The sky is lying,
The sun is crying.
Copyright © Tiffiny Hagan | Year Posted 2015
Diamond dawn softened cold clinical walls,
smoothing harsh lines, soothing the sleepless
with love's lilting lullaby. Pastel-bloom hues
sparkled with crystals of dew -
glimmer-prisms of diamond-cut light,
in the month of showers and flowering bowers.
Red and yellow daisies studded dark soil
like gemstones tumbled under the flower of the sun.
Sweet peas twined a bright trellis of light;
clinging like a baby's fist, curling around sunbeams,
climbing a golden ladder of sunlight.
Crystalline morning softly stroked your face -
a sleeping jewel, gently polished
by the early light of a late April sunrise.
dedicated to my little 'sweet pea' Jake, born 28th April 2009
Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2012
One April day, that changed my life
You lived nearby, a drive not far
I picked you up, with nerves a rife
Blessed my dad, had loaned me his car.
I drove you slowly, together alone
Savoring each moment, you smelled divine
I loved your accent, the kind words you spoke
Upon Air Base now, while I on cloud nine.
Together on tarmac, we strolled and made small talk
Watching planes fly, fortunate in your presence
Inside one huge plane, upon stern gate we walked
Clasping hands and hearts, my first glimpse of Heaven.
It was our first date, the initial of many
Thirty-seven years ago, on this April tenth
Since then, our love remaining solid a plenty
Selflessly sharing each’s unlimited strength.
My lifetime a thank you, for giving me love
Being the one, my affectionate soul mate
Through mostly good times, quite many thereof
Defining the source, it was that very first date!
Copyright © Michael Wegman | Year Posted 2014
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2013
Love was as hot as a red moon.
Passion was on fire and was soothed.
A total lunar eclipse occurred on April 15.
The moon was coopery red.
The warmth of her blood was astrologically aligned.
Mother Earth was with her Sun God.
She stood majestically in his eyes.
The core of his being was a deep arousal of desire.
Oblivion Dark Sunshine
Sought the Red Moon via telescope,
a ritualized ceremony.
Sponsor: Dave Wood
Contest Name: RED MOON
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
I do not write in April, because that’s the month that comes before May.
I do not write in April, because then June would arrive in total disarray!
I do not write in April, now, although I have before this day.
I do not write in April, actually, although with words I’m known to play.
I do not write in April, when there’s ANZAC’s, Easter and Palm Sunday.
I do not write in April, and from that delicate decree I’ll not go astray.
I do not write in April, but exactly why, I can’t quite say.
I do not write in April, and it’s for the best, that here, I don’t betray.
I do not write in April, although I do read papers from my in-tray.
I do not write in April, so you won’t find any papers in my out-tray.
I do not write in April, when I’m outside whiling my time away.
I do not write in April, for that fills my insides with strange dismay!
I do not write in April, for I’ll not wear a wreath like a gloomy lay!
I do not write in April, but I’ll cheerfully whistle down your way.
I do not write in April come whatever, come what may.
I do not write in April. I do not write in April I say!
I do not write in April, but I’d gladly sing a song for Spring to stay.
Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2013
Wild, wild, the spring tide reaches the rivers height;
Strong, strong, the spring tide rolls on and on.
Glittering, glittering, the full moon rises into the sky bright;
Strong, strong, the moon spreads on the waves, on the plains, on the woods,
On the flowers. Sparkling, sparkling, the moonbeam is mirrored in the spring tides.
Unawares, unawares, beside the shores, the moonlight snows the sand;
The moon, when first it shone; Beside the shores, who first beheld?
Alas! The Penelope’s ten-year torture of mine! I truly understand.
You like Odysseus wander the shores as the clouds flying away.
As the moon, the course of life is on its way.
Piteous, piteous, the moonlight covers the towers
Where I climb on and groan- as we are Arcas and Callisto.
The beam merges in the curtain, the anvil, and my polished dresser,
Which invokes my eager amour of your distant soul.
I wish I were the tender moonlight to bath you all.
With the gleaming moonbeam, my warm love is floating;
My eagerness, the groups of flying geese fail sending.
Suddenly, suddenly the school of fish springs into the current flowing,
Which quickly makes the rough ripples on the waves dissipate.
O! ‘Tis like my innermost yearnings beginning to evaporate.
The spring of sorrows! That night I dreamed the flowers’ falling;
The spring, the current is carrying; The sea, the moon is gradually melting in.
O! My youth and your flesh like the spring and moon are fading;
I spend half the spring awaiting your reappearance on the sea;
On the ocean, in Troy, you continue going on the long journey.
I lament, and sigh- Wishing you could appear by the oceanfront;
I will mourn no more when you return from the exotic faraway place.
Further south and north, you depart. Tonight will be a tarnished night.
Veiling the shinning moon, the mass of mist rolls in off the sea;
Sorrowful, sorrowful, the vague moonlight ascends the riverside tree.
Copyright © Tang-Wei Wang | Year Posted 2016
Being an adult on Planet Earth
At its center I've been since Birth
The one place I've known and called home
It's virtues I've come to adore and uphold
And in adversity, I gaze in the unknown
Finding help I can't call my own
For I know that friends can be stars
And you reading this, are one to me!!!
Copyright © Wilfred Aniagyei | Year Posted 2013
You don't want to be
Looks can kill
Stab in the back
Don't look away
You might miss me
I'm your enemy
So just be aware
I'm hunting you
I'll find you
Count on it because
It's April Fool's Day! ;-)
Copyright © Kesha Mashaw | Year Posted 2009
To act a fool can help you see:
Much more that pools in these rough seas.
Watch that plain smile that lives in lack:
Yet stops a while to ease your slack.
A man by choice can act a fool:
Wear a still poise with eyes that drool.
A touch of fest if you must know:
May soothe the jest in abstract flow.
A wise man walks and seems a knave:
Yet what he talks can hide things grave.
A fool we know by style and tact:
May wear a glow that puzzles fact.
An April Fool can dwell on things:
Beyond what's cool in empty flings.
Heed the echoes of all you feel:
Sense deeper flow as fool reveals.
So take a hint to see the truth:
A fool can mint the wisest proof.
Go on your way to see more clear:
Judge not to slay a foolish cheer.
Wit can look bad upon the fool:
Sly can hide sad in crafty rule.
Be a wise fool and look silly:
Dread pollutes pool with harsh envy.
A silent fool can look most wise:
A kind footstool feeds fond surprise.
01 April 2015
Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2015
Tuesday train ride to nowhere near;
April Fool pride to laugh with cheer.
Midday trip far on NorthEast rail;
To fling ajar thoughts that unveil.
Through fourteen stops till end of track;
Then reverse hops till choice set back.
Explore the sights with curious eyes;
In wonder's flight with casual sighs.
So many views and vantage points;
Feel happy cues reach ends that join.
A tour by train to check things out;
Watch day retain a sunny shout.
Loiter and chill by this new mall;
A simple meal by food court stalls.
A quick repast to prime refill;
Too soon alas, to feed appeal.
Then once again to journey home;
To abode plains from whence we roam.
Sunset and dark bring fading light;
In time to spark our sitcom sights.
Soon we will start brief getaway;
Let mind and heart adjust to play.
03 Apr 2014
Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2014
nectar gathered by buzzing bees
cherry blossoms like popcorn trees
busy eyes suntan bikini pose
love breeze flows Spring shows
lovers move fast moments stall
chasing breath country clocks crawl
Copyright © Warner Baxter | Year Posted 2014
Cream colored tulips and satin red roses
intermix fluid in the garden.
One flower fades away as another takes it place,
like croci giving in to daffodils.
Marsh daisies and wild violets blend between the hosta
and minimize the scent full of lily of the valley.
A lone white iris bloomed today, stunting the green of others
holding high its flowered head above the may-apples.
At last the hint of peeking gladiolas rise,
red and pale green above the ground.
Yellow green eunonymus glow lime green in the sun
vibrant and colorful around the bark of an old broken oak.
Wild mustard rises and bloom in clumps
yielding dainty bouquets of delicate white florets.
With this early spring that lingers dry and warm
everything will bloom before its time.
Copyright © DM Babbit | Year Posted 2016
Daisies flare in April bloom
Springtime glares the placid moon
Life in vibrant color shines
The rainbow as it intertwines.
Such is the beauty of life's display
Awaiting the solemn approach of May
On the blue Jay's trail of twisted trill
As the taciturn night proclaims, be still.
Farther through the meadow's brook
The salmon wrestle the upstream nook
Crooked into the day's delight
As twilight sprinkles the stars of night.
As the oceans become the portrait blue
For love the painting resembles two
And life can carry often blind
The dreams of April intertwined.
With the touch of daisies upon the bloom
The fragrant mistress besets the croon
Oftentimes in genteel caress
The poets eyes see nothing less.
By: Darren J McMurray
April 6, 2011
Copyright © Darren J McMurray | Year Posted 2011