Ward Stories
(Column: Ward Stories)
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If you enjoyed the last edition, hopefully you will enjoy this one. This edition of Ward Stories features poetry by LeVien Hill, Cherb1969, and Jackie Dukes. LeVien's poetry is often inspired by his Messianic Jewish background. Cherb1969 submitted through the Internet an homage to the love of her life. Jackie Dukes submitted a piece that will stimulate your imagination. Enjoy!
In Memory Of Our Beloved Mother
By LeVien Hill

A smile to the Black Rose.

Smile I do the Black Rose
Thou Goddess:
Her power holds wisdom’s way;

…Her grace by the stars hold Heaven’s Host.

By her Father:
By night an ocean of love thee darkened sky.

Her ground wise share
His Lourd host wise still
An abundance of wisdom spill the chains of life.

An autumn succumb;
A summer swelter.
Thee naked winter forest
And spring reprise,

Mystery and Poet eye
Beg endless tomorrows

…His word.
By Cherb1969

This man.

Not often did I see
But our souls were connected in some universal eternity

The light and comfort he brought to me
Were not of this world
But beyond rivers run free

Through this coarse mind and heart
He touched my soul

Accepted my earthly form
And saw the whole

Upon touch I would tremble
With description unnamed

Like a finely turned instrument
A wild animal tamed

The fluid energy of two became one
In sync with oceans, moon and sun

For the first time in life
This girl could face strife
No longer was see living on the edge of a knife

Her movement grew stronger
For something had opened in her being
A blockage of her third eye seeing

This man is love
A healer of truth
A singer of pain
A poet of spirits

This man is beautiful from first gaze
A gift to this world from above

This man is love

I embrace the memory of his smile
For not often did it come
I dream of his strength as if a lesson from God
That we all are one

When we first met I saw something clear
A glow surrounding everything near
The voices of the past began to disappear

I could not contain my touch of his skin
It was like I could feel what was within

I call him beautiful and lovely, words overused
But new to me then
But now they are wearing thin

I lost his presence in my world
Through distrust and anger - the illness of sin. so again I begin

There is no illusion
Simply confusion and chaos to be let free
The kindest soul I've encountered became my greatest enemy

My childhood friend
A kindred soul
From him I stole what is not mine to hold

His illumination inside one cannot divide
Was the lesson I've learned about what I yearned

You see that light was also in me

He may never know of my true inner glow
For I showed him less than he deserved
But through me and through him - the Universe spoke

This man is beautiful are the words that came through

This man - these words are my eternal gift to you.

To Firstbreak
by Jackie Dukes

I draw near to one of them, the lowest,
Choces, Mère and Père, undreaming even of fields
Not so much of place as of renewed hope,
snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled
"Now it's my turn to sing!"
What? What can you do?
—The place the road ends, that patch of white paint
Only a fox whose den I cannot find.
snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled
Floating on the sky.
Down the road, at Cypress Gardens, a woman
The line between the outside and this room
At the end of the road. Even if they are staring
Like an old soldier, wakeful, in his tent!
And up there I cannot tell if it is still
In Florida, it's strawberry season—
III. Earliest Recorded Northern Explorers: The Greeks and the Vikings
I've drifted somewhat from the distant heart
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
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