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Quatrain Imagination Poems | Quatrain Poems About Imagination

These Quatrain Imagination poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Imagination. These are the best examples of Quatrain Imagination poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Heritage

The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.

Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.

I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.

Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009

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A NOOK AND A STORYBOOK




While resting in my nook, breaths grip
As lampshade marks edges of leaves;
That  I wander into the scene
On pages afloat, a tale weaves .
Listening to my restless sighs,
The hero wins a maiden fair
Under the  rim of  jeweled clouds…
Yet  one dark villain lurks, beware!

Though moonlight hides its varnished face
My eyes  pursue this  raging quest;
And though caught in flamed paradise
Late hour ushers a sleep’s request .
Tucking the book, whispers I hear
Unto rivers of my vivid dream,
Awaiting for morn to touch its ray
To finish lines from a tale, supreme.


Contest: "What I Would Give For A Nook And A Storybook"
Sponsor: Eve Roper

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

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Smiling Spitting Deadly Sins

Smiling Spitting Deadly Sins

Son of the Devil evil and twisted when his mask falls away
Through the curtains of death he turns truth into dark lies
With horrible shadows haunting over Love's light so pure
As jealousy reveals shades of a Soul’s envy at this moment

Cunningly you crawl behind colors pride with selfish hurting
Innocence casting stones—the fruits of a hideous lurking evil
Filling you with stupid silly emotions crying crocodile tears
Hate is your playground game as the Dark One takes his souls

Weeping from the deep wounds inflicted on others at your wish
While fighting one lost battle as your words burn from the ugly
Fork of your tongue while spitting venom they become a vile
Poison in which every last drop makes one’s very skin crawl

When I see the light of truth awakening in your Soul’s eyes
I really see a Hell-Fire scorching red hot who is the real you
Your pretty tongue of thy father speaks the evil words of the 
King of Lies to my heart as it is touched by the serpent’s rasp

Yet ever you can never always hide behind this perfidious mask 
And such words of beauty will not always hide what lies within 
The darkest outreaches of your Soul’s descent into damnation
For Love itself is a journey of the gentle divine and the innocent

But those who breathe the Hell-Fire can only fool us all so long
And when their mask falls away they speak with a serpent’s tongue
So vile and gruesome that they know not of Love as they strike and
Bring eternal pain holding the Devil’s sword with their blackened hand

Causing pain with greatest relish as they laugh heartily at the pain
Inflicted on others not really knowing what they hold in their hand
In hate and anger while striking out at all innocent souls as their
Double-edged sword waits for those from the depths of Hell itself

Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 9, 2015 (Unrhymed Quatrain)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

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SELF-GRATIFICATION IS THE FRIUT OF ONE'S LOVE

Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love,
making the artist's delighted face glow...
when every vision has been achieved,
and each intention joyfully revealed.


He will envision the shape and colors,
then transfer those images to canvas;
and with the gentles strokes of his brush...
real faces will appear and suddenly blush.


Thinker and dreamer, let passion and imagination flow,
don't be distracted by worries or external sounds below;
work diligently with your brush, transcending your own credibility...
but later, it would be too hilarious to scream out your insanity.


Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love...
that enduring, timeless legacy hard to ignore;
when others show admiration, you'll be so pleased
and motivated to add more laurels to your prestige.     


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

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She Danced

The flowers danced within the breeze
The music box dancer danced with ease
She danced and danced within his heart
For he loved her from the very start

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

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Mystic Tinklings

                   Mystic Tinklings


Mystic tinklings
	Ancient echoes from the past
Fleeting inklings
	Glimmer just beyond your grasp

Phantom footfalls
	When you know that you’re alone
Echoed choircalls
	Of a long forgotten song

Shadows slipway
	From the corners of your eye
Darkened hallways
	Hints of time passed by

Brief reflections
	Of things you did not see
Vast collections
	Of the things that used to be

Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010

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My Sister Is An Alien!

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

Her mind control crying
Gets her anything she wants
I say "That's not fair!"
But she just looks at me and taunts

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

It's just a disguise
I'm on to her
Is she scaly
Or covered in fur

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

She's spying on us
They 're ready to invade
So don't just be frightened
Be very afraid!

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!


She knows I'm on to her
She's calling for friends
So run for your life
And hide till it ends

Copyright © James Heseltine | Year Posted 2005

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My Little Box

Sometimes, when I am alone
I go inside myself
and I get a little box
I keep upon a shelf.

My box is filled with memories,
sweet days that I once knew.
One of my greatest treasures
is the memory of you.

Time has begun to fade it
and has bent the corners in
yet when I gaze upon it,
it comes alive again.

I let it take me over
I ride it like a wave
feeling every inch of love
you once, so sweetly gave.

It fills my soul with pleasure
and helps me get away
from all the tribulations
that I must face each day.

Yet it was not always beautiful,
this memory I hold.
It use to only give me pain
and leave me feeling cold.

But so much time has passed away
and the pain has took its' leave
so now I may finally
enjoy instead of grieve.

Once it has embraced me
and filled me with its' wealth
I put it gently in my box
and place it on the shelf.

I'll always keep this precious jewel
with tender, loving care
so that when I need it,
it will be waiting there.

Copyright © Robin L. Gass | Year Posted 2008

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Lovers Utopia

Magical crescent moon
Shining on the path below
Lighting the way for lovers
Together as they stroll

Exploring the enchantment
Of the animals and the trees
Finding their own Utopia
Beneath natures canopy

Together they may hear
A love birds sweet melody
As the crickets and a bullfrog
Seem to join in harmony

Sparkling stars and dewdrops
Fireflies dance about merrily
As winds song within the leaves
Plays a lovers symphony

The smell of jasmine in the air
Rose and chamomile so sweet
With just a soft hint of patchouli
A lovers perfume as they meet

The mystery and excitement
Passionate kisses, perfect date
These two lovers souls connect 
In this mesmerizing place 



Copyright © Lena Townsend | Year Posted 2009

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In My Vibrant Dream

*Past silver groves of willows weeping near a crystal stream, I move with an excitement flowing in my vibrant dream. Those colors that I take for granted in the concrete world shine brilliantly like buds of roses that have come unfurled. Ahead there is a field of daisies - wild yellow in bloom. I’m feeling golden; such enchantment whisks away all gloom. Atop a hill as bright a green as Ireland’s emerald isle - as day’s last rays of sun shine down - is where I’ll stay a while. Inside my dream appears white parchment; in my hand a quill! Across the sky there splashes splendor; all the earth grows still. A white swan’s feather now dips into ink a cobalt blue. As sky bursts crimson, I am painting all this dream for you! *Past silver groves of willows weeping is a line I borrowed from Heather Ober's "Into the Gloaming" Written by Andrea Dietrich For Richard Lamoureux's Pick a Line Any Line Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013

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Shades Of Grape

Black edges a turquoise horizon,
inking silhouettes a cobalt blue.
And shining stars, like twinkling candles,
faintly flicker in and out of view.

Color escapes from night’s dark abyss,
as shadows reborn are given shape.
And sunbeams gild the rim of the earth,
distilling reds into shades of grape.

Sound is suspended, all is silent,
a magical time, before birds fly.
Magenta clouds share shades of crimson,
imbued with fire that ignites the sky.

A birthing sun ascends from the east,
its brilliance engulfing all of space.
Daylight reclaims territories lost,
and night vanishes, without a trace.


Written Jan 7th, 2016 for the contest, Any Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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The Owl and the PusyCat Sail

Together the Owl and the PusyCat were married
Then again sailed out over the deep blue seas
Searching forever for the great Land of Nod,
To the place where they could find true peace.
True peace, true peace… Where they could find true peace.

The love that twined forever within their hearts
They sought throughout all the wonderous lands
Going to the place where they would live in peace,
A place where true peace, rules and lives in the hearts of the land.
The land, the land… Where true peace lives in the heart of the land.

Alas, the love of the heart, though truly not easy to find…
Is easier to find than the love of peace, found throughout the land.
So it’s said they will continue to sail, until that day comes true,
And when they land for the final time, will be up to me and you.
Me and you, me and you… That day will be up to me and you.


Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012

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In A Perfect World

If we lived in a perfect world,
happiness and love would abound.
And in this utopic dreamworld,
there would be no hate to be found.

Peace and brotherhood would flourish, 
in an idealistic dream.
And we'd all help nature nourish, 
every ocean, river and stream. 

We would all live in paradise,
a virtual heaven on Earth.
And from orchids to edelweiss,
flowers would encircle Earth's girth.

All diseases would disappear,
and no one would die of hunger.
And there would be less fears and tears,
for we’d live forever younger.

But alas, it isn't that way,
disease and cruelty exist.
And starvation is here to stay,
while warfare and famine persist.

	
Written Feb. 9th , 2016 for "In A Perfect World - Poetry Contest."

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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My Poetic Gun

I’m a poetic gun;
Shells of great caliber.
I measure each poem,
With my trusty caliper.

I load my own rounds,
Thoughts are the primer.
The powder’s my inspiration;
I’m a quick draw rhymer. 

With my cylinder loaded,
I’m ready to take aim.
Shooting poems into existence,
Into life’s open range.

In the heart of the prairie,
An outlaw poetic spree begun.
Shooting rounds onto the page,
From my poetic gun.

Copyright © Raul Moreno | Year Posted 2009

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More Than A Clown

I don’t want to play any more,
it's time to put away my mask.
And though people still need to laugh,
I'm simply not up to the task.

My act is not very funny,
and will probably be my last.
For like the white face that I wear,
I’m just a relic of the past.

I find it hard to paint a smile,
on top of a permanent frown.
And yet in costume I'm expected
to quickly flip frowns upside-down.

It has been a long time coming,
but I need to rethink my dream.
And try my hand at something else,
less emotionally extreme.

When I look into a mirror,
I want to see more than a clown.
So if someone asks what I do,
it'll no longer bring me down.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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Raindrops Fall

Raindrops now escape the clouds
and downwards they do fly.
Earthbound now their journey starts,
set free from blackened sky.

Let loose they dance upon the ground
and skip as if at play,
a melody they seem to hum,
music, natures way.

Into rivers, brooks and streams
each raindrop heads like home,
and over waterfalls they rush,
into oceans seek to roam.

They call to clouds for brethren rain
to fall and learn to fly,
to start a journey homeward bound,
and escape their blackened sky.


For PD's contest 'Best rain poem'
8th place

Copyright © Emma Mantle | Year Posted 2011

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Part of Me

There's a part of me that still lives on the water
A part of me that you can never keep
Tears fill my eyes as I dream  of the ocean
I see that island paradise in my sleep

My fishing boat lies sleeping in the harbor
Anchor weighing heavy on the ocean floor
I still miss all those nights at sea
My fishing boat will sail again no more

This was the life that I had chosen
From one port to another I would roam
Never stayed long enough to be familiar
Never knew a place I could call home

Sometimes I walk along the shoreline
Listening to her song out on the sea
That's when I know that someday I'll be leaving
The song she's singing is calling me

There is something magical in a night at sea
There's a million stars hanging all around
Untold stories lying behind me
New horizons yet to be found

Now that my sailing days are over
And my life is shifting gears
I can still resurrect those memories
When I taste the salt in my tears.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2006

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A NOOK AND A STORY BOOK

Words spring out from under the cover Lets delve together into a world A place of magic like no other Where imaginations are unfurled A tale of fantasy and fun Where bubblegum trees touch the sky Animals talk when out in the sun And purple elephants can fly We picture the scenes in our mind’s eye Let our creativity go wild Floating freely like a butterfly Precious time for a mother and child Contest A Nook and a story Book. Sponsor Eve Roper 04 ~17 ~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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The Gift Of This Eve

One enchanted evening
lead by Her golden moon,
Luna's light guided me
to a secret lagoon.

Anchored in the shallows
I waded to the shore,
evoking the magic
that will open love's door.

For in this sea of gold
buffed to a mirror sheen,
frolics the sexiest 
mermaid I’ve ever seen.

She flaunts ebony hair
befitting any Queen, 
offset by a sweeping
tail of aquamarine.

Under a full March moon
she steps from fantasy,
emerging from the sea
to make sweet love to me.

Yet, before Sol rises
She will quietly leave,
so I must be content
with the gift of this eve.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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A Nook And A Storybook

A Nook and a Storybook


What would I give for a nook and a book
to cuddle and snuggle and longingly look
the pages unfolding as I listened to
the comforting song of a fast flowing brook.

Oh, if it had pictures, a faraway place,
mysterious villains, a dark alley chase
I’d pick up the phone and I’d call in sick
disappear in the mist, leave not a trace.

What would I do to be captured by words
impressed into service by pirates with swords,
adrift without wind, current silently slow
half crazed crew pacing the sun-baked dried boards.

Perhaps of an evening a stroll on the beach
salt, surf, and moonlight on ebony skin
passion full sated on cooling hard sand
last dream of the shanghaied seagoing men.

What would I give for a storybook nook
I’d offer it all the time that it took
to take me away to wherever it would
leave me enraptured by a murmuring brook.


4/15/2016

submitted to – What I Would Give For A Nook And A Storybook – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Eve Roper


 

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2016

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A Dark Tale

I laugh as I think of it now, the dire warnings of hell
Nothing could scare me it didn’t matter, on this teaching I never did dwell.
I wondered why one dark night, again begging for sleep.
No fear of death of dying no foolish promises to keep.

It was then I found the answer as I slipped down through the floor
Could this be a dream or am I now no more.
Has death come upon me, I feel the air exude from my chest
Through eons of time yet seconds, maybe days or years at best.

Before me an evil thing but there are no brimstone and flames
“Now we will see this hell you mocked and you will know my name.
You never flinched about the hell threat but you are now here
Not only that I am your father and now you will know real fear.”

He breathed in deep; my skin scorched, it left my body in one piece
The agonies, I must be dead my skin floating in front just like a fleece
My muscles sinews and skeleton were all that I now had
“I thought you were my father I screamed you can’t treat me this bad.”

A thousand legions of devils all came round mocking me
Each breath they turned my way seemed to rip parts off of me
“You will learn to master them but until then you have to pay
You start at the bottom in this work.” then the hounds of hell did bay.

“To inflict the tortures required to give me the satisfaction
You must first suffer them all, that is my attraction.
When you have suffered them all you will know what to do
My work will be in your hands this is my legacy to you.”

“But how can you be my father?” I screamed as the hell hounds tore at me
“My mother was the sweetest woman on earth and all around could see.”
“Ha! I am the devil why would I want a whore,
 They are already down here; it was sweetness I searched for.”

“Your mother scorned me, she did not believe in all the hellish games I play
So I showed her my powers and you are with me from this day.
You should have listened to the teachers teaching of my home called hell.”
He waved his finger at me and the screams I could not quell.

Now I wish I had listened and taken an earthly fear
It could have made a difference, I may not now be here.
I take delight in dismembering and gouging out the eyes
Flaying the skin off the ungodly, yet I do it for a prize.

One day I will rule this place then my turn will come
I’ll leave this underworld one day and do what my father has done
I’ll take a woman for my wife the sweetest there ever walked
And pass on my inheritance to the offspring that hell balked.
©~GG~23/07/2012

 

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012

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Tomorrow

Tomorrow is a promise made that was never meant to be
Tomorrow is a dream come true that only we can see
Tomorrow is the time we plan to spread our wings and fly
If we don't take those first steps now, our dreams will pass us by.

Tomorrow is the day  when we start our lives anew
Tomorrow is the time when all the skies turn blue
Tomorrow is the reason that we hang onto our dreams
We need to start today to reach those goals it seems.

Tomorrow is a fleeting moment when our world comes all apart
Tomorrow is a passing glance as we give away our heart
Tomorrow is a triumph as we begin to touch the sky
If we keep waiting for tomorrow we should hang our heads and cry.

Tomorrow is the horizon as the sun sinks into the sea
Tomorrow is the time when all our people will be free
Tomorrow is the day when we come charging from the gate
But tomorrow never comes for those who only sit and wait.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2006

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Soaring

Have you ever imagined the feeling 
Of soaring up over the clouds 
With only the breeze between you and the earth 
Away from the bustling crowds? 
  
With occasional sound of the fiery blast 
That helps keep your airship afloat 
A peaceful and heavenly solitude 
As you sail this celestial boat 
  
Imagine the total serenity 
As you take in the breathtaking view 
Corn fields that go on forever 
Mountains that reach for the blue 
  
Riding on currents and sunbeams 
A feeling takes hold of your soul 
As you drift over streams and babbling brooks 
Your at peace with the world, you are whole

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2012

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Little Song Bird

Little song bird in my tree
singing your sweet song for me
singing sweetly, singing clear
your song, it fills me with good cheer.

Little song bird sing your song
with all my heart I'll sing along.
A gift from God you grace the earth
there is no measure to your worth.

Little song bird, wild and free
when you leave, will you take me?
Together we could soar so high
across the endless, azure sky.

Little song bird, singing high above
your song, it fills my heart with love.
little song bird in my tree
with your song you set me free.

Copyright © Robin L. Gass | Year Posted 2009

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THE CONTEST WINNER

I have entered many poetry contests
to display my best...an amazing number of sixty or more,
only one of my poems has won first place;
poets are like enduring athletes who fight to the very core! 
 

One big hurray goes to myself for the first win,
congratulations to the other participants
who are on the top of that list, or have been
awarded Honorable Mentions for their efforts!  


When my poem doesn't make it to the finalists's list,
I don't feel discouraged, I brazen out the doubt and try again;
even Lance Armstrong, with his skills, can't always win his race,
and the trophy must be given to someone else!


I rejoice when some of the chosen poets appear 
on the winners' list; I am happy for their accomplishment,
and into a word-restricted message's box I gladly comment
on their poetry...with the insight of an achiever!


And for those whose names never made it as previously thought,
I honestly tell you, from experience, not to be a bit discouraged...
your time will come when your enthusiasm will require a big shout;
never put the word, " Winner " to rest, write for fun and persist instead! 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

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Butterflies and Silver Seas

Jump into pistachio talc
and fly on mists a'sparkle
Dripping off me is butterfly dust
Stand up and you can follow
Dive off the chair you sit in
to streams filled thick with cider
Nap on webs of candied cotton
strung strong by the sugar spider
Open your eyes under water
Catch up with me high in flight
Tether your wings to the sea horse's daughter
as she swims in the moon beams at nights
Sullied clouds fall past the ocean
sleeping on silver tide's arm
Drowsy me now from this butterfly potion
sleeping in ribbons and lavender charm
Imagine the ocean alive
with flutters of wings on the tide
Strip all your preconceived notions
and watch with your eyes open wide
Glisten in green innuendos
Sparkle and shake out your wings
I'm a whisper of water, a glint of delight
taking flight on the brink of impossible things...

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005

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BLUE ROSES AND CHOCOLATES

Blue roses and chocolates have been lying there,
untouched and unopen over three days now, 
sadly turning rejection into endless despair;
even light struggles to filter through the closed window...



My gifts aren't appreciated, or even remembered,
and I am torn apart by disbelief and tremor:
with the empitiest feeling ever contemplated;
my disappointed sweetheart expected more...



Perhaps a bracelet or necklace with dazzling diamonds,
would have made her definetely happy like any circus' clown;
if love lusts after material and insignificant things,  
it has no sentimental value in itself, only a monetary one...



Uncaring and silent, with a blank and wandering look that
disfigures the divine face I admired and worshiped always,
my embittered darling is overwhelmed with vanity, touching her neck;
sensing visions of glamour and imagining the feel of sapphires... 
 


Everything I gave her was given out of kindness,
and my blue roses and chocolates should be a gift 
of the kindest of souls offering the simplest things;
and isn't her greed more implacable than a sullen sky full of rage?      


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

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How to Build a Spaceship..

How to build a spaceship


A large cardboard box,
Massive amount of tape.
10 toilet paper rolls…
It’s beginning to take shape.

A creative little mind,
Crayons of every hue.
Help with little scissors,
Grandma, pass the glue.

Imagination going wild..
That’s what yields the fuel.
Our spaceship ready to depart,
Fun the only steadfast rule.

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2009

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The Lonely Poet

Paste on your passion smile
Crisp all your words
as you settle yourself 
to be self-consumed, heard
Whisper sweet nothings
which only you know
Don't stop the banter,
the words or the flow
You've reached the summit
of the loneliest point
You're king of the vacancy
best in the joint
Write all your poems
on the back of your hand
and read them at supper
of cream pie and sand
Your siblings will stand up
and whisper applause
You've felt all emotion
and ridden all stars
They bid you good-bye
for you're out of their league
and to think you just wanted
to be heard, succeed...

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005

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Fireside Conversation

Unravel your ego
sit down for a spell
Let the cool green glass
of deception dispel
Wind all your hair 
'round the wheel and dissolve
Tell me your story
and we'll be involved
You will be captain
and I your first mate
in the skies of forgiveness
pop bubbles of hate
We'll write out our names
with invisible ink
and laugh 'till we hadn't 
a thought left to think
Sipping hot cocoa
'round fires of trust
we'll bandage depression
with cider and rust
and blow concentration
'till wishes ensue
and glisten in glass 
like reflections of you

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005