A Sunday Afternoon

I was attempting to write with some seriousness what this afternoon was like and add a little poetic license to the material. What do you think? I really don't like it. I have read several of the classics today being Poem-a-Day publishes classics on the week ends such as Emerson and Frost, and some others. They all have some sort of rhyming schedule.I read the article you sent me and there were some new words I'll have to digest such as consonance. What struck me is that publishers today don't want to publish anything that rhymes.Strange! I guess anyone can write anything and call it poetry and get it published. Sort of like the"Emperor with No Cloths" You think you have cloths on so long as someone tells you you do and you are gullible enough to believe them. Dad


First draft

Aaaaaah! The Parable of the prodigal son

Irrevocable condemnation, rancid recrimination

The fire is paraded, a paradigm

Twilight dims

Salutations and evaluations, the gaudy sashay

Horseless carriages sprint hither

Noonday repast evokes slothful slumber

A sonic boom precludes tremors as

Orange blossoms litter the ground

Chickens peck, why the retch? Why! Why! Why!

They are crying, who is crying?

Ravenous wolves, spoiled hounds, canines

Congestive heart failure, a heroine

Meets her love at long last

But the arctic wind does cruelly remind

Is it rain I smell, do my joints foretell?

Aeromancy, a new word is rupestrian

A word–a-day, a poem-a–day

Via the electronic highway


A Sunday Afternoon, Revised

The Parable of a wayward son

A sermon heard many times

I reflect in stillness, Convicted

Ever I remember the purpose

Of the church: to remind us

We are unrighteous, Sinners

Irritating obesity snoring

Unsettling, grating,the baby crying

A cell phone rings, They answer the Call

Annoyed, decrepit man that

I am, so unworthy! Condemnation

The taper’s flame is extinguished

A paradigm, twilight dims,

A foretelling. Tenebrae

The hypocrites sashay, offering

Salutations, Horseless carriages

Careen, bent for Hell, They are Legion


Where and what to eat

Give us our daily bread!

Noonday repast evokes

Slothful slumber

Lay me down in green pastures

A heart races, my heart

Nearer my God to thee

Duty calls! Feed the birds

But I must Remember, The Sabbath!

I sow seeds upon fertile ground

Birds flock and feed, hounds plead

Incessantly pleading. Alms, Alms

Orange blossoms litter the ground

Frankincense and myrrh

Nancy Reagan, a heroine, has died

Gone to be with Ronald

Agape Love!

My joints foretell,

Is it rain I smell?

Springtime storms I remember

Violently serene and ominous! Revelations

Aeromancy, a prophetic word

Rupestrine, a rock or stony word

A word-a-day, a poem-a-day, today

Tomorrow is Monday