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    Lyrical and Lovely Thoughts: Poems
    Lyrical and Lovely Thoughts: Poems
    Lyrical and Lovely Thoughts: Poems
    Ebook249 pages1 hour

    Lyrical and Lovely Thoughts: Poems

    By J. Kirby Smith

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    About this ebook

    Its not for me to say exactly how bad or good this poetry is, that of course would be pretentious. I have to say and must say, however, that I feel this is at least very authentic, legitimate verse. Almost all of it rhymes, yet, I like to think it has a voice and attempts a kind of mellifluous flow, if you will {if you will}
    Its been very painful over the years, to witness insincere pseudo poetry sometimes thrive because of its authors name recognition while someone like myself with no public saliency is ignored by so called traditional publishers. Its very irritating.
    Therefore, Im giving it one shot with AuthorHouse and will, if not successful, go back to being merely a pauper, a peasant, a pawn and a poker player!
    In the opening poem, The Vicissitude of the Storm, the gossamer threads represent spider webs blowing in the wind. If Ive ever accidentally written a perfect poem, that would be The Season, in this volume. Its not a very long poem but the alliteration, I like to think, creates an astonishingly nuanced yet heart throbbing winter romance scene.
    In, A Stone in a Pond, I try to convey the sadness I feel of how a baby is often adored by people standing near it who see it through their egos. But when it becomes less amorphous, grows into something possibly wonderful yet different then them; it is scorned for not meeting their specific expectations. I havent written any more poetry for many many years because of becoming weary of fighting unreceptive publishers.
    Yet, Ive read and adored many sincere poets like Poe and Keats. The movie Bright Star about John Keats and his love interest, Fanny Brawne, touched me deeply. And I like to think, I too, have a little something to say
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateNov 18, 2011
    ISBN9781463445362
    Lyrical and Lovely Thoughts: Poems
    Author

    J. Kirby Smith

    J. Kirby Smith was born in Waterloo, IA in 1948 and now lives in Des Moines with his wife, Cheryl. He worked at many blue collar jobs before retiring in late 2015 and attended U.N.I. College in the 1970’s. He loves playing cards for diversion and escapism and still has to have that occasional glass of wine. One motive for writing this novella, he says, is having to live in a world where people stampede one another while constantly texting and, yet, never bother to speak in complete sentences or have any type of meaningful, thoughtful, vis-a-vis conversation. It irks him so badly, having to continuously suffer vacuous impersonal terms like, later, I’m like, you know what I’m sayin’, or, “have a good one”, in public; he’d almost rather stay home! This is why he finds “Lovisa” and “Derrick” so refreshing, by way of comparison, and exhilarating!

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      Book preview

      Lyrical and Lovely Thoughts - J. Kirby Smith

      AuthorHouse™

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403

      www.authorhouse.com

      Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640

      © 2011 by J. Kirby Smith. All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

      Published by AuthorHouse   04/18/2016

      ISBN: 978-1-4634-4538-6 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4634-4537-9 (hc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4634-4536-2 (e)

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2011914327

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      Contents

      The Vicissitude Of The Storm

      Oh My Dear April

      There May Come A Day

      Trillion Year Picnic

      Looking Out Over The City

      From Way Up Here

      The Colours Of Rodney

      Little Memories But Big

      The Cards: A Parable [Humor]

      Your One True Love

      Deeper Is My Dream

      Lingerings

      Lola

      Spring Rain—Lost Love—Memories

      That Youth Of Flaming Heart Long Ago

      The Spider Has No Soul

      My Shores Of Time

      Lorinda

      With Another Man

      On Sentiment & Understanding

      The Wisdom Of Emotions

      I Am A Speck To The Mountains

      Kenda

      November

      October Wine

      Quandary

      Courtesy

      November Witch

      Illustrious Sunday

      This Lady Of Pearl

      Grey Faces

      Erotica

      Melinda

      Senora The Spirit

      Apostrophe To Love

      The Cat

      To That Lake Of My Youth

      Lyrical & Lovely Thoughts

      Winter Dream

      Enchantra—Lady Sleep

      One Love For Me

      Chauntaclear

      The Park

      The Sweetest Summer Hour

      [In All Memory]

      Each Precious Moment

      Madeline

      Encomium To The Wind

      The Season

      Siren of the lake

      Time Passes—And Is Gone

      Autumn Years

      The Shoreline At Sunset

      Her Love

      To a Drunkard – Humor

      Little Girl

      Time Traveler

      The light Through The Window

      My Patriarch, The Night!

      The Twilight At the End of Day

      A Delicate Balance

      What I Want To Do

      Despair

      The Heat Of A Summer Day

      He Said To Me

      The Difference in People

      Her Secret

      Night Leaves

      Animal Heaven

      Thoughts

      Marissa

      With that thought I’m atingled—my love

      The Elms of the Valley

      Fields of Afternoon

      Tired Man

      The Majesty Of Silence

      August Traveller

      Empathy With A Warm Woman

      Morning Distance Runner

      The Conqueror

      Awakening Youth

      Beginning A Letter

      When I Look At Her

      And the Rains Come Softly

      On Humor

      The Performer

      Of Life and Of Love

      I’ll Run Like the wind

      through the country

      A Multitude Of Form

      The sunlight Eros

      The House

      The Bars of Late Evening

      The regretfulness for a shower

      Stone in a pond

      The Winged Horse

      Walking Home

      A Place

      Vacation

      Bad woman passing

      of a long ago time

      If I Were Caught In Time

      My son

      Ebon Steel—from a time long ago

      There Is A Oneness

      Death is a sweet gentle maiden

      Your smile

      Waif

      When My Love Was Young

      Yes, This Is What I Want

      It hath made, better the years

      An Old face

      Young Widow

      Should I Live Forever

      There’s A difference

      The Awakenings: Like Spring

      Another Spring

      All Summer In Her Smile

      Scents

      Maiden Of The River Of Love

      A Child And Nature

      The Paradise Of Your Kiss

      The Velveteen Bat Slinger

      Spring Three

      This Stream Of Beauty

      Simply Her

      A Piquant Total Relationship

      Run With Me—Love With Me—On This Day

      I Am A Simple Man

      Wayward Girl

      Out Near The Porch

      The Man And The Girl

      Anathema, The Night

      Jenny

      My Seventh Mirth

      The Sophisticated Man

      Spring Fever

      The Old Man

      To My Older Lover

      Katrina Of The Heart

      Darling—Our Courtship

      From Then To Now

      First Love

      Ballad of Julia

      Dedication

      I would love so very much to dedicate this book to quite simply the very best friend and dearest sweetheart I will ever know-the former Cheryl Renee Fox—My indispensable and wonderful wife.

      The Vicissitude Of The Storm

      Madness as a quality incorporates with calm

      Be it not a soothing balm for the black widow

      Kills without a qualm from out her indolence

      Hear the stillness stalk with virulence in its rush!

      The gossamer threads no longer brush

      My forehead wafting by I feel the hush

      Of a most voluminous silence

      Turpid clouds abounding form vast quasi things

      While the robin wings away

      Ridden from the darkening day

      I feel the storm!

      Whose harbinger airs are heavy and warm

      The poplar shivering blends her nuance

      Of the storm’s malign pursuance

      Pounding down tempestuously the rains!

      Plummet to the mundane plains

      Thunder claps discordant!

      With the violent torrent

      Tremble down and pierce and mingle!

      While the scathing shrill winds tingle!

      Heart and spine who lie supine

      Amid the storm

      The zenith of the storm

      The rains subside

      Lilies laved now sparkle side by side in the sun

      Crickets chirping Rainbows pied portend the storm is done

      Halcyon skies not rampant anymore

      From the tempest’s downpour

      Twinkle down tranquility from above

      Birds and bees and nature’s love

      Cleansing sultry climes sedate

      How the storm doth renovate!

      High above amidst the lull

      Wings the gull

      But a minute panorama

      Of the storms ensuing drama

      Flown in beauty so we see ineffably

      The vicissitude of the storm

      Oh My Dear April

      Swift are the gentle rains that fall in April

      On the acumen of my memory stores that stir me

      In tenderest thoughts or memories that chill

      My being because they inundate so hauntingly

      Shrill are the winds of April blowing listlessly

      Like a heart unfulfilled, as yet, and full of rue

      That wanders around the world seeking endlessly

      A fullness and understanding to renew

      My heart remembers so many Aprils

      And precise little things from the past that leave me pangs

      So heavy they weigh and yet they are so subtle

      They stab at my heart like fangs

      Oh, I bleed this month; there is something in the air

      That recalls fresher happenings and beginnings in my life

      Simple times that seemed easier to bear

      And a breathless holding hands with my ex-wife

      One certain special day with her—many Aprils ago

      When the clouds were turgid and welling

      The day was windy and it was Sunday

      And my heart was swelling

      I see shadows on windows and walls of the past

      Within rooms where the people have vanished

      The rooms seem so vivid; their details last

      In my mind not a corner’s been banished

      And some of the rooms have meant love affairs gone

      The past is a terrible burden

      The sum of its weight makes me tired and wan

      The present is certainly sudden

      Oh, but April you are so fresh; so sweet

      Although too often bittersweet to me

      Is it possible, yet, that I might meet

      The love that will set me free

      Dear April, I love you even though it hurts

      And I am getting wearier with the years

      And I’m trying; I’m trying; my heart still exerts

      Through a cavalcade (oh, a cavalcade) of tears

      There May Come A Day

      When all the men and mystic maidens

      Of my day begin to wizen,

      This heart will be heavy-laden

      To face a dark horizon.

      Should I outlive my peers

      The fields of clover won’t be sweet again,

      I’ll walk through them alone in those years,

      Thinking of what’s been.

      It saddens me to think of such a thing.

      So gladly I face each new dawn,

      A song in my heart to sing

      Before they’re gone.

      I want to taste life’s sweetness

      And accept every man as he is,

      Before death’s fleetness

      Let him have what’s his.

      Yes, let me kiss my maidens and

      Others too; let us breathe the roses,

      Rejoicing together till the end.

      (And may there be love between us.)

      Trillion Year Picnic

      We have come beyond time to a new time!

      Conducive to new things and hearts unlike gneiss

      With celerity it has so changed that this clime

      Is an attar sweet isle and spice!

      For Whirlwind! He hath destroyed all that was

      In acanthus like prickles of wrath

      The polemics of man have been ended because!

      He tired of hate and their blood baths

      For Whirlwind destroyed the world, vitiating war.

      He destroyed it with seething shrill winds!

      Shrieking tempestuous winds to the core

      Of the planet emended all sin!

      And only the relics of worth have been saved

      The pyramid tombs of the Pharaohs

      Or such as the durable highways so paved

      In the States or the wondrous Greek porticos

      The acropolis, yes, and the Parthenon live

      And some strong

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