Randal A. Burd, Jr. is an educator, freelance editor, writer, and poet. His freelance writing includes assignments on the paid writing team for Ancestry.com and multiple online blogs, newsletters, and publications.
Randal received his Master’s Degree in English Curriculum and Instruction from the University of Missouri. He currently works on the site of a residential treatment facility for juveniles in rural Missouri. He lives in southeast Missouri with his wife and two children.
Humblest Apologies
Too personal a thought to be laid bare,
A naked truth now shrouded in cheap rhyme.
No less profound to stand the test of time
Than those the masters once saw fit to share.
Why should a random stranger deem to care?
Expression via sonnet is a crime–
To use such an archaic paradigm
And then expect one’s talent to compare.
Consider, then, emotions found within
And surely found throughout humanity
Have meant enough to someone such as me
To risk unwanted feelings of chagrin.
And thus, with ample warning, pray begin
To reassess conventionality.
Prematurely Blessed
I watched her come too fast into this world.
I heard those faint unhealthy infant cries.
And as they checked her length and weight and size,
Her little fingers ’round my finger curled.
Untimely from her mother’s womb was hurled
Our premature and sickly sacred prize
Who, we would later come to realize,
Became the star ’round which our planet whirled.
Her sickliness received intensive care;
Pneumonia left her lungs and let her thrive–
So lucky and so blessed to be alive!
Our lives were changed forever then and there.
And ever since our daughter did arrive,
There’s never been a day that could compare.
While Waiting
While waiting for the Greyhound bus,
my dad and I, the two of us,
recounted pleasant moments passed:
the memories we had amassed,
experienced, and oft discussed.
Our dialog continued thus—
light-hearted and extraneous—
until we saw the bus at last
while waiting.
We said goodbye without much fuss;
I stepped into the ominous,
uncharted future from the past
not knowing how my die was cast
and feeling I grew up too fast
while waiting.