Tag: myPoems

This town is over five-hundred years old.
People shared, worked, played and no one deceived.
Old memories have stories yet untold.
Closeness is more related as perceived.
One uncle worked in the rice fields, a prey.
They said the soldiers took him far away.
World War the Second forced people to hide.
At night, the people went up the hillside.
They lived on the hills until the way was clear.
Caribou hauled baskets of kids inside.
Angels and saints do exist in our lives.

There was a long wooden bridge that would hold.
The heads were displayed as the whole town grieved.
There was sadness and mourning to behold.
People spat in disgust and were quite peeved.
The simple town was destroyed by the way.
The war ended on a September day.
Hill people came down as peace reigned worldwide.
The air seemed so quiet and void outside.
The people endured as they persevere.
Rebuilding was done where people reside.
Angels and saints do exist in our lives.

There were ancient statues of wood and gold.
People worshipped at the church and believed.
A major took the statues home to hold.
His house burned downed by the statues aggrieved.
A Holy statue sweated in display.
This milagro brought people in to pray.
Five children witnessed but were pushed aside.
Mom saw His Head and Heart sweat but denied.
The statues moved and soldiers left in fear.
The church was spared by the statues inside.
Angels and saints do exist in our lives.

A fresh, clear river once flowed uncontrolled.
A large Asian dam was not well received.
The low lying town would flood as foretold.
People drank, bathe, laundered and were relieved.
Fishermen used long canoe boats everyday.
Rice paddy fields grew along marshy bay.
A fiesta was held from far and wide.
A strange little girl was sleeping outside.
She pointed at the flood from coming near.
Monsoons and flooding occur but subside.
Angels and saints do exist in our lives.

Our Sierra lands are here to be sold.
Lands exist as tall coconut trees weaved.
Two sisters remain but are getting old.
My maternal side was all here conceived.
Grandpa Juan built this town: his survey.
Grandma Valing fed people: her bouquet.
Skilled at carpentry with small tools – he eyed.
Bargained at Chinese flea markets – she tried.
Their labor of love will always appear.
Both used innovative ways to provide.
Angels and saints do exist in our lives.

ENVOIE
The town thrives with common folks who would say.
Their purpose is hard work and without pay.
The simple and meek have no need for pride.
The poor continue in unburdened stride.
Divine ways are inspired and sincere.
Examples of love are here as our guide.
Angels and saints do exist in our lives.

First attempt at chant royal…
Revised original 20060321-Stay Alive (deleted)…

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