Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 7, 2019

Her little angel~by rldubour


 

 

Her little angel

Image result for Her little angel

He ran into his Mommy’s room,
just barely over four.
And saw his Mother lying there
Not moving on the floor.

He cried and tried to wake her up.
“Mommy wake up!” “Wake up Mommy!”
Remembering what he should do
“Mommy…this is Tommy!”

“Hope that you can hear me Mommy,”
“I’ll get some help for you.”
He ran to get the telephone
He knew just what to do!

His parents taught him 9 1 1
for all emergencies
He yelled into the telephone
“Come help my Mommy please!”

The ambulance did not take long
No time they had to spare.
Tommy let them in the front door
So Mom could get their care.

They rushed her to the hospital
and little Tommy too!
They took her to the trauma room
then up to I.C.U.

Unconscious for a solid week
finally in a room.
First time that she could really speak
her face still shown of gloom.

The doctors said they want to meet,
this hero of a son
Bless your son for all his actions
You would have been all done.

With glossy eyes she looked at them
could not hold back the tears.
All those thoughts locked in her mind
went rushing back two years.

You could not have seen my Tommy!
Been gone two years today!
This moment on they all believed
Heaven… is not far away!

 

 

 

 

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Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 7, 2019

Rocks~by rldubour


 

 

Rocks

Image result for Rocks

Have you ever thought about this?
We see them every day!
Pick up one and take closer look,
our earth was made from clay.

There are meaningful expressions,
that you’ll hear people say.
“He’s like the rock of Gibraltar!”
Steadfast in every way.

Using rocks as our examples,
to built our life upon.
Our foundation would not crumble,
as time is marching on.

Rocks all come in different colors,
and they don’t seem to mind.
There are many shapes and sizes
and many a different kind!

Rocks can have so many meanings,
“We don’t have to search.”
“Jesus said to Saint Peter,”
“You’re the rock of my church.”

 

Next time you hold a simple rock
think of your foundation.
Of how you handle daily life
and all your frustration.

Today I’ll get myself a rock,
and place it where I write.
I’ll think about how hard it is.
Through life-each day and night.


 

 

Daily missive for Friday the 7th of June.

With the passing of years
There is a chance
For learning
Take nothing as a given
Or for granted
With every loss
Is realisation
Life is temporary
A contemporary state
Supplementary to the
Passage of the soul
We are fragile
In the flesh
Living in borrowed clothes
Designed
To enhance the experience
Of teetering on the verge
Of something other
Waiting for an answer
Is time limiting
When what is done
Will always be
We are fragile
Our existence
Brief and fleeting
A ripple on the surface,
In extension
We will go on
Washed up
On some distant shore
Surviving in extant
Newly aware
Of the ambiguity
The uncertain nature
Of fragility
Is both a weakness
And our greatest strength


Friday! Time for an American Hero! Today is:

 

Knowing your American Heroes

GEORGE WASHINGTION CARVER (c. early 1864-January 5, 1943)

Image result for GEORGE WASHINGTON CARVER (c. early 1864-January 5, 1943)

In Newton County Missouri
Most likely eighteen-sixty-four.
His exact date of birth unknown
Record keeping was very poor.

In Marion Township, Diamond Grove
He was born into slavery.
A farm owner Moses Carver
Purchased George and his mother Mary.

Not sure of whom his father was
Worked as a logger or he farmed.
Reports talk of an accident
Where he was fatally harmed.

The Carver’s opened up their home
So Mary’s family would be free.
George his sister and his mother
All were kidnapped suddenly.

By Confederate night raiders
Taken to Arkansas and sold.
Moses Carver hired John Bentley
His race horse was the cost instead of gold.

John Bentley found only Carver
He was orphaned and near death.
Suffering from whooping cough
For George T’was hard to take a breath.

Unable to work as a farm hand
The fields he roamed brought happiness
Becoming very knowledgeable
He dreamed of being a botanist.

Moses and his dear wife Susan
Treated him like he was their own.
And “Aunt” Susan would teach him well
For George a home where love was shown.

In eighteen-hundred-and-ninety-six
Now called the Tuskegee University.
For forty-seven years he worked
Until his death in forty-three.

A list of his accomplishments
And all his commemorations.
Happiness was being helpful
Was humble in his vocations.

First African-American
To receive a National Monument.
Many things named in his honor
A man of true attainment.

In eighteen-hundred-ninety-three.
He entered paintings at the World’s Fair
Carver was a talented artist
His love for painting was always there.

Mr. George Washington Carver
On January 5th, 1943.
He closed his eyes for eternity
An American Hero he would be.

 

AUTHOR NOTE* From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
On his grave was written the simplest and most meaningful summary of his life. He could have added fortune to fame, but caring for neither, he found happiness and honor in being helpful to the world.
On July 14, 1943, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt dedicated the George Washington
Carver National Monument at Diamond, Missouri.
He appeared on U.S. commemorative stamps in 1948 and 1998, and a commemorative half-dollar coin from 1951 to 1954.
The USS George Washington Carver (SSBN-656) is also named in his honor.
In 1977 he was elected to the Hall of Fame for Great Americans
In 1990 Carver was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame
Iowa State University awarded Carver the Doctor of Humane Letters in 1994.
For almost 50 years he remained at Tuskegee, teaching and pursuing his scientific studies. His work included finding over 300 uses for the peanut. Among Carver’s many inventions were a way of turning soybeans into plastic, wood shavings into synthetic marble, and cotton into paving blocks. He also disseminated his extensive agricultural research to farmers through conferences and demonstrations.
When he died on January 5, 1943, Carver was widely recognized for his intelligence, humility, and inventiveness. George Washington Carver was never married.

 

Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 6, 2019

Rivers Wild~by Fred Tunks


 

 

Rivers Wild

Image may contain: mountain, outdoor, nature and water

Every since I was a child
I’m somewhat drawn to
Rivers Wild
Fed by snowstorms in December
Settled down in rocks of Ember
When its gets warm in June or so
Rivers Wild
Begin to flow
At first a peaceful little stream
In such a truly wondrous scene
Granite rocks with moss attempt
To hold the flow until they’re spent
Down the mountains throughout
the canyons
Gathering strength you can’t imagine
Tributaries lending each a hand
Cutting paths throughout the land
Like the butcher’s sharpened blade
Like the farmers pointed spade
Over time that cannot hold them
Rivers Wild
Become an Ocean
Only then to rise as mist
And travel back were God exist
Rivers Wild
Again persist
To cut away again the land
Well I’ve come to think I understand
Rivers Wild
Immortal like the heart of the
Highlands where they are
Born!

©frederickgtunks

Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 6, 2019

The silence of the hill~by Hana Shishiny


 

 

The silence of the hill

Image may contain: sky, plant, flower, tree, cloud, outdoor and nature

Butterflies dancing all around
On a dancing floor,of lavender
The aroma is filling that cosmic bound
Hand in hand,…intoxicated by inner wonder…

Love walking in all spells
In the breeze a caress
In the air, voluptuous smell
On lips,wet taste,by a longing obsessed…

In sunny summerdays.that was our hideaway
Hidden in the motion,of the lavender play
Stealing some shade,and a nectarous
Smell
enjoying the peace and silence of the hill…

In your eyes,The sun Ray’s rest..
On my skin..endless forest
We follow the sight of flying birds
A world of ecstasy..no need for..words

By Hana Shishiny
June 2019

Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 6, 2019

PRE-MONSOON RAIN~by Saroj K Padhi


 

 

PRE-MONSOON RAIN

Image may contain: sky, tree, outdoor and nature

Wsh you dears a conscious World Environ Day

Tickled by the touch of the pre-Monsoon rain
As I awake in the lousy evening
to the glimmer of fading stars;
and try to catch some past magic moments-
wafted on the hasty wings of Time,
my doors tremble at the threatening sounds of thunder
reenacting the tragic scenes of the recent cyclone
as I tremble in the remote corner of a Foni-ravaged town,
when my God-forsaken land languishes
like a living skeleton under sands
ravished by an angry Indra’s frown…

the wildly-tossed boughs
whisper some dark secrets about life here-
stark and bare, bereft of cheer
like Foni- devastated trees under thunder
shedding silent drops of tear
without leaves, flowers, in wait for a shower,

roads are clumsy
drives without direction
life without jest or rest,
without much rhyme or reason
living in this city of no season;
we are Nature’s victim for our own treason !

COPY RIGHT : @ SAROJ K. PADHI/ 05 June, 2019

Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 6, 2019

FLIGHT~by Saroj K Padhi


 

 

FLIGHT

The butterfly just off its cocoon
is on a joyous ride into the blue spaces of happiness
after a bout of pre-natal turmoil 
inside a dark womb,
when an earnest Sun comes out
to kiss her newly freckled wings
born inside the bosom of dense fog
as we look on
silently like cyclone-ravaged bare trees
at the magic of transformation
in the wide open eyes of a charmed time !

Landing on the island of wonders
you pick corals of joy on the white sands
when like snails we raise our heads from under slime,
roam like invertebrates on the barren lands
with packs of dreams in heads burning under hot clime;

we too wait to take wings on the brink of dead rivers
when dreamy dragon-flies swirl around
for a healing touch from Monsoon showers !

Copy roght : @ Saroj K. Padhi/
06.06.2019

Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 6, 2019

The Parnassian Cascades~by Lopamudra Mishra


 

 

The Parnassian Cascades

Image may contain: 1 person, standing and outdoor

The Parnassian cascades touched your fathomless sea,
I started mingling with the torrential typhoon
My wooden bridge was doused by the foamy waves 
Bohemian clouds swayed me with emotive monsoon

The drops drenched all my inside
The swirling water stirred my thirsty nerves
My famished soul desires for sensuous feast
The aroma of saline breeze is breaking my nerves,

Intoxicating me to move towards the cooling shade,
The early sun rays hide my blushes,
My beautiful long tresses dipped with luscious rain,
I started hiding myself in mirror flashes

Lovely tinges of togetherness, nothing wrong
Only adding grace to my heart’s beautiful tour,
My enhancing glow sings your song,
Now I am being addicted to your lusty downpour.

Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 6, 2019

Satanic Act~by Benedixio Moore Khoti


 

 

 Satanic Act

Image may contain: text

Like a watchman awaiting the break of dawn

you await her arrival each night

just to ignite up a fight,

You push her into the darkest recesses of her mind

arresting her pride and assaulting her dignity

caning her heart with strokes of depressing words

tormenting the sanity in her

with the sting of your vulgarity

that arouses waves of pain and shame

that steals her peace and integrity

then

with a deflated heart

She dives into a bed of sorrows

choking on a heavy sob stuck in her throat,

She curls and buries

her head in a blanket of worries

where she dreams of an eternal sleep –

a sleep forever.

Note: it is inhuman to lead fellow Man asunder.
No matter the circumstances let us let love lead.

Image courtesy ;Google

©BENEDIXIO’SDIARIES MMXIX

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