Annette Dubovsky, Freda Freeman, Ben Krengel, Bernard Levinson, Bev Moss-Reilly, Ben Wilensky
If I forget thee, O Jerusalem…
Garden of Gethsemane
Holy Wailing Wall
Temple site of Solomon
Holding in their thrall
DID Mary live in Bethany?
Mohammed’s steed rose Where?
Where ARE the Walls of Jericho?
DID Joshua conquer THERE?
These we yet may query
Tho’ sites beyond compare
But what we KNOW and CHERISH
Jerusalem IS THERE!
Rosemary and lavender
Olive-tree and pine
Golden light, Eternal might
Jerusalem is MINE!
Haifa’s Baha’i Temple
Panoramic View
Beauty of Mount Carmel
Sea of deepest blue
Tel Aviv – metropolis –
Breathless, glittering, brash
Ancient Port, sea-resort
Living’s glitz and dash
But Jerusalem-the-Golden
Its magic pink-hued hills
Its highways and its byways
Its Holy aura thrills
The New submerging Timeless Old?
It glitters not – yet purest Gold
The gold of Age
The gold of Light
The gold of Faith
The gold of Might
I touch the whorls of ancient vine
Proud ancestor of sweetest wine
On champagne air I, hungry, dine
Jerusalem is Mine!
Annette Dubovsky
Late harvest memories
Late harvest memories
time-drenched and ripe.
An autumnal blaze
alive in the grape’s core.
The frozen shadows
of winter
are still hidden
beneath
the ageing fruit.
Every poem
seeped in love
is a last poem…
Bernard Levinson
Yom Kippur
Where are you going to break the fast?
What are you wearing?
Who have you asked?
Familiar questions to the ears
Of conversations throughout the years
Lest we forget we go to pray
To cleanse our souls from evil’s way
To look inside and introspect
Yet how many really take time to reflect
Wondering what the fashion dictates
The Prado Bag, ongoing debates
Year in year out it’s all repeated
Is the object thus not defeated!
Be at one
Search deep withinAsk forgiveness for each sin
Be good to your fellow man
See beyond the 4 wheel van
Live each day as a true mensch
Then Yom Kippur is less intense.
On Kol Nidrei the book is sealed
We repent and ask to be healed
From ways that we have erred and scarred
Yet it’s all been printed on the big score card
We beat our chests and say Al Chait
Yet speak of news
We just can’t wait
The affair the divorce
Whose gone machullah
Left the country
Was it Cohen or Miller!
Make it different just for once
Cleanse your soul and pray for peace
That mitzvoth be on the increase
It doesn’t matter who looks fat
Whose botox didn’t take
Just remember why you’re here
For Yom Kippur’s sake.
Bev Moss-Reilly
The Burgers in Vegas
Were thick and juicy in the 60s
The fries were hot and crisp
The shakes stood tall and sweet
Everything was better, different
From places like Fort Worth
Especially the change lady at Slots-R-Fun
She was forty, I was twenty
In Texas we’d have met stares
From strangers, family, friends
But things were better, different
In Vegas I kept saying, hoping
One night I took her home
And the look on her daughter’s face
Told us both that things
Were not so different in Vegas
John Yarbrough
The Wise
On the hills
above the sea,
wild mauve geraniums
bending in the breeze
like the elderly,
with flexibility,
above the stiffened branches
of youth and immaturity
Freda Freeman
Boy Flying
boy of five
grinning in the sun
leaps into the air and rises like a hawk
gliding past the cities
floating through the trees
awestruck and dazzled
higher make it higher
faster make it faster
squeeling with delight
hands clapping
wings flapping
satisfied with flight
descending
in a slow and stately
ruffle of feathers
in sleep billions are falling
millions are tumbling out of bed
once I used to fly
a distant voice cries out to me
you there with scorched receding hair
keep my hawk alive!
Ben Wilensky
Heidelberg Road
The highway traffic
suddenly stops
A long queue ahead
the driver sits & stares
The sky is blue
On his side tall tress
The euclypti erect
In different shades
Numerous narrow tips
are powder puffs.
Nearby the turn
A stately willow tree
In a shallow ravine
No hurry now
No flights to catch
As white clouds
enlarging accrue fluff.
Traffic trickling
No chase or haste
The driver waits
listening to inner debate
As poetic words
relate taking shape.
The police cordon
moves slowly away
the traffic streams
and rushes on
The driver’s late
He turns the key
Switches on the wipers
It starts to rain
What to say
about long delay?
Back at work
He’ll explain.
Ben Krengel[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]
