A fragile winter butterfly
Flutters from the sky
So soft and yet her heart
Is cold and made of ice
But if I warm it
She will melt and die
Author: Elaine George
When it left the Arctic it was as a wild angry wind
that stormed its way across the ice bound Arctic ocean.
Blowing the snow clad icebergs and whipping up the ocean.
As it crossed Alaska and into Canada it had gentled
now it played games with leaves and softly kissed flowers.
Gaily it soared over the Rockies and tugged goats beards
causing them to shake their heads and stamp their feet.
In Playful mood it swept on hugging the coast awhile
then veering inland, it travels the plains and grows in strength
turning into a raging tornado causing havoc as it passes.
Moving ever southward it basks in now warm sunshine
and skips over the gulf of Mexico filling yachts sails.
Deep down in South America it turns into a wild fury that
uproots trees snapping them in half like matchsticks,
Then onward once more dancing past the Falkland islands.
Its destiny is now in sight and with triumphant roar
it rushes on over the Antarctic ocean and slides up
the icy barrier then screams its way across the tundra
yet slowly it loses its power and as it reaches the incline
this moody wind fades away until with final breath it dies.
contest Best Poem of 2014
Autumn brushes her hair slowly
Letting the glorious colors
flow gently to the earth below.
Showing off vibrant colors
in contrast to summer's green dress.
Out doing the starkness,
of winter's white coat.
Autumn compares the mutable
shades of spring to her fall
Giving a sigh ,end of another season.
She packs her brush
as frost touches her tips.
While you sleep
Lady dressed in white
And melt your cold heart made of ice
High into the sky
And fall as raindrops from God’s eyes
Where now you will grow
With me - in the bloom of a rose
Author: Elaine George
* Note: This poem is a Personification as well as a triple Fibonacci
Brian Strand's 'Image Contest': First Place
John Heck's '12-in-one' Contest: First Place
Spring stirs her eager young
Giving life, renewed to those
Who stand about and doze
She whispers hope, of things begun
Beneath winter's cold repose.
Summer, smiling golden rays
With ample breasts of rain
Feeds, and soothes the pain
Of changing white to green to gray
While dressing her wards again.
Fall, donning multicolored hues
Weeps, her leaves cascading
As her life is brilliantly fading
She takes with her the morning dew
Leaving frost in the trading.
Winter, wearing crystal shards
Bares her nudity to all
Standing gracefully tall
She lays a white robe upon my yard
While singing her wanton call.
And I.....well, I sit passively by
Watching through shielding glass
Four sisters marching past
Thanking God who dwells on high
For His daughters stark contrasts.
Timothy I. Brumley
Ascending towering mountains with the greatest of ease,
laughing as foliage tickles my tummy with soft, feathery leaves.
Endless melodies, I have played, breezing through dangling chimes,
luring enchanted fairies with an orchestra sublime.
Lifting kites of brilliant colors, I choreograph the dance.
Such magnificent, breathtaking moves, never given to chance.
Designer of vast deserts, sculpting massive, lounging dunes.
Artist of the lonely face that rises from the moon.
Donning infinite perfumes; sweetest flowers; savory food,
or the salt of seven seas, when in a traveling mood.
Ghost writer of romantic voyages, sailors and pirates tell;
beached lovers on exotic islands, my gust upon their sail.
I've swooped down through lost canyons, and valleys, emerald green;
lain in meadow's tall lush grass to nap in sun's warm gleam.
My disposition revealed by soft whispers through the trees,
or howls from the north, saddled on winter's cold, pale steed.
Old as God himself, being born of his first breath.
I fill the lungs of eternity, forever evading death.
I was once a little twig with dreams of being a mighty tree
So people would come from all around just to look at me
As the years started to come and go I fell in love with the wind
I would open myself big and wide swaying to the music of my friend
My rings became many and my bark was as red as red could be
Then the day finally came I was the tallest of the tallest trees
I stood tall and I stood proud and everyone knew my name
As my rings continued recording my destiny to fame
Then the fateful day it came my friend and I had a fight
Looking back I can't recall who was wrong or right
I said, "You are but the wind something people can't even see"
" And I'm the king of them all the tallest of the tallest trees"
That night the wind started to howl she really started to blow
And I the tallest of all the trees learned we reap what we sow
My roots struggled to hold on tight but without a soul around
She who had been my dearest friend knocked me to the ground
The loggers came and cut me up then shipped me away
To my soul that truly was a sad and lonely day
Torn from all I knew and loved wishing I didn't have to feel
I was cut into boards and post down at the local mill
Now I'm back here at home just a few feet away
From where my friend the wind and I used to dance and play
I'm the deck on which you stand I lay below your feet
There is a bench made of me would you care to have a seat
Sometimes in life our roles change just take a look at me
The trick is no matter who are what you are be all you can be
See I was once a little twig who became a mighty tree
And now I'm a redwood deck as proud as proud can be
And of my friend the wind she visits me everyday
So I can thank her once again for helping me find my way
There comes without a warning,
one in hooded mantle grey,
with silent footfall treading. . .
treading nightfall into day.
An eerie mist - mysterious -
he haunts the valley floor.
He surges on through deep of night
and rolls along the shore.
And through the forest -
pressing on -
he wraps his cloak round trees.
The wanderers in empty woods
will feel much less at ease.
Then along a wall he creeps,
or climbs a city stair.
In seconds, traffic crawls with him.
Pedestrians, take care!
For those on foot within the fringe
of Phantom’s murky cape
will sense a chill -
the apparition’s breath upon their nape.
I wonder what this specter seeks;
what answer that he needs. . .
to travel far
before his gloom recedes.
Previously For Thvia Shetley's
"Clever Analogies if you please!"
Now for PD's Epic and Mysterious Contest
. Beneath a brilliant sapphire blue and cloudless canopy,
dipping swaying dreamily adrift in a fantasy,
shimmering in the noon daylight she dances with the breeze,
until she breaks on the shore and is swallowed by the sea.
Author: Elaine George
Written: February 9th, 2006
Where Luna treads
are silver threads,
the wisps of clouds that slide
through sky of night,
and shining white,
they part so she might glide
dark twilight’s blue
with slow and regal grace.
And to our world,
with aspect pearled,
she turns a beaming face.
She casts her glow
on those below
who love her mystery. . .
who reverence her
as with allure,
she dances on the sea.
The lovers sigh
as by and by,
the night fades into day.
And in their dreams
she softly gleams
before she slips away.
For Barbara Gorelick's Contest
"For Heaven's Sake"
It started high up in the clouds,
the moisture balling together until
it became a perfect tear drop hovering
then falling down, gaining speed.
Bumping into others amalgamating,
spinning dropping ever downwards.
Landing with large splash on a leaf
and trickling, running ever down.
Joining still as it flows on
over the edge to the ground.
The rain drop fell into a puddle
and spread out reflecting the sky.
Glistening, sparkling and pulsing
It follows the contours of the land
giving life to all as it passes by,
relentlessly advancing with glee.
Not over yet, it flowed into a lake
now a vast body of water it continues
onwards, ever onwards. One day it
will return to the sky. That's another story.
The first breath of autumn - so softly creeps
Kissing the face of summer - as she sleeps
Stirring within - such passion and desire
Setting every bough and green leaf - on fire
Ablaze of flames - in shades - of red and gold
Burning the meadows - and the valleys below
Autumn’s breath - a perfume of sweet decay
Hangs over the earth - in a crimson haze
Memories rekindled - in all the leaves
In their final hour - still cling to the trees
Until Autumn expels - her final breath
And falls - in a kaleidoscope - to her death
Where her ashes will sleep beneath the snow
giving warmth to the seeds - buried below
Author: Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada
Written: August 23, 2013
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.
S - P - R - I - N - G
Ah! Harsh cold winter must be tired,
his grip weakening, he breathes his last.
The frowning skies finally crumble fast
revealing downy blue clouds that waltz
The sun blows kisses of shine--- like a rainfall
touching, caressing but melting adagio
the white icy coats among branches...
The blossoms sultry strip to loosen their curves
then upon naked arms of trees curls
the color green trembling with symptoms of spring.
Birds twiddle free to sound like thrums.
Evergreen trees duet as they whistle
to calm tunes of nippy breeze.
All around a choir blushing fountain hues
of brown, red, pink and yellow.
Animals long-hiding from hugs of frost
now stands. They burst with grins and jolts--
like squirrels bouncing up and down.
Butterflies outstretch wings flutter by!
Snow that clogs and plugs finally weeps--
running dry with the heat rising slow on air.
It stirs sweet liquid pearls
to tip-toe on leaves and petal's swells.
Buzzing bees chase fresh floating nectar...
Lured, they dance on merry-go-round
in the warm bosom of smiling sunshine.
Coats and boots all pack and rolled away,
chuckles and giggles tickle the daytime flair
as little children prance to do some plays.
POEM OF THE DAY -- JANUARY 07, 2015
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name: Seasons
06:49 pm, January 01, 2015
I am the spirit of satin stardust
and the antiquities of golden memories alive
I call to you from the rising warmth of the sun
and greet you in the misty morning light
I am the steady and rolling drum beat
echoing from the jagged heights above
I am the mysterious curves of the raging waters'
and the freedom birds of love
I rise above the white summer clouds
in lilting songs of grace
and roam with the western tail-winds
to take you home again
I am a Spirit of our gracious Lord God Almighty
of love hope and faith
I have come to tell................
Contest~ONE OF YOUR BEST
Nature’s forgiveness implored,
Crimes humanity has, against the environment
Sincerely, his serious concern expressed for the
Peril, the whole planet was in, because of
Nature, attentively, listened to every word, Man,
Wished so much to say,
Then, turning towards him, with great emphasis
“Worry not about me, my very dear child
Ample time to recover I would have, soon after
Your upcoming disappearance
For long now, you, so thoughtlessly, have yourself
© Demetrios Trifiatis
09 MARCH 2015
Who Art Thou?
Thou carriest me to distant clime, to Egypt in my mind.
I’m Cleopatra, naked. In thy folds, I solace find.
Thou art gentle, like sweet Antony. With body splayed, I lie
Upon thee in a valley, and above us is blue sky.
Those times, I come to visit thee with arms outstretched, for peace.
Other times, with steady strokes, I find in thee release.
Thou holdest me though I cut thee; thou art soothing like a balm.
I love thee when thou art able to flow, clear and calm.
At times, thou canst rage. On those days, I've no need of thee,
But other times I move within thee, working mightily.
And when my body’s spent, I leave thee for a while
Until I see thee next, and thou wilt be for me, my Nile.
This is a Thing!!
I sit here enjoying nature
From high up on the tree
I gaze an encompassing all that is around me
The weather is cool
With a soft breeze flowing through the autumn leaves
Colors of greens turning to shades of red, yellows, purples, and browns
Gently falling like a light feather
To the floors beneath the canopy of trees
A light shower of cool rain
Settles on everything in sight
With sunshine reflecting of the water droplets
Each making a rainbow of it’s own
With colors of reds, yellows, blues, and violets
My attention is caught with the sounds of movement in the brush
With the rustling and stirring of the different colored leaves
Of shades of red, yellows, purples, and brown
On the floors beneath the canopy of trees
I fly very quietly in pursuit of my prey
Eventually spreading my wings and striking with my feet
To snatch my prey
I am sitting on my perch hooting
Swivel my head more than 180 degrees looking in all directions
Encompassing all that is around me
Waiting for the sounds of movement in the brush to start again
The fish is a creature cold and wet
Hooked by line and trawled by net,
Easy to catch and yummy to eat
Fried in oil or seared by heat.
I must admit I eat my share
So my guilt I sadly bear.
Handless and legless they strive to survive
Yet they are loved more....Dead than alive!
Fish cannot scream
Fish cannot yell
The pain from a hook,fish cannot tell.
Fish cannot scratch
Most do not bite
They go to the pan with little fight
What a frenzy,what a fuss
When one of them devours us!
It's on the telly,it's in the press
"Each shark killed is a monster less."
It's not in the press,its not on the telly.
How many of them are in our belly!
If fish could scream,if fish could cry
If fish had fur or big brown eyes.
If fish were dry and nice and warm
We'd never do them any harm.
We'd think them cute,they'd get respect
They wouldn't 'get it in the neck'.
Protest groups would march the streets,
And fish would multiply in peace.
She holds herself above the thorns of bitterness-
So sharp and green with envy of her loveliness-
As she trembles in the chill of winter’s breath-
That stills the beating of her scarlet breast-
As her petals fall like drops of blood
Upon the snowy mantle white
As beautiful in death
As she was – my Rose - in life
Author: Elaine George
Awarded: First Place
Brian Strand's 1 to 8 contest
With a kiss of deadly breath
She finally brings her down
All her flames of crimson amber
Frozen on the ground
Snow white winter
Dead at last
Stares in silence
By the beauty
In the glass
Rivulets of ice hung greedily
to the barren, brown, basalt,
like ribbon-candy in a baby’s hand.
The sweet, wet, drool oozed from Mother Earth,
like a frozen curtain draping the mist scattered day,
hiding the promise of spring.
A bird of grandiose stature, he struts the veld
do not anger him for his powerful kick
can main or even kill. Gently he watches
over his brood their mother left long ago.
It falls onto him to incubate their eggs.
Impressive wing span as he shades his chicks
from the relentless midday scorching sun.
Watch those long legs hammering away
as he chases off a rival who strays too close.
Yet for all his strength and size a pea of a brain
famous for hiding his head in the sand
as if it will make him invisible from sight,
he does look so weird bum stuck up in the air.
Attracted by anything that glitters
he gobbles up all sorts of weird things.
Once tamed his joy is to run in races but rarely
in a straight line as he veers here and there,
oft times leaving mayhem in his wake.
As dusk falls he gathers up his brood
and struts off into the setting sun
his life is really quite a simple one
with freedom to roam the sunlit veld.
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.
One moist patch, like dewy grass,
surrounded by a field of weeds,
emerges first and breathes at last,
through openings, the air it needs.
Cut off from, and cut off of;
counting on, and counting in;
from down below, to up above -
A smack on tender, crimson skin.
There is a pulse.
One spring bud, like seedling stems,
surrounded by a garden wall,
is standing out from all of them,
despite the fact, they're just as tall.
And though the bud has not yet grown,
the soil and the water see
more than just the seed they've sewn.
They see the flower it will be.
There is a pulse.
One tall stem, like climbing vines,
surrounded by its petals' plumes,
shares its elegant designs,
and stretches as it blooms.
And when the wind begins to call,
the flower spreads it's pollen 'round.
It falls in love, and loves in fall,
and falling love renews the ground.
There is a pulse.
Jungle by night
In the far jungle
The big bear of darkness lay
Crouched all night on leafy ground.
It glared through eyes of
Oil lamps of far away huts.
When dawn came, it slunk away.
Form: Personification in Form ‘Sedoka’( Syllables: 5-7-7, 5-7-7 )
For Giorgio's 'Impress me-2'
I move with stealth, assurance
Muscles taunt beneath striped coat
Footpads softly caress the ground
The grasslands and forests of India
Men refer to me as Bengal
They wish to trap the predator
Sieze my freedom
Place me in a cage
I would rather be mounted on their wall
My brothers and sisters
Pace within their prisons
Lifeless meat placed at their feet
Not wild buffalo
Where is the deer, the wild pig
No thrill of the hunt
Life without balance
Eyes that have lost their fire
Oppressors and their children
look through bars or plexiglass windows
What can they truly see
Just a shadow of beauty
A glimmer of strength
They do not witness one like me
I am Bengal
I am meant to be free
I will fight to remain
The master of this land
Come witness me here
I'm not in a cage
So I say beware
Don't come too near
For Regina's Animal poem contest.
I AM A WATER LILY
When blue skies kiss whisper and queer ripples quiver...
I drink on sun rays and bathe from rain tumbling in my swerves,
I stand there afloat-- graceful and reserve--
from pink petals shimmer, I flush also a moonlit snow.
Honeyed aroma I puff and puff chasing wind curves
thrilling some senses, awakening some nerves!
Upon gush and waves of bursting rainbow colors,
I lay atop, my rhizomes rise, they waft....
Around my roots are croaking frogs and slimy eels,
they thrive for I supply their daily meals.
Day by day in my life, I live to be pure,
my heart beakons heaven yet my roots down here...
Even if currents trample me and storms blow me,
unto the ocean nuclei, I, still like a sailing ship
but upon force, upon wonders I shall abide
giving my everything-- my best white shots!
Note: Rhizomes - a horizontal plant stem with shoots above and roots below
serving as a reproductive structure
~~WATER LILY ---purity of heart ~~
Sponsor Andrea Dietrich
Contest Name Picture Yourself as a Flower!
10:29 am, May 05, 2015
Not many see,
What it is to be free.
What it is to amount,
To make every day count.
Everything has a story,
Though the place your at you say is boring.
There's more behind this rundown town.
From the highest mountian,
To the streets unfound.
Where children once played,
And by their side their parents stayed.
Where the sky may not shine as bright,
But to every darkness there's light.
Where the creature's of the world find home,
While your complaining that the air's too cold.
When you're strong, it shows,
Planing each day as it goes.
Smiling and helping whoever you can,
Instead of moping about how much you hate this land.
You can't change the way the trees sway,
You can't change what's already gone away.
But the beauty of the world can take you in,
Make you see beauty like you should have when your life began.
When you start to appreciate the little things,
Like the crickets chirping,
And the songs birds sing.
You'll find all you needed has been there all along,
Only then you'll see where happiness comes from.
If to see is to believe,
Then there's belief all around.
From the starry night sky,
To the flowers on the ground.
So many find pleasure in all the wrong things,
Humanity has overcome,
Yet still falls apart at the seams.
We're so focused in on money and gold,
Before we know it our life has no meaning,
Our skin becomes cold.
It's never too late,
And you're never too near or far.
To make the best of things,
And be happy where you are.