The stories of the rainbow have been told
In myth and magic since the dawn of time
Some stories we have heard are very old
But old or new, such stories are sublime
Sublimity is rainbows in a word
The words of rainbows form a story arc
The colors of the rainbow can be heard
As water droplets leave their promised mark
A bridge, a bow, a promise, just a few
Of rainbow stories heard or felt or seen
A sunlit world of water, clear and blue
A rainbow tree with leaves of rainbow green
Unique, the rainbow story has no end
Forever’s how the rainbow has been penned.
With his head full of brains, the Scarecrow decided to compose sonnets for and about the two best friends: Dorothy Gale and Princess Ozma of Oz.
He stood up as straight as he could and spoke to the assembled Court of Ozma, Princess and Queen of Oz. In his hand was a scroll he unrolled to read from.
“My dear friends, here are four sonnets celebrating the history of the best friends Oz has ever known:
Dorothy and Ozma Meet
When Dorothy met Ozma, both felt love
The love one feels when friends are ever true
True friends can be like rainbows up above
In Emerald City love can be true-blue
The two that met as friends became much more
The two we know and feel their friendship true
Like diamonds sparkle, love begets rapport
The trust these two embraced was fresh and new
It’s always new each time we come to trust
To trust the truth of friendship, love’s embrace
It’s like some kind of magic fairy dust
At times it brings a smile to your face
They smiled with joy at magic love they found
Together Oz would be their common ground.
Ozma and Dorothy Rule
When Ozma ruled in Oz and Dorothy came
She came to see her friend, the goodly queen
The princess ruled, yes Ozma was her name
Their friendship was the best you’ve ever seen
So good that Ozma gave her friend the throne
When she had things to do in fairyland
She went to see Queen Lurline who was known
As one in Oz who was both good and grand
And so by trust they ruled in Oz as one
If “ruled” is what you call togetherness
They knew their work in Oz was never done
Together “no” was no and “yes” was yes
Their friendship grew through ruling all with care
And friendship’s love was present everywhere.
Dorothy and Ozma Part
When Dorothy and Ozma had to part
They hoped their love forever strong would dwell
When love is found in any loving heart
The strength of love is something we should tell
We tell it like a story, strong and dear
(Two dear ones I’ve composed these poems for)
Their story bears their love both far and near
Historically there’s love and so much more
What’s more than love you say? Well I’ll reply
There’s Dorothy and Ozma, like a song
A song that sweeps you up into the sky
As if it knows where love and you belong
The princess and her friend will always be
A monument to love’s sweet history.
Ozma and Dorothy Kiss
When Ozma wanted Dorothy to stay
She leaned in close and gifted her a kiss
Tornados twist and take us far away
But oftentimes tornados lead to this
The love of friends too true to leave behind
Waits time and time again for sweet return
Though never lost it may be hard to find
A lesson Dorothy Gale was quick to learn
She fell in love with Ozma here in Oz
And Princess Ozma fell in love with her
They felt their kindred love would never pause
They kissed goodbye with love and friendship pure
The land of Oz will always draw you home
And kiss you when you feel the need to roam.”
Princess Ozma had a tear of happiness in her eye as she addressed the Scarecrow poet while handing him a golden pen that appeared in her hand.
“For composing such beautiful poetry, I hereby appoint you to replace Sir Dashemoff Daily as the official Poet Laureate of Oz.”
At first we stretched and learned to stand upright
Perhaps because we tried to reach a star
The stars were out of reach, not out of sight
Too bright to be ignored, but oh, so far
To reach the stars we’d need to build a ship
We taught our hands to build the things we’d need
At last we reached the moon, a simple trip
What else would be required to succeed?
Success we found was more than just one word
Complexity of words revealed our plight
To reach the stars we thought was not absurd
And if we couldn’t be there, we would write
And so we write about the place we are
Until one day, we know, we’ll reach a star.
We called out as we exited the range
“No brass! No ammo!” meant the range was clear
To some this declaration might seem strange
But strange or not our sergeant had to hear
Except when we shot LAWs our sergeant said
“Of course there is no brass! It’s fired away!”
“You hit the target; now the target’s dead”
“Now drop and think about the words you say.”
And so we dropped for push-ups at his feet
Except Edgardo, Private Gaud was smart
He didn’t like to exercise in heat
He answered sergeant with poetic art
He called to sergeant as he walked on by
“No rockets in my pockets,” was his cry!
I wear my rank where everyone can see
I wear whatever badges I’m allowed
I’m qualified for several, two or three
My silver wings proclaim me Airborne proud
The patch here on my shoulder is my tribe
My ‘tribe’ is just the unit where I serve
It shows I have a military vibe
It also tells the world that I have verve!
And though it wasn’t issued, still I wear
A patch that shows this isn’t just a game
Reminding me of other folks that care
That patch is me, depicted by my name
My name is me; I’m more than just a tag
Like soldiers fight for more than just a flag.
A cadence, like a sonnet, is a song
Whose words both rise and fall with rhythmic sound
It tells us where the right and left belong
It help us keep our feet on steady ground
Its time is quick or double, never slow
Its lyrics mark our days with tales to tell
At times we sing of places we might go
At times the storyline is crass as hell!
A cadence is the soundtrack to a drill
A cadence helps divert unpleasant thought
With cadences we march up every hill
With memories of every fight we fought
A cadence is a hymn we soldiers call
A rhythmic tale that’s more than rise and fall.
