André Cronje - Pearls Of Poetry

A Compilation of Favorites.

By André Cronje

Licensed for personal enrichment and may be used for edification and motivation. No part may be reproduced for profit or resale.

André Cronje © 2021 Copyright

Conceptual Art by André

In special honor to King James.

Copyright Copyright Contents Copyright 1. Flowers 2. Neither 3. Charlie’s Hell’s Angels 4. On My Own 5. The King of Clowns 6. Going Higher 7. Careless 8. Fashion Police 9. Sleeping Beauty 10. What I Do 11. Today’s Tomorrow 12. Begging 13. The wishing Well 14. The Missing Thought 15. Rainbow Land 16. I Am Who I Am 17. The Spinning Wheel 18. Goals and Dreams Licensed for personal enrichment and may be used for edification and motivation. No part may be reproduced for profit or resale. André Cronje © 2021 Copyright Conceptual Art by André In special honor to King James.

1. Flowers 1. Flowers Flowers are given for many reasons, Flowers that grow in different seasons. Flowers are perfumed letters in color, Flowers are silent words with goodly deeds. Flowers scents with heaven’s commission, Flowers release nature's joyful emotions. Flowers flatters and spark the eyes, Flowers for aroma and flowers for beauty, Flowers from the heart that keeps beating. Flowers for weddings, and funeral flowers, Sadly, not seen again by those dead and gone. Flowers for a friend sprouts appreciation, Flowers for a partner spices romance, Flowers for any occasion and reason, And finding an opportunity is not hard to do. Flowers for love, and flowers for peace, May these flowers I pray, never cease.

2. Neither 2. Neither Neither up, neither down, Just a little bit self-centered, smiled the narcissistic clown. Neither hot, neither cold, Just a little lukewarm I was told. Neither a boy, neither a girl, Just a little candy confused, a mannequin pronounced. Neither pink, neither blue, just a bow and chain, to describe them and they, walking down the aisle of denial. Neither me, neither you, just a little bit of everything, to sway a very naive crowd.

3. Charlie’s Hell’s Angels 3. Charlie’s Hell’s Angels Holy Cow, they did it again, whispering sacrilege at the funeral parlor? Show and tell, how they intoxicate, Chanel with the scent of death, burning incense with pressing Tabac. With sticks and stones, drums, and beat, Harry would pot and craft Celtic chants, to Charlie and his angels, dead and gone. Like haunted ghost their demons, would come to the party and cartel, Sounds like Lucifer, the angel who fell. Public and proud they assault, the innocent with insults and injuries, using blunt objects of democratic speech, to viral hatred that contaminates, with twisted words, deceiving open minds. What are they scheming, no one can tell? funneling evil artistically, with a spell. Wondering souls, darkened by the hour, Comical they poke obtuse holes, to curse the blessed peace off this land. And with games of immorality, they build their thrones with anarchy, to stain and profane brands and names. Moh, they laid to rest after the terror, Yet they keep mocking the blessed Christ. Wicked and nasty, they post to shame, Claiming liberty, by horseback-riding, human rights, and the public press. Fearing no one, not even God. Wish they did to escape his wrath to come.

4. On My Own 4. On My Own I’m on my own, but I am not alone. It is crazy I know, but I am at peace. A rushing crowd would tell a different story, as they chase the wind and endless glory. Quietly I watch from the sideline. I used to be that star player. But times have changed, and my world has rearranged. I walked down the street and met a friend. His words were peace and joy, but it cut my heart like a knife. Not till I looked at the cross, and saw God's love, did I know what he meant, when he said, I am born again. Amazing grace how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now I am found, to Christ I belong. I'm no longer alone.

5. The King of Clowns

6. Going Higher

7. Careless

8. Fashion Police

9. Sleeping Beauty

10. What I Do

11. Today’s Tomorrow

12. Begging

13. The wishing Well

14. The Missing Thought

15. Rainbow Land

16. I Am Who I Am

17. The Spinning Wheel

18. Goals and Dreams

Flowers are given for many reasons,

Flowers that grow in different seasons.

Flowers are perfumed letters in color,

Flowers are silent words with goodly deeds.

Flowers scents with heaven’s commission,

Flowers release nature's joyful emotions.

Flowers flatters and spark the eyes,

Flowers for aroma and flowers for beauty,

Flowers from the heart that keeps beating.

Flowers for weddings, and funeral flowers,

Sadly, not seen again by those dead and gone.

Flowers for a friend sprouts appreciation,

Flowers for a partner spices romance,

Flowers for any occasion and reason,

And finding an opportunity is not hard to do.

Flowers for love, and flowers for peace,

May these flowers I pray, never cease.

Neither up, neither down,

Just a little bit self-centered,

smiled the narcissistic clown.

Neither hot, neither cold,

Just a little lukewarm I was told.

Neither a boy, neither a girl,

Just a little candy confused,

a mannequin pronounced.

Neither pink, neither blue,

just a bow and chain,

to describe them and they,

walking down the aisle of denial.

Neither me, neither you,

just a little bit of everything,

to sway a very naive crowd.

Holy Cow, they did it again,

whispering sacrilege at the funeral parlor?

Show and tell, how they intoxicate,

Chanel with the scent of death,

burning incense with pressing Tabac.

With sticks and stones, drums, and beat,

Harry would pot and craft Celtic chants,

to Charlie and his angels, dead and gone.

Like haunted ghost their demons,

would come to the party and cartel,

Sounds like Lucifer, the angel who fell.

Public and proud they assault,

the innocent with insults and injuries,

using blunt objects of democratic speech,

to viral hatred that contaminates,

with twisted words, deceiving open minds.

What are they scheming, no one can tell?

funneling evil artistically, with a spell.

Wondering souls, darkened by the hour,

Comical they poke obtuse holes,

to curse the blessed peace off this land.

And with games of immorality,

they build their thrones with anarchy,

to stain and profane brands and names.

Moh, they laid to rest after the terror,

Yet they keep mocking the blessed Christ.

Wicked and nasty, they post to shame,

Claiming liberty, by horseback-riding,

human rights, and the public press.

Fearing no one, not even God. Wish they