‘Structured Verse’ and Others Poems by Glenn Meisenheimer The Society January 3, 2013 Poetry 2 Comments Structured Verse Is structured verse so surely dead? Has it nothing left to say? Have the rhyme and rhythm petered out Somewhere along the way? Have feet marched off to glory’s end? Have the syllables this day Been recounted for the one last time And then been packed away? The masters are but relics now? Do their words hold nothing more? Have the songs and stories sung by them Become just ancient lore? No, I for one can not allow Such a day to ever dawn, For as surely as I still draw breath The rhythm will live on! Foster Child What if I held my heart here in my hand? Would you perhaps unlock your bolted door? Or would it merely crumble into sand And slip between my fingers to the floor? What if I showed my earnest love to you? What if it thawed the frost that rims your soul, Or decorated you like morning dew To sparkle in the sun and make you whole? What if I was the candle in your night That found you in the darkened woods alone, To guide you through the terrors with my light, And bring your wayward footsteps safely home? Destruction Like children we toy with destruction. We brandish our sword and our gun, Not heeding the cost of the effort Just as long as our object is won. Too willing to sacrifice others, Too willing to pay any toll, Not caring the price thus exacted Is not one penny less than our soul. Night Time Sky When I was just a little boy I loved the night time sky. On grassy hill I’d lay and stare And dream that I could fly. I would fly above the treetops And look down upon my house. It looked just like a little toy, My dog looked like a mouse! I’d fly betwixt the fleecy clouds The lights of town below Like iridescent strings of pearls On dark hills velvet flow. And up above in deepest black The stars did brightly shine. In Scorpius, Antares was A diamond clear and fine. I left behind the atmosphere And frolicked into space The Earth below a crystal orb With jewels upon it’s face. I looped around our yellow sun (The Milky Way’s a must!) And then I’d fly through Nebulae And clouds of stellar dust. Somewhere in Eridanus Orion’s waters flow, I found an empty darkened spot Devoid of starlight’s glow. I entered through the portal (For such it was it seems) And found another universe Beyond my wildest dreams! In there, I found a galaxy With silver spiral rings Made of thinnest gossamer Like ghostly ether wings. I settled for a yellow star With sunspots on it’s face And for a sapphire planet Spinning there in space. Trees and hills and seas of grass And then what did I see? A boy lay there, lost in dreams Staring back at me! The Poet: My name is Glenn Meisenheimer and I ONLY write structured verse. I am retired computer geek who raises foster children and lives in Oakland, California. These poems are among the entries for the Society of Classical Poets’ 2012 Poetry Competition. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 2 Responses Khalid Mukhtar January 3, 2013 Beautiful! The pentameter flows without resistance in Foster Child. Reply gmcookie January 4, 2013 Thanks Khalid, I was a foster child myself, so I remember the feeling of being “lost”. Unfortunately I never found that candle, myself, but survived to be that candle in the lives of my own foster children, Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.