter's thaw
The warmth of the sun rays come in loves burning
Filling all nature and you with serene
Allowing all new Spring buds of love to open
Tantalizing aroma's of new memories to be made
Come the Mystical Morning Song Spring
Dedicated to: Jeri, Aka, Morning Song
With love
A Morning song is an Aubade
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poem by Theodora Onken
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