Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Writers Unite (poetry assignment)

Writers group, what a delight
Meeting with like minded people
Sharing the written word

Janet pens inspirational poetry
Bev journals from the heart
Sue's writing a quilling book
Andy's contains environmental issues

Glynis, our fearless leader
Teaches this motley crew
With passion, perfection and love

Who am I amongst these
A unique scribe- a story teller
God directs my pen
As words flow onto paper

I'm not like anyone else
Nor do I plan to be
Content with who I am

Monday, June 10, 2013

The Tale of a Man Names Lou

Once, in a land of Lubadoo
There lived a man that folks called Lou
Now Lou, in everybody’s eyes
Was perceived to be very wise
And often times with nodding head
They all agreed to what Lou said.
Lou lived in a gray castle tall
And roses climbed the old stone wall
In lovely red, year after year
The bloom of roses would appear
And many paused to gaze in awe
At the red roses that they saw
One day in restless discontent
Lou stopped to smell their perfumed scent
He shouted, “Hear what I’ll tell you
These red roses are really blue!”
Folks shook there heads at what Lou said
For how can blue one day be red?
But Lou walked up and down the street
And every day he would repeat
 That what was red is really blue
And slowly folks agreed with Lou
For wasn’t Lou still, after all
The wise man in that castle tall?
Then came that sad and solemn day
When Lou was old and passed away
The mourners stood out on the street
Where rose-petals fell at their feet
 They told their children ‘here lived Lou
Who taught us red is really blue’
Now no one questions anymore
What they had all believed before
As generation rise and fall
Blue roses climb the castle wall
It seems they never, ever knew
These roses were not always blue
Time’s centuries have come about
And no one stops to think or doubt
For who can say red is not blue?
Nobody here has heard of Lou
Or how one day he simply said
'These roses are not really red'
…and visitors are mystified
To hear folk speak with love and pride
At these blue roses; how they’ve grown
Year after year against the stone
For no one here remembers Lou
Or wonders that red is not blue

The moral of this little tale
Is simply this; Truth does not fail
Though generations come and go
The truth remains unchanged and so
Before we teach that red is blue
We should make sure that it is true
Be careful then that none deceive
Lest generations thus believe
A vile untruth told to be true
For those red roses are not blue
Yet everyone within their youth
Were taught what others thought was truth
This is the poem I wrote for our homework assignment.