Emmanuel is born to the Father's delight -Israel’s long-awaited hope. The Word sang a poignant story. A pure melody for each heart.
It was a soft, melodious tune for those with ears to hear. The whispered melody arrived like the tiny beats of a hummingbird’s wing.
The dawning light of a new beginning altered our precepts and notions, arousing a sanguine hope in a songless world.
The morning light hummed as the Light sang Troubadour’s song of man's redemptive story.
Black Bough Poetry Submission
2. The Troubadour’s Song
Emmanuel is born
to the Father's delight.
Israel’s long-awaited hope.
The Word sang a pure melody.
It was a soft, melodious tune
for those with hearts to hear.
Its whispered melody arrived as soft as
the tiny beats of a hummingbird’s wing.
The dawn of a new beginning
altered our precepts, arousing a
sanguine hope in a songless world.
The morning light hummed
as angels sang the Troubadour’s song
of man's redemptive story.
Haiku version
Anticipation,
to the Father's delight,
Emmanuel is born
The dawning light
of a new beginning
slates our thirst.
Arousing
a sanguine hope
for the coming year.
A salubrious optimism
laced with intent,
tempered.
12/13/2024- Long Distance Christmas
I miss family gatherings at Mamaw’s house. I miss Christmas morning with my kids waking up too early to spy on the Christmas tree. I miss family time at the Christmas Eve candlelight service. But that is okay when they are carrying on and building their own traditions with their family—as they are a long distance away, so I decorate with fond memories as I hang ornaments on the tree, waiting for sweet visitors to come.
brontebrown2 
Oh my. Beautiful poetry! Thank you for sharing.
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Love it! G
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Beautiful imagery.
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You had me at ‘hummingbird’s wing’,
but not in the best way,
because I then recalled, first thing,
that wild and wooly day
when a hummingbird did spy
me outside, and did what I feared.
Going beak-first for my eye,
he got tangled in my beard,
and not achieving the intended,
with his plans frankly a wreck,
went ahead and madly vented
his frustration on my neck,
so please allow that I might carp…
his beak was really , really sharp!
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lovely fresh poem
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Beautiful so full of vivid images and emotions! My twentysomething son still lives at home but, I know that one day I’ll be like you, decorating my tree and hoping for surprise visits from family! God Bless!
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