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Title: Rhyme and Reason; a Compilation of Verses, Rhymes and Senses
Author: Dom
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Rhyme and Reason; a Compilation of Verses, Rhymes and Senses" ***

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Copyright (C) 2002 by L.M. Wong
Dommy dominaeprimus@yahoo.com

Rhyme and Reason- a compilation of verses , rhymes and
by Dom


Pray thee let none shall bar
it's not the questions, where or when
God grant I shan't be far
In place of person, spirit then


The nectar is sweet
if the heart so dares
never for the meek
where riskiness stares
Just risking for a sign

It won't stay when you stay
Goes when you're own your toes
The rewards are from the chase
Reach for it but never in haste
Nothing does like it does

By Faith we hope and pray
Events roll out and lay
Grasp for handles in a maze
Readiness with a brace
I'll take it in if I may

The nectar is sweet
if the heart so dares
those willing to seek
where riskiness bares
Just risking for a sign


Gilded sun rays clear the haze
Lighted lights go out apace
Another rise over the mount
Live creatures roused from their fount

Beings they gather and disperse
Shrieking shouts and small whispers
Wings above while eyes trained below
all stir for what might follow

Those ordained all fall in line
some lie still in thoughts opined
chosen ones to fruition live
while others Fates weigh and sieve

Courtesy in deeds driven
Ev'ry gesture plays a part
Fair regard gladly given
Fondness well planted in heart

Ye fair rovers in life
torches glow and fires swell
upon the reach of warm hive
We wish thee "all be well"

For those true let none deceive
Be relieved by what's believed
Within sadness joy's reprieve
Joy increased from joy received


The present year retires
to rest with history
Another course expires
to lodge in memory

A new course woven and spun
while we adorn its space
Concerns commence and are done
come what may rush or haste

A hope and toast to what's new
fond farewell to what's past
Let our joys never be few
and may fond regard last


The heart shan't huddle in heavy pinin'
For as long as there's a silver linin'
From murky shadows it's hope we're minin'
Through search and tumble it's bliss we're findin'


What is this fleeting moment?
An hourglass filled with cascading sand
Passes us in joy or lament
While we compelled or by own choosing attend


A few things to nourish us
in this request in verse
Give us a crumb from that loaf
A humble comfort blanket
Grant us a splinter of frost above
Findings spawn from tip of iceberg
Save some glow off the glimmer
Hope preserved and mirrored

Those who give shan't be in want
Those who receive in penury shan't
If they wisely give
and they wisely spend
There'll be none to grieve
But much to append


Faded bronze picture pretty
where cracks add curiosity
mounting age make things vintage
authentic guarantee's pledge
yesterday's streets I tarry
Green moss carpets alley


I thank thee for thy patronage
rhyme like wine improves with age
though I shan't be a hermit sage
I'm glad thou had found this page


There's nothing here at stake
But the reasons we state
come play for verses' sake
lines of prosaic prose break


The pall of the darkest hour
Is lifted by Faith's power
Let burn your resolve's ardour
There's relief in Hope's harbour!


one over two I am not
two of three they said not
three times four she had not
four from five he knew not
five and six a naught not
six sevens they saw not
seven eights it was not
eight nines they brought not
nine a ten it is not
Good heavens is what I've got!

World from my windowpane

The world is well and sane
From my eyeview's windowpane
While Good charged and shook its mane
Thoughts drift on a saunterly train

It's not too late

Lady Fortune nudges coyly
Pandora strikes stealthily
Hope stays in purposeful wait
All that's Good, it's not too late

The Archer

The Archer pulls his bowstring
Yonder what lies in hiding
One shot hits its target true
Hinders doubts which worries spew

Life and Rhetoric I

Though oft cautioned we pass unwarily
An earthly life's junctures and maze
Fitting pieces circumstantially
In wakeful awareness and daze

Life and Rhetoric II

Circumstance is fleeting
We run with the current and do what we must
In retrospect fitting
Ignorant of present and wise of the past

Here's a Crowd

Chaos plays Jack-in-a-Box
Father Time oils his clocks
Mother Nature preens her hair
Courage makes his own chair
Fate deals her card deck
Past is ever dwelling back
Present plays with Here and Now
Future poses with When and How
Peace reclines in sweet repose
Purity, not a spot on her clothes
Wish speculates wistfully
Reality alters mercurially
Sleep is strictly not to be disturbed
Wakefulness stirs on its own turf

Those which have been named
Our tempers they have tamed
Spans of ages they have reigned
Outlasting Pride and things vain


From its perch molten orb uncovers day
As diurnal beings emerge to seek hay
From its perch Certainty clears murky
As it hands Conscience the masterkey

Diggging the heels

We are drunk by sweet claret
Our Fates dealt by tarot
By causes the brows had furrowed
For causes reserves had burrowed
Take us to where redemption's moored
We head forth firm where none detoured

Glutton's Delight

Surprise quirks spur a thirst
that which quenches hungers
a second follows first
that which restores changes

Allow Me

Allow me your sweet musings
Those worry and hurry overlooked
Fairer than sweet nothings
Solace and Patience shan't be duped


Curiosity taps my hesitation
My gaze blinks warily
What's the price of revelation?
Mere lunge and peep only?

Same Suspect

The hand that won the crown
The same hand wipes the brow
Look ye all up and down
The same one anyhow

Lines of Joy

Our bliss filled wings flutter
The heart traipses with rapture
Pure joy has its mirrors
Smiling delight it sires

Be the Spark

Let not might expire
At the topmost spire
Nor fine sinews tire
Bogged in messy mire
Come strike and feed first spark
Hues to all pale and stark


Within a bewildered mire
Resolve sires inner fire
Speedy streaks aimless confusion wreaks
Like brittle burnt twigs confusion creaks
An inner spark, emerges, divulges
Upon mortal frailty, comforts, touches
Lament not in sorrow
Embrace the fair morrow

Deeds past lodge in memory's place
My time now in haste or good pace
The crook of the trick my conscience prick
Truth I seek for it I shan't be meek
A lively spark, emerges, divulges
Upon mortal frailty , comforts, touches
Lament not with sorrow
Embrace the fair morrow

Scaling The Ladder

Mighty obligation curtailed voice
Left us splinters we took as choice
I've been bumped from nook to cranny
Had some, somedays crumbs of plenty
Yet learned and notched miles and hours
On wet grass to brazen towers
It's sweat, dread, I'm glad to have left
Despite and in spite of, unsapped
On full alert to hit the heights
Bide in stride and take in the sights

The seer said to me

Fear me not I am not Harm
Unclench fists and ready arm
I see woven threads, wordly realms
The beaten track and what it seems
Crossroads present ripples the current
Absent indulgence tickles serpent

Bridge the chasmic ridge

Defy Destiny you live in grief
Welcome what's to be then judge and sieve
Keep the torch blazing in its glow
Leave solace basking in the know
My sanctum now sows the seed
The seer's form to edge recede

SURSUM CORDA-Lift up your hearts

Come my dears the sun yellow
Beckons thee out of sorrowful wallow
The pit of tears runs too shallow
For lively spirits mellow and callow
Let's be gone with many a-bellow
We cross the hollow elbow to elbow


Go and Run ,skulk and hide
The hazy signs of next delight
ever mercurial as fickle tide
you say it's done then you might

I shall run and stay beside
No cell here is watertight
Evolution's a bumpy ride
It's not done, might just might


Glasses of wine crowns a good dine
Sips of rhyme to while the time
I say mine, you say your line
Brightens the clime, isn't it fine?

Taken from a drunk's pocket:

If you said gin and tonic
I think you're prophetic
But if you called for beer
Bear the wine drinkers' sneer
Got caught in my veins some scotch
Surprised my mind's not scorched
If I hear of old Bloody Mary
Let me check out cash and carry
Now don't you say rum and tequila
My marushka let's pour some vodka
I'm really not that taciturn
Just the burden of some bourbon


From distance and depths they roll
nearer like a constant stroll
their formation fluidly rustling
nearing leaves slovenly shaking
salt in my nose, curled up my toes
I can see the troopers moving hither

Horizon of scattered specks
unheeding fluid troopers' tracks
wavy phalanx forward advance
prance a primordial nature's dance
glare in my eyes, from morn sunrise
my attention attends along the strand


Drowned by the hand of mortality
a soul shines where Angels ply
with Goodness pure and Divine mercy
(s)he now dwells where Angels fly

Face in the Crowd

When it all rolls over
and our hearts sobered
I'll be a face in the crowd

When the hurly-burly bustle
on its own weight tumble
I'll stay a face in the crowd

When I take things slower
and I'm less of a mover
I'll be a face in the crowd

When I'm less able
to bet on the table
I'll stay a face in the crowd

When voices speak softer
less to excite over
I'll be a face in the crowd

Let's pack it all in
live off it from within
Just like a face in the crowd

All in All

All our given sunrises
All our sunsets ordained
All our best desires
All our hearts proclaimed
All untruth never maul
All truest all in all


An air of suspense sweeps over me
A wonder only seen in dreams
A great rush of heavenly fidelity
and my spirit dances among moonbeams

High over valleys
my joy rallies
I wish and long to dally
alas dreams are like snow
fade when it's time to go

But this joy I'll evermore recall
when among the clouds I stand tall
as my heart leaps, among hilly peaks
I'll cherish deep and recall the trip

An air of suspense sweeps over me
A wonder only seen in dreams
A great rush of heavenly fidelity
and my spirit dances among moonbeams

Consolation for a Nightingale

For though it seems the horizon wide
was swallowed by the ink of night
Hope still resides by your side
Strength to resume sparks alight

Happiness when it Comes

Happiness isn't an all time high
But when it comes it does not lie
as much as you can without frowning
and letting go without drowning
Not the mystery tucked in a box
or a steeple chase marked by clocks
Contentment and an unruffled heart
A gift from Life, an acquired art!

Poet at Play

sparks and thoughts they do combine
thy brief verses grant it clime
the poetic deed shall be incomplete
should verse denied of rhyme replete
at rest in this forest I do beseech
a pause then to Parnassus reach !

symmetry of rhyme addiction
weaves and spins bear fruition
past concepts and articulations
through the truth and truisms
thus the quest of poetic frenzy
by far loftier than mere fancy


Footsteps, they clatter
as I looked to the mirror
is it for the better?
I'm a habitual worrier

Your eyes reached for me
but I was ever unsure
did I transgress decency
of this new culture?

It was not what it seemed
this gaze of avid urgency
A glass up to its brim
I carried on nonchalantly

The waiter a while lingered
thought he a catastrophe
a full glass to him mattered
another spill casualty?

I delicately sipped
the outskirts of the rim
thus in one sip I nipped
the bungle at the brim

A WORD ON WORDS-revised 2002

Words to proselitize
Words to hail
Words to define
Words to douse silence
Words to rouse
Speech is a double edged gift
In stroke , ails and heals.

Words to state plainly
Words to choke gasps of worries
Words to accompany deeds
Words to line void of ignorance
Words to fill gaps of craving
Language is a double edged gift
In a swoop , blights and blesses.


A simple act of smiling carries abundant nuances. Its appearance
unfolds subtleties in spells so brief that attention has to acquire
suppleness and clairvoyance in order to trace its intention.
An emotional armour, an ignorant smirk, a habitual display, a crack of
dismay. It serves as an olive branch, a link of mutuality, a spirit
booster, a disarming tool. It wriggles so mildly into the domain that
it catches us off-guard in an awkward pose in the midst of some
complication, a teaser's toy, a perplexing foil, a facial perk up. It
has beguiled hearts for generations, a warm gesture of agreement ,
nonchalant bravado, unperturbed defiance, a universal affirmation of
pleasure. 8>)


Inspiration alternates between fasting and feasting. Let it cascade
from funnels of thoughts. Improvise and let fancies weave as much and
as often as they please. There is unity despite this mish-mesh .
Inspiration gushes more than our fill can contain. It flows till each
kernel is milked of its essence, then recedes to miserly trickling.

It hibernates as themes ossify, mummified in rumination's chrysalis.
Charges to the fore of consciousness and floats to the spout of the
fount when ripeness blooms. 8>)


I had long anticipated this parting. I had wept in anticipation of
this. Intense pain coiled around refusal and vexation, caused by anger
that it should pass so soon. To heave our chests with sobs, wail
ourselves hoarse, sap breath of air are futile. Part we must.

I cannot offer tears now. I had wept in anticipation of this. Senses
stay with me as I go about matter-of-factly. But sorrow is real.
Whoever who has emotions and compassion will surely feel the tight knot
on heartstrings in times of grief. Part we must.

Mourning lasts not forever. Speak not of regret. Seek joys shared.
Extricate the most comely or comical picture of the departed from
recesses of recall or from the picture archive.

Caress those treasured tokens. Care for them well. Mortality had
usurped and carried them across the walls while those living, are
moored here still. 8>)


We wince, grimace, we deny, we blush, we withdraw, we stumble, grapple
for a hold then surge wildly with our hurt, to our sanctuary, for
security, for support, for sympathy which we so badly lack.
Our egos soothed, our pride mended, our resolve restored, our courage
renewed. We make our way out of the zone of our sanctuary to the swirl
of life, kingdom of actuality, the playfield of fortune, the polarity
of cause and effect. We stand our ground, stake our claim, carve our
indentations upon eternity. 8>)


Pungence of the coast enter the nostrils before sight glimpses the
first outlines of the docks. As we gaze around the coastal settlement ,
all manner of architecture, decorations, signage and paraphernalia
suggest an ode to the sea and a boatman's lot.

The utilitarian magnetism of a rugged painted scene experienced live.
Water's surface beside ravaged outskirts of the docks. Rusty submerged
pillars and barnacles,  so common a sight, they go unnoticed.

Foam formations and breaking foam. Reflections of the surface on a good
sunny day like fluid sequins , they gleam. Vessels off to the wide open
and vessels approaching.   The mutable tide and current. Bobbing buoys
and crafts.

An assemblage of scattered generators, expelled fumes, sputtering
engines with cadence of speech merge to form a union of din. Picture
perfect for a tourist. It's an average day in the lives of those whose
fortunes depend on the day's catch and nature's dictates.

Tobacco smoke, grunts, gruff ramblings, murmurs, occasional raised
volume, wellingtons, raincoats, overcoats and windbreakers. Footsteps
upon tarred passages. Shadows of beings cast on cobblestone walkways.
The stooped, hunched, sprightly and nimble.

It's a rare sight for a pristine boat to be moored at the docks or a
seafarer in uncreased gear, whose presence is devoid of telltale salty
scent. Eyes accustomed to the regular scene spies a newcomer with ease.


A trace of superstition still hangs upon them. The past is as tangible
as actuality. They live it, they breathe within dominions of their time
and those once trod by their forefathers. The legacy is both strong and
benevolent. Hence , so is the affinity between generations long parted
and the living present.
The departed have never truly departed from the consciousness of those
still living, though not every name is known but their presence is
persistent. The people here, they're a mite superstitious. Youthful
formative years were liberally imbued with rhymes and odes of folklore
where there is no sharp divide of legend from history. The structured
education of logic, truth and reasoning heap upon indentations first
forged by lore, diligently learned during childhood.
A clear innocence flavour their pursuits. A sense of unobtrusive
dignity pervade pursuits spanning from exalted undertakings to prosaic
chores. If there is a place where a wanderer would gaze back with
longing in heart and a vow to return, it would be this.

NO. 11

a trail of cold wetness
a passing rain's legacy
a weekend's night
at the square's hub

pungence of pumping exhaust
hazy light beams streak
their path through the murky blur

the public mingle at street fringes
as streaks of lights
mark their motorised presence

has anyone found their night's beacon ?
or is it only tonight's attraction
destined to be next morning's faded memory ?

screeches and skids
upon asphalt surface
burning rubber doused by moist surface

thrills in a rush
bets on the line for momentary glory
without flawless display
a reckless fool he becomes

how we've lived and where we're heading vanishes
when adrenaline shoots from a quick draw
all philosophical speculation abruptly cease

has anyone found their life's beacon ?
or is it only tonight's attraction
destined to crack up and fade at first light ?


Peddlers and buyers parley. Each trying to inch to a compromise. When
the deal is struck it is a mutual reward of patience for both. Both
profit at an agreed cost. Hear peddlers hail and rave indiscreetly
about their wares to passers-by with the purpose of making buyers out
of browsers.

The market place is where material desire pursues realistic needs and
perpetuates the jousting between persuasive wit and adamant refusal.
Sweet recommendations slide up to those who pass by without a list and
fill their minds with the lure of the next bargain.

Barrage upon barrage of humanity locked in bargaining, scurrying to and
from , browsing without purpose, seeking with marked intentions. The
market place is where friends with acquaintances , kinfolk with
strangers tread the common way. Fresh links hooked. Old ties renewed.
It is up to the individual to disclose or evade the throng of queries.

Smoothen frowns caused by fretting . Weary minds, take a hike along the
market place. There's variety to be had within the stream of humanity
there. It teases interest and flicks a spark on the fuse of humour.
With senses and caution, join the jostling. Emerge none the poorer. So
much the richer.


A mob masses at a side street. Something which they hear intrigue them
so. It rises above their routine bustling hassle.
A booming invitation from a corner street salesman who hones his pitch
to perfection. He nets commuters with his velvet lure of promise... for
a fee. Wielding his selling lines like a coveted bauble while he tugs
with his words. Those touched by his pitch tow along like an entourage
of mice, latching on to the Pied Piper. The horde crane their necks for
a ring side view , stretch limbs to advance nearer and strain sight for
a close up. He stands high , above all heads , on a concrete pulpit and
proceeds to wean all to his prescription. He proclaims "For a fee, the
majority will attain a share of a rare minority".


A promenade musician with repertoire of tunes to whisk the rhythm of
your gait away. Fixes you to a standstill and makes the heart yearn for
sweetness which she coaxes from the strings. She plays for her keep.
Touched generosity bestow appreciation into a ready hat.
The last note done , she raises her head to acknowledge the spontaneous
cheers. Gazes back to the tool of her trade, readies herself and plucks
the strings again to sweep the next passer-by into the honeyed core of


We are charioteers with vigorous steeds, eager to spring off to pace
the breeze and pit against the wind. But what is vigour without defined
intent ? A fatuous waste of good strength. Fuse desire, vigour and
achievement into a singular fruition. When splintered, there is inner
vortex which spirals and heckles mercilessly, relentlessly. Restless
ambition is unsettled. It leaps in step with rousing craving. Wanting,
coveting, desiring, they are emotions coaxed into being by experience,
which meddle with our senses. Tame their potency, induce direction and
order. To do so , the heart's pounding is reined and driven by reason.


A place to grow old in.
Verdant slopes teem with pastoral greenery. Waves splinter on craggy
rocks and cliffs. They,  the vanguards of the coast. Showered and mired
with the sea's deep blue depth. Effervescent streaks of foam marks each
agitation. Thoroughfares , serenaded by minstrels. Be enchanted by
wayfarer's tales, drawn to the romance of fables and ruminate on the
bitter-sweet myths. Trace stony mounds with the soles as the feet step
on cobble stone streets. Homely public houses, freshly cooked square
meals at caf‚s and bonhomie, as common as courtesy. Live our days in
contentment. Good banter abound and rousing humour gallops. It is at
once both country and city. Neither be in want of conveniences nor be
compelled to forego the space of privacy.
A place to grow old in.


Divine Apollo, won't you roll us another day ? Slide the shadows and
give us light. Then we'll know that yesterday was not our last. We live
another day to tread and carve this earth.
Orpheus, won't you play us another tune ? Spur those weary ones. Lull
anguished souls. Calm eddies of worried minds. Soothe and entertain
those left.
Poseidon, bring your chariot over your kingdom of the sea, with your
sacred trident, bless the seas with plenty. Let the winds be kind to
sailors. Let the catch be rich. Tame the ocean's ferocity when it
Aphrodite, be benevolent to those who seek love. Kindle passion yet
temper its infectious intensity lest the glow becomes a torrid pyre.
Eros plays tricks with his arrows and bow. Allow us the power to
discern with liberty of choice and reason as company.
Hermes, we pray that you bring glad tidings to us mortals. We long to
hear you proclaim , o messenger of the Gods , that needless bloodshed
shall be no more. That goodness rules. Hope subdues chaos released by
Pandora. All injustice undone. Suffering's grief and tears shed
cleansed from memory.
Athene, guide us from machinations of Evil. Grant us the gift of
Courage and Perseverance. The same which you had given Odysseus for we
too endure our own odysseys. Demons and villains, they alter their
guises well and cunningly.
Hades, keep your train beneath the world. Your faithful Cerberus, bark
and bite not at mortal heels before our time. Our course governed by
Heaven's trade with the Reapers at your command. O Fates, lead us
gently and guide us well into the Hereafter.
Supreme Zeus, the one of the feared thunderbolt. Mightiest of
Olympians, final arbiter. With a fraction of your wisdom, we shall have
sight of sense. With that sense, breathe wisdom in our actions and
curtail weaknesses. Your blessing and mercy be upon us all still.

Drunk on Rhyme

What's to come, to be done
This while's all future and now
Impulse leaves with gracious bow
Straying would've harmed

The ebbing glow of twilight
Brings the hints of hopes bright
Dispense of loud proclamations
There's ample from quiet assurances
Heartening presence in spirit
Which no one else but us know it

We enjoy the delights within our grasp
Tempted by mirages out of reach
Forsake comforts for sweat and gasps
to return with trophies and preach

What's said in confidence
Expects silence in return
To stay true to intention
Is the best recompense


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