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  • You are here: Blogs Directory / Poetry / Melford's Poetry Welcome Guest
    Melford's Poetry
          Well, I've decided to put my poetry here as well. It is for a very broad audience, so hopefully you will understand. The book of Job is often quite dark and Solomon's Song of Songs is at times quite racey for those who understand what is being said. Hopefully, I will not exceed the Bible in either context, but I am willing to accept that some of my work may be taken down as inappropriate for this forum. For those of you who wish to have non-Christians read my stuff and maybe pique their curiousity, just be sure to tell them that this is a Christian Community, and they shouldn't consider your gesture to be misleading.

    Fri, Sep 23rd - 2:26AM

    Misread (lines in the sand)

    Like soft grains of sand that tickle my soles,
    Scratching my backsides, and stuck 'tween my toes,
    Brown Eyes, they haunt me, like two burning coals,
    Their passion within a beauty that glows;
    Scared as a rabbit, I run for my hole,
    To hide from this fox, so deep down below;
    I shake like a leaf; I freeze like a foal,
    Seeking a haven, with no-where to go;
    She burrows me out; surrender I must;
    Not bravely, I fear, though the fear is unjust;
    I misread the passion; I murdered the trust;
    'Twas friendship, it seems, seen blindly through lust;
    Foolish, I gather, more heart-wounds to lick,
    And soft grains of sand, that scratch me and stick.


    Copyright © 1981 Lyle Melford Miller, Jr.

    Comment (0)

    Fri, Sep 23rd - 2:23AM

    In the Stars

    The stars, My Child, you fail to understand,
    Are ours, to hold, just reach out your hand,
    And leave fools behind to squabble in the sand;
    Leave behind this world of fear;
    The ether beyond, with freedom so dear,
    Waits before us, the ones who are bold,
    To sail the high ways, on sunbeams of gold;
    No, the old ways, they just cannot last,
    For those who scream that the change is too fast;
    To them, this young dream dear, aye, it must show,
    That soon, very soon, we will heavenward go;
    The stars, My Child, beckon from the blue,
    So reach for them love, for when we are through,
    We'll be there with them, together, me and you.


    Copyright © 1981 Lyle Melford Miller, Jr.

    Comment (0)

    Fri, Sep 23rd - 2:20AM

    A Lover's World

    Upon laughter singing feet
    My heart skips
    A beat
    Because your loveliness
    Holds time still
    For one moment
    Half masked
    Half revealed
    By the evening light
    It causes insanity
    I'm crazy you know
    With desire for so much I want you
    To be beautiful
    For me.


    Copyright © 1981 Lyle Melford Miller, Jr.

    Comment (0)

    Fri, Sep 23rd - 2:17AM

    Blonde Gold

    Sol-bright, starlight, dances in her eyes,
    Moonbeams and stardust, descended from the skies;
    Yon Viking Maiden, Ho, she doth play a fine jest,
    For with nary an effort, Ah, my heart she hath wrest;
    Her honeydew hair, tries the strength of my mettle,
    Yet the warmth of her voice, helps my spirit to settle;

    Be it ever so cruel, but dear fate has decreed:
    She could never be mine; Nay her way must be freed.

    So spread your wings, Fair Valkyrie, before the Ides of Spring,
    And my heart will go with you, for my minstrel voice will sing,
    Yea, far beyond Valhalla, there'll be words whose booming ring,
        With Laughter,
            There Battles,
                For Freedom.


    Copyright © 1981 Lyle Melford Miller, Jr.

    Comment (0)

    Fri, Sep 23rd - 2:14AM


    She's my bird,
    Long, black and beautiful,
    Twin engines laid back,
    And her cockpit up front.

    She's my J.E.T.
    Jet, jet black, living jet,
    Waiting and ready.

    Take off on a high ride.

    And my love,
    Throwing the throttle in,
    Carries me away,
    Shrieking through the heavens,
    In ecstasy,
    To Tomorrow.


    Copyright © 1980 Lyle Melford Miller, Jr.

    Comment (0)

    Fri, Sep 16th - 12:47PM

    This is NOT Poetry

    I call it 'Wordsmithing'.
    That attempt to evoke a response,
    To convey a feeling,
    To express myself.

    Often in the seach for the 'right' word,
    I check its sound.
    It might be the shade of meaning that matters most,
    It might be that flash of feeling that naturally comes.

    I tickle the senses, with aural stimulation.
    And much more, the smell, the touch, the sense of movement and vibration.
    Can you feel the sting of sweat in your eye as you labor strenuously?
    Do you feel the ache in your arms and legs of fatigue?

    Breath, and what do you feel?
    Through your nose, what do you smell?
    Through your mouth, what do you taste?
    Can you hear your breathing?

    It is an introspective journey every time --
    Who am I truly?
    What do I feel?
    Can you relate?


    Copyright ©2005 Lyle Melford Miller

    Comment (3)

    Fri, Sep 9th - 1:01PM

    Anthem of the Death Singers

    I can taste their fear,
    And smell the anticipation of battle.
    My troops rustle and rumble behind me.
    The enemy before trembles and quakes
    My Lady Death will soon gather new sojourners into her cold embrace.

    The song has begun
    Played many times before, it is still new
    New voices, from those wide eyed in the wonder of it
    Mix with the old harmonies of the Veterans
    Grimly remembering the strains of the songs sung past.

    Glorious and Gory the heat of conflagration
    Sweeps like wildfire across the heavens
    Patterns of control in the midst of carnage unleashed
    Push those who oppose us
    Like flotsam on the waves.

    Another stanza is written: in blood and sweat and tears
    Reaching a new frenzy, the crescendo of voices rises
    Over the thrumming throb of the machines of war
    Lacking perfection, the song is sung better, and will be better yet
    Still again, seeking graven restfulness at last.


    Copyright ©2005 Lyle Melford Miller

    Comment (3)

    Wed, Sep 7th - 10:41PM

    Death Courier

     Starspark on glittersteel, 
     She slips silently through the midnight ether 
     Deaths handmaiden, 
     A bellyful of Ares brood 
     The children of chaos awaiting their call. 

     The klaxon sounds like trumpets of old 
     And the scion springs forth in a frenzy of destruction. 
     Mayhem rules for a time 
     And cries are heard, screaming to know why, 
     Why must we suffer, why must we die? 

     Their mindless appetite sated, they return 
     To the cold, unfeeling womb that spawned them 
     Preparing to seek another foe. 
     Mayhaps one worth their mettle 
     A worthy knight, a gunslinger bold. 

     Only she knows the mission, the grand design 
     That propels them onward to new worlds in decline. 
     The mission is simple and yet so old 
     That some must have known it, but lost what was told 
     So yet what her mission is, she decides to withhold. 

    Copyright © 2005 Lyle Melford Miller

    Comment (5)

    Tue, Sep 6th - 9:19PM


     For weeks we were bored, then artillery roared, 
     And the battle enlarged, 
     At Verdun. 

     We went over the top, until death made us drop, 
     Though fearful, we charged, 
     At Verdun. 

     Machine guns, death spat, forcing men to lie flat, 
     In the gory mud there, 
     At Verdun. 

     We charged, retreated, discouraged, defeated, 
     And waited in despair, 
     At Verdun. 

     Midst the dead, the dying, the shell-shocked, the crying, 
     Wounds never will mend, 
     At Verdun. 

     When gas finally came, war's price stayed the same, 
     From begining to end, 
     At Verdun. 

    Copyright © 1980 Lyle Melford Miller

    Comment (4)

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    About Me

    Name: Mel Miller
    ChristiansUnite ID: melford
    Member Since: 2005-09-06
    Location: Aurora, Colorado, United States
    Denomination: Christian
    About Me: I've been a christian for some time, but squandered my time and talents 'in a foreign land' I have been in the military (active and reserves) for just a couple of years shy of 30. I have two lovely daughters, and life seems to often be strange to me... more

    Sept. 2005
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