� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
�
The scary thing? I decided to try another simple style of poetry. Haiku. I never got the techniques in the past, so I never understood how the seemingly disconnected lines were related. I always thought it was like a Picasso--now understand, I do not like his style at all--distorted and an easy out for making "art" or in this case "poetry." Lucky for me I found a website that demonstrates different techniques and was able to try my hand at a haiku. I'll begin with my effort...
Sinking into the heat
Lavender, rose and musk
Scented bubbles soothe
���-- Shiloh, April 1, 2005
Courage; honor
A price and sacrifice willingly made
--Let freedom ring!!
����-- Shiloh, April 3, 2005
One universe
One world
One person making a difference
����-- Shiloh, April 3, 2005
Purring
The feel of warm, soft, sleek fur
The cat's meow
����-- Shiloh, April 3, 2005
Candlelight within
A beacon to roaming spirits
The jack-o-lantern knows the way
-- Shiloh, Oct. 2, 2005
Scary, happy, sad--
The jack-o-lantern
Has many faces
-- Shiloh, Oct. 2, 2005
Dark night, new moon
Stingy Jack walks with nowhere to be
Devil's ember carried in hollowed gourd
-- Shiloh, Oct. 2, 2005
Irish beginning, Irish tradition
Carried across the sea
Carved gourds, turnips and pumpkins
The jack-o-lantern am I
-- Shiloh, Oct. 2, 2005
Farmhouse Memories
If I could go back,
Back into childhood and relive
Those days gone by
Oh how happy I would be.
To live again those moments
Of peace, simplicity and harmony.
To be once more a small child
In my grandparents' little farmhouse,
Listening to the drone
Of Grandpa's tractor outside
While helping with chores
Or playing with dolls.
Then to hear the motor stop
And Grandpa coming,
Carrying in Baby Michael--
Asleep from his tractor ride
Out in the field.
Oh how happy I would be
To live again those moments gone by
Of peace, simplicity and harmony.
���-- Shiloh, March 1993
�Sunshine warms her soul; a
��Heart of gold beats with-
��In her chest.
��Lady in purple, she
��Often tinkers on the Internet, saying
"Howdy-do" to friends far and near.
���-- Shiloh, January 27, 2003
He Is the Wind (3rd and final version)
Power in the four elements
Earth, Wind, Fire, Water--
There's only one I see
�������with masculinity,
All macho and tough,
Needing to show off.
Trees shudder beneath his breath
As he sends high waves crashing
�������across the distant shores.
Do not make him mad.
For in the form of tornadoes
He will act with a vengeance.
Destruction will then
�������lie in his wake.
Yet true to form he will lose
His bluster in the end and retreat,
Leaving a calm in his absence--
�������Who is he? He is the Wind.
����-- Shiloh, April 2002
Headless Horseman. Watch out Icabod!!
�����Make for the covered bridge!
Apples on a stick. Candied and
�����Carmel...mmmmmmm!
Pretty princesses trick-or-treating with
�����wizards, goblins and devils.
Party at Frankenstein's Castle! Pass it on.
�����They'll be doing the Transylvania Twist
������and having a monstrously good time.
Yellow eyes peering from the darkness. A
������black cat on the prowl. Mmmrroww.
Haunted Houses. Hmmm I wonder, does
�����Casper live here? I hope...? *gulp*
Arachnophobia! Are those...spiders I see
�����crawling out of the sink's drain?
�����*trembles in terror*
Luring of innocents to a trap. No, don't go
�����into the forest! That's where the killer
�����wants you! Mmmaaann! She tripped
�����and sprained her ankle.
Lagoon--Creature from the black depths.
O' Hallow's Eve. The one night of the year
�����when the dead walk freely among the
�����living.
Witches' brew. "Double, double toil and
�����trouble;/Fire burn, and cauldron
�����bubble!"
Eeeeeeekkkkk! That wasn't Casper I just
�����saw! *faints dead away in an unladylike
������heap* (Pardon the pun.)
Eeeewww!!! Fresh brains. Is the good doctor
������making a second bride for Frankie?
Noises: screaming victims, the Wolfman
������howling. Is tonight the full moon?
����-- Shiloh, October 20, 2004
My Stripling Warrior
As I sit by the window
In my room I ponder and wait
For him, whom I know is to be mine.
I know naught, but a Stripling
Warrior he will be,
Like one of Helaman's of old.
Valiant and true, stong and
Brave, giving all he has
To help another and then me--
A Good Samaritan indeed.
As I sit by the window
In my room I ponder and wait
For him, whom I know is to be mine.
I pray nightly for his
Safety and happiness.
I know naught, but I have
Felt his comforting presence
Close around me. I hope and strive
To be worthy of him when
At last we meet.
As I sit by the window
In my room I ponder and wait
For him, whom I know is to be mine.
Will he be blonde or dark-haired?
Tall or short? I know naught,
Nor care naught, as long as
He loves me. What will he
Think of me, I wonder?
Will my personality be enough
With my plainness of face?
As I sit by the window
In my room I ponder and wait
For him, whom I know is to be mine.
I anticipate, but am in no
Hurry. The bloom of romance
Will blossom in time. Then
Together we'll love, learn and
Grow old, living a life of service.
����-- Shiloh, April 1998
Vines of ivy intertwined for a bower,
�����making a perfect lovers tryst.
A dozen long-stemmed red roses for the one
�����you love.
Lacy hearts given with love and
�����friendship: pink, red and ivory.
Eternal love. A flame that will burn long
�����and bright, never going out.
Now and forever I'll be there, standing by
�����you faithfully.
True love's first kiss beneath
�����the light of the silvery moon.
I thee wed, to have and to hold, from this
�����day forward.
No one should be alone on Valentine's Day,
�����care to..."Be Mine?"
Eros, Aphrodite's mischievous archer.
�����Watch out or his arrow could strike your
�����heart when you least expect it.
����-- Shiloh, February 9, 2005
Memorial For the Patriot Father
15 September 1810--
Silence.
The night is rent by the peal of a bell--
The Patriot Father calls.
People flock to the church to hear his cry--
��������"Viva Mexico!
��������Viva la independencia!"
With this vision comes a heavy price--
The village Guanajuato ransacked,
Spaniards murdered,
A brutal march on the capital.
After 11 long years spent in battle--The dream of Hidalgo comes true.
Independence is won!
But not all live to see this joyous moment--
Death keeps the martyred priest away.
14 September, now--
Silence.
People gather in the town square--
Waiting with baited breath.
On the final stroke of 11, the president appears--
Ringing the renowned liberty bell,
Remembering times past.
He voices again that famous cry--
��������The "Grito de Dolores,"
��������"Viva Mexico!
��������Viva la independencia!"
All across Mexico, silent crowds respond--
Echoing that proud shout,
Filling the air with confetti and waving flags.
Everywhere, the eye sees green, white and red--
Symbolizing independence, religion and union.
15 September, now--
Silence.
The people of Mexico sleep--
Preparing for the coming activities.
The day holds much promise and more fun--
Fiestas, rodeos, bullfights
And plenty of spicy foods!
The people joyfully feast throughout the celebration--
Eating tamales, empanadas, quesadillas and more,
Washing it all down with tequila, cerveza or champurrado--
Venders line the streets to sell it all.
The festivities seem to have just begun, yet--
Things have wound down,
The sun has set.
The commemoration is finished, leaving one final gift--
A brilliant display of fireworks for all to enjoy.
����-- Heather and Shiloh, September 2002
Eeesh, I had no idea I've done as many poems as I have. Wow. I guess even though it's my not forte in writing, that hasn't stopped me from trying.
I know they're out of order, but then again they were scattered throughout this journal, some of them, to begin with. Others I've penned in the blank book given to me by a very good friend, so I added them as I came to them.
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