To be continued, an addendum if it were
Behold the story of a girl and a boy
Not by means of happenstance that pairs of two eyes may take a moment to glance.
To take in glance, a time-lapsed stance, again this did not happen to chance.
Know this to be true, that in that moment, time stopped to make way for romance.
The story of a girl and a boy
A nerve you had reached
With your last strike
For thou I beseech
Offer thee this life
A tale hast not be writ
Out with peace and joy
Thou and thee forth with
The story of a girl and a boy
A Quick Jaunt, an excerpt of prose.
An echo through space
From mine to your place
Anxious you are
To these you will listen
I, too, afar
Alone with good intentions
Songs, chosen as these
By writ to receive
When it should please
In now and to it will be
So difficult it was to travel the road so rocky
But I pushed forward and made that journey
A road constructed to protect our feelings
A road so narrow, but without ceilings
During my travels, I accepted the ride
Sometimes, so much so from my emotions I did hide
It has been a little time since I have exited
To an onramp to a multi-lane highway without resistance
I didn’t realize until the other day
That for two people to be together
in each and every way
Can forsake so easily physical, sexual contact
With any other person to every extent
I had thought that that in itself was enough
Until recently, there are others that are as tough
Though sex in itself is most pleasing
To know that your partner is not receiving
From anyone else, in any fashion
To know this, is good enough reason
I came to a realization that that wasn’t enough
I don’t want any man to have even a touch
Even less than a touch, I don’t want them to see
What my baby has to offer me
Woman is the devil, this can be disputed
I offer proof that cannot be refuted
No other impact, can one leave on man
Than whence comes into a picture, a woman
Sure, she is capable to bringing peace to a war
Lest not forget that that war brought on by her
Oh certainly she is desired for that of a relationship
In marriage, a girlfriend, or even in friendship
All is calm, before the storm arrives
That storm is she who alters ours lives
Altered to a state of wonderful illusions
Have taken many a men to various institutions
Men have followed their hearts and more so their desire
To be led down a path, too damn close to the fire
A woman knows what it takes to bring down a man
Follow it through and then take them up again
We are nothing more than puppets to the puppeteer
As every woman holds in their bag of tricks things men hold dear
We are offered comfort, companionship, and desires fulfilled
Any caution we hold is thrown to the wind
Even in situations where we know the prudent choice of action
We tend to follow the lead of the woman in moments of passion
We tend to believe that we control our destiny
Therein lays our mistake as we don’t and that’s the reality
Women come in all shapes, sizes, and shades
All hold their certain appeal, on some plain
Many fall to less than desirable
And then there are those who appear as an angel
It really doesn’t matter how a woman appears
When it comes to bringing down man and this is sincere
Though the woman is the devil, I cannot resist
As I am a warm blooded male with no defenses
Really, I wouldn’t have it any other way
Without the woman, there really is nothing
Vanity
© August 17, 2002 by Paul M. Combs, Jr. All Rights Reserved
Once there was such a request
To write a poem of my ability at best
Of a coconut to which I derived
A man on an island a woman no longer survived
Once I was asked to write of a watermelon
A story conjured of actions almost to those of a felon
Where is it do these words have I drawn
At times I don’t even know, sometimes flow like a song
Well, for those whom haven’t the faith in what I have to write
I have something for you well written, chosen, for you tonight
Quickly, take a second and read what there is to follow
It is important, don’t blink, it is far less than mellow
I am the best that there has ever been before me
Just wait and see and look for more of my poetry
I can write on the spot without even a moments notice
I can write all night long, and allow the words do thy justice
But more important than all that has been written
I do this for you, these words I offer, to whom they are given
Measurement
© August 7, 2002 by Paul M. Combs, Jr. All Rights Reserved
The barometer by which we are measured
The sum of all parts that have been gathered
May only be known as the Day of Judgment
Through this journey of life and by how we have lived
To pray that we have done more good than had sinned
Not that there need be a balance for atonement
For it is not in the sum of those actions
It is in the acceptance of Jesus in whole and not a fraction
And of course, to whom, we must repent
So in this life and in this time on Earth
From the moment we are born to our rebirth
One can only pray to be ready for the Day of Judgment
Second Place
© July 9, 2002 by Paul M. Combs, Jr. All Rights Reserved
It wasn’t that long before I last wrote
A winning poem for you to vote
To be pretentious and claim that this verse
To be best of and even that of first
That title be held by an earlier submission
This only a little prose for intermission
Expect there to be more on the way
As I have been writing day after day
None other prose is as these
Do forgive me, I beg you please
Just having fun with nothing else to do
I have more substantial lines to offer you
Have a great day and thank you for reading
Until next time and another evening
If there be a time to write such a prose
It would be now, I do suppose
An award winning piece for all to read
This only a sample, only a seed
I offer many wonderful works to display
Certainly, not now, not today
Perhaps if there is such an interest
Then such an offering, I couldn’t resist
I am an unknown ready to be discovered
So I offer this piece from which I uncovered
From the depths of my mind and to the hand
Flowed these words upon my command