Here I sit amongst the long grasses and the reed,
in a solitary place, where my breath is freed,
on an Indian Summer's evening on the lake bed,
autumn has come, yet the warmth has not fled.
Blazing orange skies, are mirrored to reflect,
I cannot imagine a scene being any more perfect,
as I looked up, an unfallen leaf caught my gaze,
spotlighted in the sun's last golden rays.
I noticed this crimson leaf as it began to wave,
the end of a short life that I could not save,
then swept away suddenly by the wind's rake,
and ripples formed as it landed on the still lake.
The leaf was carried away and my eyes followed,
then drowned by the water's surface and swallowed,
windy fingertips tugged it from the branch to sever,
existing once, like today, and then was gone forever.
Note - This was my original idea for the poem "The leaf",
but it was revised for a contest. I just wanted to post both
versions of the poem.
has long died;
she comes to pass.
across open yards,
blotted white -
then, one last
escapes with might
to southern breeze.
transform with ease.
slowly brighten -
in budding delight,
they sleep no more.
soft to touch,
in wake of warmth
and bubbling sounds
of children’s laughter.
Under a hearty sun,
bare feet and legs
long to lilt
as passion follows
out to taste the open air,
waiting for night
to kiss in the flush
of descending moonlight –
as shooting stars
sleep no more.
last sparks in the fireplace
cool, no longer needed
to kindle romance.
I soften to the touch
of spring dew,
the joyous music -
fresh falling rain;
taking her time
to seed waking soil
until she voraciously
like a lost love –
a restless gypsy
on a journey-
she sleeps no more.
Spring dresses earth
in liveliest colors…
and I smile,
Overwhelmed with the beauty
touching my soul
and sun showers falling
on sweetened dreams.
The steadily falling cold August rains
Continue to pour upon Cheshires lanes;
over flattening fields of soddened wheat,
Soaking the grass, splashing the feet.
Stands the Combine in the shed,
The unripened apples hanging rosy red,
Stands the caped heron all alone;
The glinting eye as cold as stone.
And in amongst the many puddles
We step around like our troubles -
So lurch ahead with our retreat
Like drunken fools in the street.
And through this months darkly frowns
The cleansing downpours wash the towns;
Scrubs the spire from ingrained time,
Absolves the guilt from the crime.
Featuring:) Giorgio Veneto
She writes about Fall's beauty in the rain
The falling raindrops' dance ascribing thence
Bespoken verse that lightens her refrain
before the time they met - her steps commence.
She listens to the soft and rhythmic thrum,
her love turned to escape and cloudy string
Where nimbus mistletoe fell, tears to become
Their kiss of Autumn was symbolic ring.
The first light cotton mists with summer rays
While skyward cheerful laughs adorn the land,
their ceremonial dance diffuses grays,
affectionate embrace, where dreams expand.
Upon September's sky the raindrops gleam
With half of hidden Sun to laugh and beam.
Enjoy the FRAGRANCE OF RAIN
FRAGRANCE OF RAIN
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
The Butterfly Flutters By
On a steamy, sun-drenched, summer Sunday,
Tree leaves delightfully dancing to the tune of
A warm, welcoming, wandering breeze blowing,
Metamorphosis now complete, no memory of being yesterday’s creeping caterpillar,
The butterfly flutters by.
Blatantly, brazenly, boastfully,
Showing off beautiful, brilliant, blue-black and brown wings,
Gracefully gliding through a breathtaking, glorious garden,
The butterfly shyly pitches from blushing, boldly-colored, buds to fragrant flowers,
Cunningly outmaneuvering a competing, hovering hummingbird.
Slyly snatching a satisfying taste of tantalizing, syrupy, sweet nectar
From attention-craving, Golden Flame Honeysuckle vines,
The butterfly flutters by
Cheerfully and completely satiated -
Perhaps, already dreaming about tomorrow’s anticipated sugary feast!
Entered in the contest "The Butterfly Flutters By"
September, you are a wistful song
Summer sheds a tear when you come along
Sunny summer melodies yield to your mellow song
Its melody fades while yours grow strong
Summer ends and a certain sadness ensues
Sunny days make way for winter blues
September gives us glimpses of summer
Though days be short and golden leaves slumber
The vibrant colors September brings
disguise the coming winter sting
As summer dies it makes one last sunny stand
But will return, for thats how it was planned
Until then we must endure a harsh season
All bundled up, keeping warm is the reason
When the first snow falls
The pristine beauty leaves us enthralled
Soon summer will begin anew
Gray clouds make way for skies of blue
We awaken from our winter slumber
And welcome the butterflies of summer
For Joanne Grisetti's Copy Cat contest
:Inspired by the poem: September
Which was written by: Andrea Dietrich
Oh, summer sun, all winter I have missed
your stale hot breath upon my upturned face;
your tongue that seers my flesh as I unlace
the strings on my bikini. I am kissed
by sultry lips that burn. I can’t resist!
I bask in light of day, and I embrace
Your penetrating rays that find each space
of skin exposed. I wait and plan my tryst.
And when you come, I’ll reverence you once more,
supine, as you would have me, to receive
your torrid touch as token of your lust.
In June we’ll meet as always by the lakeshore.
I should not go. So well you can deceive.
Some lovers you have killed! Yet still I trust. . .
*For A Rambling Poet's Scavenger Hunt Contest
This poem emulates the lovely haiku called
"dappled sun," (6/9) and also it is a love poem
for summer much like Constance's Senryu
"Winter Love" is her love affair with winter.
Pink shells on brown hands
As blue water lap white sands
Keen contrast of colors
NOTE: It's summer here in the Philippines, a tropical country of 1,107 islands.
15 April 2015
Captcha Contest - PAK
Sponsor: Judy Konos
The misty foggy morn floated in a dream
And lifted off the mirrored pond almost like a steam.
Moisture laden flowers bowed upon their stems.
Tiny gossamer carpets with sparkling rhinestone gems
Waiting for a whisper breeze to carry them away,
As subtle yellow glow welcomed in the day.
Iridescent dragon flies swooped by and hovered there
Above a water lilly’s bloom opening in prayer,
And as I watched the magic new day softly dawning
I bowed in peace, thankful for this summer morning.
He saunters in with a slow steady gait
gathering all of nature in his warm embrace.
The whimsical artist splashes colors to sky;
miniature airplanes and exotic shaped kites.
Vocal chords of moon beams strummed by crickets and toads;
a serenade through open windows of our humble abodes.
So light on his feet; ocean's glass dance floor;
leading sailboats to sea and lovers to shore.
His breath on your neck puts you under his spell;
caught up in his love, as romances swell.
His pulse beats hot through sun ray veins,
then he showers us with gifts of cool, fresh rain.
We lounge with him in fields and meadows,
and miss him as Fall nudges him deep in the shadows.
Among the long grass of the land and reed,
there is a lonely place where thoughts are freed,
Saint Martin's summer spreads upon the lake
in warm conditions all domains partake.
The blazing, orange skies, on earth reflect
perfection's lingering details connect
a red, still hanging leaf has caught my gaze
spotlighted in the sun's last golden rays.
This leaf, upon the branch, began to wave,
(it's ending, little life I could not save),
and swept away by Autumn's windy rake,
imprinted ripples on the peaceful lake.
The leaf was carried, as my eyes complied,
then drowned inside the lake's blue waves that shied,
the sweeping northern gust, the leaf discerped,
that neath the surface is forever kept.
Written by Kelly Deschler September 19th, 2014
Revised by Giorgio A. V.
Was it all a sweet dream or just reality?,
I sit and ponder that very thought,
During the daylight and in the nighttime,
Wondering, were we ever there or not?
A crescent moon smiled down on me,
Shedding it's white light upon the ground,
I sat amongst the petals, waiting patiently,
And it was there, that me, you found.
Lavender flower petals I did pluck,
As I was seated atop the green hillside,
Does he love me, or does he not?,
My love for you, I could not hide.
I only saw you as a dark silhouette,
A shadow that walked upon the ground,
Among silver stars and a midnight sky,
Your gentle voice was the only sound.
My darkened silhouette was no longer alone,
While yellow fireflies around me dance,
When you came to join me atop that hill,
In the meadow's softly illuminated romance.
I was embraced within your arms,
As your most tender kiss met mine,
On that one warm summer's night,
When our kindred spirits did entwine.
So sad was I when the time came to part,
As the rising sun shined golden upon my hair,
Although, what a beautiful dream it was,
When I awoke and found you there.
Waking Dreams Contest
April, 4th, 2014
All the evergreens are greener
And the pines are darker skinned
Only leaves that bear the burn marks
Are the witnesses of wind.
On the grass the dew is frozen
In a spiders web of white
And the cold that bites my fingers
Makes me wonder as I write.
How did winter come so swiftly
How did summer die so fast
Where’s the grave, where was the battle
Are they all buried in the past?
Now I feel the winter nibble
On my fingers with its frost
And the wind that it has summoned
Mourns for seasons that are lost.
Was it but one dusk, one daybreak
Was it only in a blink?
For the summer was my feather
Now the winter is my ink.
How did shadows shift so quickly
How did colours change so much
As reflections in the water
That simply vanish with a touch?
Now the daffodils are rising
Yet the jasmine blooms are gone
Now the evergreens are greener
And the frost adorns the dawn.
Yes, how strange it is to wonder
So I wonder as I write
What if winter should then also
Simply vanish in the night?
I dedicate this poem (and I'm not being sarcastic or exaggerating)
to my mentor and my friend Timothy Brumley, who taught me
the art of rhythm, showed me the advantage of counting my syllables,
raised my goal from acceptable to perfection,
and helped me to turn my nursery rhymes into poetry.
(and no Tim don’t protest, they really were nursery rhymes)
End of Summer
Glorious Summer was great fun while it lasted,
With sweltering sun, I turned super tan and almost toasted.
Now it’s high time to end this heat bummer,
‘Cause I’ve had enough of another sizzling summer.
Almost dehydrated, I have been panting and sweating,
And I’m tired of using fans and other forms of air-conditioning.
I look forward to naturally cool days and crispy nights,
Wearing light jackets, sexy booties, and colorful tights.
Wild wind whipping my hair and stroking my cheeks,
I welcome the seasons changing in the upcoming weeks.
Leaves exchanging colors of green for hues of oranges and browns,
I’m ready to embrace exhilarating awesome Autumn!
falling from a pregnant tree-
worms ready for feast
Windchimes melodius sounds
Music fills the air
The smell of the summer night air
Takes me back to times we shared
You and I dancing beneath the moon
Crickets playing a lovers tune
Trees full with lush green leaves
Whispering poetry to you and me
A view from beneath a Missouri bluff
Talking of passion, love, and lust
Your hand in mine strolling the path
Sitting on the deck and looking back
Picnic tables and barbecue grills
Driving and parking, is this for real?
My memory’s filled with your sweet love
Do you remember that snow white dove?
A kiss goodnight under a star filled sky
Best friends forever, a promise, no lie
It excites me to think that every year
Whether life or memory I return here
We will create magic again I know
On a summer night in the moon’s soft glow
Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
*inspired by John Heck’s “Summer Celebration” contest
~Spring versus Summer~
Spring is slowly leaving
And summer is swiftly arriving
And for me that really matter
Because the days are getting hotter
I love spring but mostly I love fall
That's when I really have a ball
That's when the days are just kinder
By reminding me when days are just better!
I hate to see spring go,
And for summer to my door just to show,
I don't like to feel all the heat,
Because that's when my body takes the beat
I prefer much better the cold weather
But I like it more when we are together,
Lots of rain and winds start to fall and blow,
Spring is about to exit and take her bow
Spring is slowly leaving
And summer is swiftly arriving
It makes me sad to see spring go
And for summer to my door just to show.
Dorian Petersen Potter
Summer 6 a.m.
( By S.Jagathsimhan Nair)
My house a lidless bowl
Flush with fresh gleaming light
Like the language of birds
A bit of the night’s coolness
Hours are not yet strangers
Holding the roadside tea
Neither milk nor water
I catch the parched cry
Of a milch cow next door
Which makes things as hot
At six as at 12 noon.
A summer evening
The senile sun still
burned us with the foul intent
Of its mid day rage
But, lacking in bite, gave in
Quickly to the taunts of breeze.
It tottered about
In the beach, ran its weak hands
Over wheat fields and
Rested awhile atop the
Banyan’s crown and went to sleep.
8th Dec 12.
Form: Personification in TANKA ( Sylls: 5-7-5-7-7)
By S.Jagathsimhan Nair
For: Giorgio's 'Impress me-3'
When Summer starts her transitory reign,
King Sun, her beau, has steadily ascended,
brightening a sky that, for a time,
shall be his lovely mistress’ domain.
He reaches out his welcoming warm rays
across the span of Summer’s first official day,
lengthening them just as far as he is allowed
so he may well receive his paramour,
enveloping her in the fullest of his golden grand embraces.
But when night descends, Sun’s power wanes.
His wife, a goddess, the fair and steadfast Luna,
arrives to spell her king,
along with her attendants, a host of radiant stars.
Meanwhile, Mistress Summer softly slumbers,
faintly breathing out the warmth that Sun has wrapped her in.
So even in the dark’s coolness, she prevails.
In the dewy dawn, when she awakes,
Summer sees the beauty of her lover’s light and eagerly,
she spurs her King Sun on.
No two were ever so well-matched as these,
for both heat up the days with their consuming ardor
till the time of the equinox
when Summer is exiled for nine months,
to have her rebirth in the following year.
And year after year, for what could be eternity,
Sun bides his time, for he has many lovers. . .
But as lovers go,
it’s Summer who’s most expert at inciting the passion in his soul.
by andrea dietrich/ Motif is nature. Also romance
For the Impress Me Contest III of Giorgio V.
I remember that day
As clear as the crystal springs in June
When the sun rose upon a gladsome sky
Bursting through the harbor and the fields
As soft as the buds by the quivering dew
Dancing in the blue distance.
Summer's warm and scented breath
Invaded the clustered pathway
Where the last mountain spray
Descended in your eyes
Like a constant burning fire
That glimmers like fulgent streams of spring.
You held a delicate rose
In your limpid hands kissed by the
Vast fountains of purity's grace
That greeted my eyes with coy beauty
When the day was ripe with glory .
Like a flower you blossomed in my eyes
As one who held heaven in her smile
And sweet rosebuds on her lips
That trembles in the cold
With a budding joy as new as the moon
In the fullness of the night.
You drew a few words from your sad breath
That pierced like a striking sword
When the voice of the wind echoed
Through the lilac vines
Entangled on the weeping trees
That nods in the noonday light
In the last breath of summer.
My soul sank in dejection
Wet with despair.
Anguish flashing in my aching heart
Like an untamed madness
On this boundless land .
Oh please don't leave my love
Oh please don't leave my love
Because if you do
The mortal fire in my veins
My breath would mute
And my lifeless body
Would drift me to some unknown hell
To live forever
In a helpless state of deep despair
In a desolate darkness
Of utter hopelessness!
Orphaned footsteps round the old place.
Pitch black soil, packed deep with bartered
coin and Indian heads – wood and otherwise,
coat her worn leather shoes, Hutterite chic.
The long land screams within its own silence.
Prairie sage burns somewhere, a ghostly smudge
for the undulating grass and, those it serves.
Its alive scent makes the dead turn towards
its head - and the barely living turn to listen.
The impossibly endless horizon holds its bright
blue at bay, begging acknowledgement for
its self-professed being and looming enormity.
She looks at the broken window glass and
through the tattered, delicate gray lace. “Those
were hers.” She whispers to the one who listens.
This great-great-granddaughter sees the curtains
as they once were – wistful in the hot Manitoba
wind; fresh and lowing with the honest elemental
scent of aspens, hope and bare-knuckle wash boards;
always fresh; shifting in the cry for solace in summer
shadows – never as still as this moments endlessness.
Blowing through the deep brown of splintered pine
front doors; cracking the announcement of cast iron,
rot and burnt wood comes the simple statement of –
I lived. This mother of five young does not cry,
just yearns to walk in the old ones footsteps;
to know them loved; hear the birdsong through
unbroken bedroom windows for a 5am waking;
feel the resistance of dough on fingers that beg
to be broken, and kiss the twisting undead, living.
The burning of the noonday sun taps her whole,
marking; branding her pale Swedish skin its own.
The red sting of burnt breaks her inward silence,
welcoming her familiar face home.
© Kristin Reynolds 3 29 2009
*Reposted for John's Summer Celebration Contest. This is a personal celebration;
celebrating and honoring my great grandparents who settled in Manitoba after leaving
Sweden and Denmark. This celebrates the summer of family, at least for me. We went there
every summer until it was gone...
Bless me with the magic you possess,
wafting balm of coolness through the air.
Summer wind of sea, erase my stress
as I languish beachside in this chair.
Wafting balm of coolness through the air,
soothe my mind and breathe sweet peace to me.
As I languish beachside in this chair,
whisper in my ear . . . tranquility.
Soothe my mind and breathe sweet peace to me.
Fan my sun-drenched face, oh, gentle breeze.
Whisper in my ear. . . tranquility.
Do refresh! I’m feeling so at ease.
Fan my sun-drenched face, oh, gentle breeze.
Summer wind of sea, erase my stress.
Do refresh! I’m feeling so at ease.
Bless me with the magic you possess!
By Andrea Dietrich
The dark clouds threatened rain in the late evening sky.
They decided to take an umbrella in order to stay dry.
Their happiness was evident on each others face.
As they eagerly tucked an arm around each others waist.
Their conversation was easy as they matched each others stride.
Their eyes lit with glee from the love they felt inside.
They smiled at each other as the summer rain began to fall.
No where on earth they rather be, a special glance said it all.
They stopped upon a bridge as lightening streaked the sky.
Thunder rumbling loudly made the girl hug tighter her guy.
The rain falling heavily now dancing in the river below.
They shared a tender kiss, neither afraid to let their feelings show.
The summer rainstorm suddenly ended as quickly as it began.
In time for an amazing sunset, the first shared by this woman and man.
A smiling mother nature must have thought what else could she bestow.
For in the sky a crescent moon appeared and a spectacular rainbow.
They both knew that this shared experience was a rare one indeed.
Both realizing their love is magical and that they better take heed.
To let a special love like theirs slip away would be such a crime.
For true love is precious and comes around only once in a lifetime.
`Let us forever continue this "Walk of Love".
*A true story
I woke up to the rumbling sky
Of thousand hooves thundering
Through the heavens' horse race
And their dark dusty clouds
I filled my cup with dewdrops
Before the rain fell
And painted the roads black
With its sweaty sheen
The late summer day
Has just begun its rounds
As I took a sip in my dreams
Lightning’s crashing all around
The Daffodil, peeks at the yellow rays of the Morning Sun
She raises her head :through the withering snow mound : with Dazzling Beauty
The Daffodil , Sings in harmony; Arise for I am : the Spring
The Golden weed, the Dandelion , reflects the yellow Halo Floating in the Sky
Knowing Life is short ,the Dandelion dots the Summer landscape
With Her Halo turning White, She calls the Wind and flies through the rays of the Sun
Goldenrod waits until summer is nigh o’er before waving elegantly
To the Yellow orb, warming her roots, She melodiously Sings Forever be Your Glory
The Goldenrod , humbly Hums Hymns : to the very Eye of a Loving GOD
Yellow Roses speak of the Memories : “watching the grass “Sportsman’s WAVE””
She sees the Glory of Nature : more Beautiful with each Magnificent : Sunrise
Yellow Roses, petals so Silky Soft, holding in “ Remembrance “ a long Lost “ LOVE “
The “ AquaRose “ that Grows, in the deep Caribbean Sea “4 miles North of Aruba”
Screams For the Sun, from her watery Grave, Yet she shines in a sea of “ Sapphire
" Blue "
The Depth of the “Blue sea, the Blue Sky above” Shadow the glow of Sweet
" Sunshine "
Inspired by the Contest : " Flowers " : Sponsored by Francine Roberts
Dedicated To my LOVES : " Barbara Jean " & " Lenore Ellen "
Author's Note : I Hope this is Read the way it was Written
YOUR Liege ALWAYS, LOVE : HGarvey Daniel Esquire
7th Place win
breezeless summer day -
motionless on lily pad
frog waits for victim
Reposing roses and dozing posies exhale perfumed sighs with nearing night
as the drowsy June moon softly suffuses scent-soaked skies with languid light.
for 'Lovin' Summer' contest
of endless ebb
where sunlit haunts
of yesterday call
immersed in blue
where white sand gleam
intertwines soft rush of delicate sea
your almond skin
in innocence lay bare
graced in beauty
with dulcet tear
as sun sinks near
a treasure discovered
where coral skies mirror