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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier  10/25/2014 5:10:33 AM
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Barry A. Lanier   Best Poems From
  BARRY A. LANIER
 
 
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  105.     

bFencerows (Sentimental Favorite)

Only gaps in tangled fencerows,
Where pomegranates stood eighty years.
Gentle potholes laying monument,
Where heartpine posts stood firm.

Remorse..the bitter tears I cry!
Why have all my fencerows,
Gone, and passed my by?

Bumper crops of blackberries lived then fell,
Fat scuppernongs glistened, plump in my pail.
Where fragrant honeysuckles, mingled then scattered,
Now nights evening mists, find nowhere to gather.

Remorse..the bitter tears I cry!
Why have all my fencerows,
Gone, and passed me by?

Purple wisteria, carefully draping rusty fences,
Among the pause and flare, of early morning crickets.
Covey after covey, nature's Southern Bobwhite quail,
Their sanctuary and abode where every tree fell.

Remorse..the bitter tears I cry!
Why have all my fencerows,
Gone, and passed me by?

Southern geese land, leaving prints in the snow,
Leaving only traces of passage, where did they go?
Such are my fencerows, now they're all gone!
Like a time-worn woodcutter, time to go home.
 
Barry A. Lanier
   
 

   
   
 

  106.     

bFinding Osama

The armies have failed....to track him down

But to hunt a man....make him an animal

A Boone & Crockett trophy....Top Ten Game

And the hunter's will..............find him

A trophy..................mounted on a wall
 
Barry A. Lanier
   
 

   
   
 

  107.     

bFinding The Cross

Scaling splendid cliffs

Transversing valleys

Ascending grand mountains

Of celestial divine

Searching this world

Over and over

The Cross so eluding

Found in my dark room

One night
 
Barry A. Lanier
   
 

   
   
 

  108.     

bFirst Blood

Whenever my father left that morning,
Thinking he might say goodbye,
Or have a good day

From that point on in my day,
Seemingly nothing was right,
And ruined my day.

When my friend walked away,
Playing ball at recess,
Reminding me of father.

From that point on we fought,
I may have lost,
Marveled at the volume of blood.

Ruined shirt and new pants,
Cuts and bruises,
First blood.

My blood made me proud,
Running home to mom,
Upset and concerned.

Yet I told her I liked the pain,
I wouldn't let her change my shirt,
So complete and bloody

When my father came home late
I'd show him my blood and scars
Patiently awaiting him to pass out
 
Barry A. Lanier
   
 
 
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BEST POEMS:  (Click on a topic to list and read the poems)
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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier