Sitting by her open window,
Was a girl deep in thought,
Lost within a book of Poe,
A perfect poem she sought.
With a curious eye,
He watches her pen,
For she gives it a try,
Every now and then.
He will visit her forevermore,
In silent hours of midnight,
Casting his shadow on her floor,
Within the full moonlight.
Mysterious, nocturnal bird,
Calling out to darkened land,
Speaking such wise word,
Which I cannot understand.
I am lonely, I must confess,
It's just you, me and the moon,
You are much like me, I guess,
So, please sing me another tune.
A messenger of death,
Wailing songs of a banshee,
Has my grim reaper cometh,
Was this warning meant for me?
My soul was projected,
In the shadow of a fowl,
A raven I had expected,
Not the silhouette of an owl!
I used to live beside the sea
It was not long ago
A footpath went along the beach
One could walk, and watch the show
As the ocean played its song of love
And the seagulls made much din
It was a lovely place to go
As each day, it did begin.
I loved it in the morning times
When the moon was big and round
It seemed to rest upon horizon
Such joy I often found
Admiring me, this yellow orb
That seemed so very huge
And as I’d walk, within my dreams
I’d often take refuge.
Sometimes I'd walk there, evenings too
And watch the sun go down
As the sky would turn to marmalade
And it seemed this Sphere would drown
As the ocean swallowed it all up
And the night came creeping in
And seagulls sang there evening songs
How I loved their noisy din.
There’s something about the mighty ocean
That makes me want to write
The seaweed and the salty breeze
Give me such sweet delight
I love the rivers, love the lakes
And yet the wild, wild sea
It has a treasure of it’s own
That just calls out to me.
5 November 2013 @ 0950hrs.
The elements of the heavens above
Where the birds go swaying and dipping down
And the clouds mist their way along the sky
There the dark sky shrouds the moon with a gown
In awe I spread my arms just to accept
The nature of the clouds and the cool air
Beams of white light coming out from the moon
Adds to the serenity that’s out there
I hold out my hand to receive a drop
A drop of dew from the heavens above
Tenderly I kiss it and fill my soul
Makes me want to fly with the birds I love
The highest point of the sky before space
Is where I end up, looking at the stars
No other beauty compares to this trip
I slowly fall back amongst the briars
I live meagerly here on this vast Earth
Then I fly again amongst the great clouds
I often go see with the birds up high
Joyously live my days with all that’s proud
This pen now wants some rest,
this mind is now tired a lot,
like a mute bird in its nest
no more song now,no more thoughts.
This mind is now tired a lot,
though the moon is in the sky
no more song now,no more thoughts,
no more words now,don't ask me why.
Though the moon is in the sky,
your eyes still so blue and deep,
no more words now,don't ask me why
give me a break now,let me sleep.
Your eyes still so blue and deep;
like a mute bird in its nest
give me a break now,let me sleep,
this pen now wants some rest.
©kash poet (kashinath karmakar)
Placement:2nd; January 2013
Contest:One to One (all monosyllable words)
PANTOUM--A rare form of poetry similar to a villanelle. It is composed of a series of quatrains; the second and fourth lines of each stanza are repeated as the first and third lines of the next. This pattern continues for any number of stanzas, except for the final stanza, which differs in the repeating pattern. The first and third lines of the last stanza are the second and fourth of the penultimate; the first line of the poem is the last line of the final stanza, and the third line of the first stanza is the second of the final. Ideally, the meaning of lines shifts when they are repeated although the words remain exactly the same: this can be done by shifting punctuation, punning, or simply recontextualizing.
It is strange
how things that we see
and take for granted
in everyday life
should suddenly instil
in our minds
a new awareness
of their presence
A silent moment
a brief pause
from life's ever quickening pace
a moment of peace -
in times like these
a common thing
like a dried old tree
becomes alive with beauty
It stands like a quiet sentinel
who has witnessed
many an event
Time has passed by
but it remains
silently standing there
What secrets do you store
in your noble branches?
How many events have you recorded
that man knows nothing of?
In your younger days
when you wore your mantle of green
you nested the carefree birds
to their offspring
you gave protection
When the sun scorched the earth
you gave them cool shade
On a cool windy night
you gave them warmth
How pleasant was their song
to your ear
as they sang a song of thanks
You were a playmate to the children
When they romped at your feet
or climbed on your branches
Time grew older
and the children became lovers
You saw them kiss in your shade
soft with the light of the moon
The aura of their love
touched your leaves
and you blushed
they have all gone away
but you still remain
still waiting and watching
How many untold events
have you witnessed
faithful keeper of secrets?
O that my soul could commune with you
and share of your rugged beauty!
Most Noble Tree!
forgive me for my
A gentile man of vivid dreams oft apt to walk at night
Followed where his feet would lead under the pale moon light
When chance he did into a grove of oak and alder trees
He spied a pool of nature's own fed by an ancient spring
There upon he cast his gaze beneath the moon so bright
And saw him something oddly fey revealed with second sight
At once belief that made him he who walked where others went
Faded in the mist of myth and planted there instead
A vision of a greater truth not seen, and yet perceived
From deep within the pool of being, liberation to receive
Reflections at the water's edge revealed his truest form
A life he's yet to realize, or a life he's lived before
For there upon this moon lit night, deep in that ancient wood
Where once there was an aging man an ageless raven stood
Twice born of myst, beneath the sky no longer bound by fear
He saw him casting off his flesh then soared into the air
He set his course by moon lit ways, a shadow taking flight
Till found he day light's brilliant rays that freed him from the night."
~Christopher Thor Britt
The Everything Halloween Poetry Contest
Before man, there was only twilight upon the earth. The earth was divided by two realms, realms, not kingdoms; one above the earth, the Sky, ruled by the birds. The other, the Land, upon the earth, ruled by the beasts.
In the sky, among the clouds, was a large pile of firewood. How it got there is unknown.
It is believed to be there as a resting place for birds not wanting to rest on land.
One twilight, an enormous eagle dove toward the land. His dive caused an emu on the land to panic, thinking it was being attacked, the emu jumped up and struck the eagle.
The eagle and the emu began a heated argument, then began to fight. The emu, in anger, plucked an eagle feather. The eagle, in its rage, swooped over to the emu nest, grabbing one of her huge eggs in its beak, soared skyward.
As the eagle climbed, he swung his head throwing the egg higher into the sky. The emu
screeched in horror as the egg smashed against the firewood. The yoke breaking, sparked, igniting the firewood, lighting up both realms of the earth.
Suddenly, the earth was bright and beautiful. All were dazzled, but soon relaxed, as the
fire begin to warm. The leader of the Sky saw the light and the warmth it produced as good.
He saw as the fire burned, it produced more heat and comforted all. It also began to
decrease the light and got cooler as the firewood went out. This was a bad thing, he
called all the birds together to gather firewood to keep the fire burning.
As the fire became coals, the light again returned to twilight and darkness.
The birds worked for hours to replenish the firewood.
As they began to pile wood upon the coals, the fire reignited. As the fire got bigger,
there was more light, and warmth.
When the birds had piled on all the wood gathered, the fire again began to decrease in
light and warmth.
Again each twilight, the birds would gather firewood for hours.
After an undetermined time, light and the darkness defined. As the earth warmed and became more beautiful, the realms became one.
The Spirit of the earth saw what the birds had done and what had become of the earth was good. He moved the fire outward from the earth and made it burn all the time.
He made the earth turn. Day and night were created. The birds and the beasts were one with the earth.
The spirit of the earth was pleased. He had created the heavens and the earth, reaching into the earth, he grabbed a handful of dirt in his hands, Smiling, saying all is good, He created Man.
That time of silence
It’s coming soon, that time of silence
When the birds pay their last call
They come to feed here from the seed trays
It’s a time so beautiful.
Cause all those sounds both loud and soft
Diminish into naught.
And cause such depth to touch my heart
To cut down all the thought.
There’s something about the dusk’s silence
That mesmerizes me
The mystery and the stillness
How wonderful it be
When the sky is blotched with clouds
Then the dusk is so unreal
Red to orange, fade to darkness
So sweet it makes me feel.
So just for now I’ll sit and wait
And watch the parrots eat
It’s not too long now till it’s here
This evening show so sweet
When once again the sun will sink
Into the mystic night
To let love touch my heart again
And give me sweet delight.
Questions for everyone
Has anybody ever sat?
In a garden filled with flowers
Have you felt the magic there?
Have you felt the power?
Have you sat there with the body still?
And the mind too, just the same?
Have you ever lost yourself?
As the mind stopped playing games
Have you seen those magic colours?
And really seen them too!
Have you felt the touch of the morning breeze?
Have you seen the way she do?
Touch those branches with her glory
Make them dance in the morning sun
As the sparkles nearly blow your mind
And you’re the holy one?
Have you ever heard the dove’s warm Coo
And that deep, deep ravens croak?
Have you seen the mulberry tree?
As she dons her summers coat?
And radiance and reverence
Are all that one can know
Have you ever sat there in the garden?
And watched the morning flow.
by the seashore
open your eyes
and you shall see more
of the world's magik
in front of your face
why oh why
would I ever replace
the memory of that foamy sea
crashing onto the shore
while the seagulls are laughing
with the children once more
who feed them with eyes full of wonder
to their curious delight
seashells from dead oysters
shine of the moon's pale sea light
as they mate like the birds and the bees
my sea kisses the sky when it rolls with the breeze.
i am not a bird whose black, for i am a blackbird
with my lumpy back turned away from her
the dying moon shadowing pale blue waters
made this blackbird teary
where as a bird who was black-they'd be dreary
but i felt the dying moon hover over my galaxy
i soared closer, for a pinch more
i am the last blackbird facing this mountain
in awe that her final thouqht towards me
she freed the sun for the sake
of the butterflies flyinq inside me?
Linked Verse ~
Spellbinding moon glow
Luster of radiance shines
Tree limbs vibration settles
As the wind blows through
As the wind blows through
Chimes jingle along the porch
Creating a tune
Creating a tune
Birdsong welcomes the morning
With tender crooning
With tender crooning
Harmony adjusts the air
Whistling fragrant bliss
July 23, 2014
©2014 by Regina Riddle
In the depths of midnight the sky shows off
That which plays within the glows of the moon
Harvest yellow casting down on the grass
Deep in my heart this hallowed soul has swoon
So shocked of this sight, the moon at midnight
Complete with its piece of the raven small
Proudly displayed this clearing beams tonight
And light of the moon fills this space for all
This tender light that shines on such a bird
Brings me in awe and bewilderment fast
I thank the Lord for all his blessings shown
This well-manicured spot found at long last
The last piece of this romance inspired thought
Is her presence, what’s written on a scroll
No harvest moon and no midnight raven
Can take place of the treasure of my soul
Contest: Treasures Of Your Soul
Sponsor: Gail Angel Doyle
There once was a whole bunch of clouds
Clouds are not very loud
If you fly through them in a plane
They feel no pain
That’s why they’re clouds