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Epic Seasons Poems | Epic Poems About Seasons

These Epic Seasons poems are examples of Epic poems about Seasons. These are the best examples of Epic Seasons poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Alliteration | |

The Forest

"What falls out in the forest stays in the forest"

The tree is trimmed, 
Proposing passion, protecting sweet sweat
Naked with nothing to bear or wear
Nature's breath lightens the atmosphere
She breathes in, he breathes out
The sound of rain drumming down deepens
Every form is near its end, 
Deep in this forest night
A Gentleman among the trees, 
Hibernating new seeds 

"On the other side of the forest"
He guides my path, with ebony eyes
A convincing vent, I swallow
The fear is broken, I sleep in glee
The whispers disappear 
Dying in peace by the secret bayou 
Broad leaves lay under raw landscape
Stilled by the chills he quills
A quarter past midnight 
Mr Romantic prepares my sheets of Winter

Contest: "Write Me A Winter Poem"

Copyright © SKAT A

Details | Epic | |

The Fall of The Winter King

The Fall of The Winter King    

He had risen to power
fueled by a vicious and ruthless determination
to reclaim a lost throne.

His tactics had stunned the unsuspecting,
laid barren the fields,
blanketed the forest,
silenced the sounds of life itself.

A dictator, seeking no counsel,
accepting no offers of surrender,
driven by the desire to destroy
the kingdom that had usurped his throne.

Rumors spread of a daring bud – sprouting -
a tune hummed by the imprisoned trees
adrift on the whipping winds of war
in defiance of the heartless king.
A call to arms sounded
by the most gentle, the most delicate.

The first acts of open rebellion,
The resounding crack of the ice jamb
the aching roar of the river’s rage
surging over its banks
awakening those still held captive.

Slowly the insurrection took root
buds gathered in hidden clusters,
trees quietly bloomed
muffling the screeching gales,
offering safety to bands of rebels.
Flocks of warblers met -
feathered archers - hurling their
darting arrows against the glare
of a cold king’s horror.

Sweet grasses spread across
the brown, despoiled fields -
a verdant gauntlet tossed in the face of dread.
Flowers crept from thawing dungeons
waving their colors,
swarms of banished pollinators
followed the call to duty.

The ebb and flow of battle -
frosted retreats,
clandestine sunrise maneuvers.
The resurgence of heart,
the growing hope of warmth.

As memory of the chilled repression
faded preparation was made
to receive the beauty and bounty
of a new and peaceful King. 

John G. Lawless

For SKAT’s Winter’s End – Poetry Contest

Copyright © John lawless

Details | Epic | |

Pledge of love and loyalty

This pledge that l,Ntando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed l am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only lie
in word alone but in action as well.

For that reason in every season
I shall show steadfast commitment
to the implementation of this pledge
with a great deal of astuteness.
I therefore commit myself to be your
devoted and delivering husband for
all the years l shall live with you
on this earth.

I shall treat you with the love and care
you deserve as my wife.
Indeed l shall treat you with
the distinction and dignity
that is befitting of the queen of my heart.
That body, that bone, that breath
shall be my mine to treasure,
for sure;
a dearness to promote and protect
for dear life…and love!
I shall stand by and with you in all the
situations of our life.
If the situation demands that we sail,
sail we shall together.
If the situation demands that we
climb we shall together.

I know very well what l am getting into:
I am getting into a marriage that is
overflowing with blessings.
This marriage- with our mutual
will stand the test of time.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
brims over with a transforming power
of love.

This marriage-with our
mutual commitment –
will transform naivety into maturity
troubles into challenges
pretence into practice
pride into progress
bachelorship into companionship.
I pledge to be your steward and partner
for all times.

I shall value the consultations
and decisions that we make as
husband and wife.
As head of the family I shall do nothing


to derail our love train for anything else
least of all for personal and selfish reasons.
Now and forever

I am your lawful and loving husband…
This pledge that l, Nothando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed I am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only
lie in pronouncements but in practice
as well.

For this reason every season
I shall demonstrate untiring love
and loyalty to you;
a love and a loyalty that is a living
embodiment of our marriage vows.
I therefore commit myself to be your
honouring, supportive and loving wife
for all the years l shall live with you.
I shall treat you with the love and care
that you deserve as my husband.
Indeed I shall treat you with
the dignity and nobility that is befitting
of the king of my heart.
On my mind it is always fresh
that I am the flesh of your flesh.
Green or grown

I am the bone of your bone.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
elevates me into a kingdom of wifehood.
I shall endevour to put my family first
with all the rights, obligations
and privileges that come with wifehood.
I shall endevour to wipe off and ward off
loneliness and lostness from our relationship,
seeking nothing but your companionship;
banking on your stewardship,
sinking together any hardship.
Since you are mine
I shall not do anything else to undermine
our relationship for personal
or egotistical
Now and forever
I am your lawful and loving wife…

Copyright © Ndaba Sibanda

Details | Free verse | |

A walk with me

Waves crash the rocks in ecstasy
as I pass the archway 
to the sea.
Onwards to the village, 
busy cafes,
the aroma of coffee brewing,
as a power of teens gather, texting.
I venture down 
a chestnut lined road
under a canopy 
of Copper Beech
where bright shafts of sun
illuminate a lane of lavender 
a sea of perfume
wafts the air.
Climbing an incline, 
hills in view,
the distant sobbing
of water sounds
a trickling brook emerges
ambling through magenta heather
and thorny gorse.

I reach a stile, 
entrance to the woods
where a carpet 
of frosted red cyclamen 
bleeds down to a deep dark glen.
A chicory lake lies there, frozen
as a mist uncurls between reeds.
The granite hills,
 soft with snow,
luminous against a whale grey sky.
A copse of pine trees
surround a curving river
where trout pout, bubbling.
At the fold of day, 
returning hom
The pale sun sinks the horizon
as stars tremble
into a velvet night

Copyright © Eiken Laan

Details | Rhyme | |

The Winds of the Night

The winds of the night creep in on you and they are up and about.
They surround you in the darkness and shed you into some light.
They are given and they are taken with your most silent thoughts.
They pass through your hidden fears and come from plain sight.
The winds of the night so clever and discreet they really are.
They hold no boundaries to your beginning and nor to your end.
They are warm and they are cold rising above you and reaching up from far.
They are of their own power and hold onto all claims of their own.
The winds of the night come sending a message to the unknown.
The winds of the night are aimless but when directed they drift all together.
They are dangerous when calm at night a sight not even one has really seen.
They are unsettled with no balance yet predictable by where they all concur.
They capture what is felt and heard because they’re accepted as they’re deemed.
The winds of the night come and go for they are on a lifelong mission.
They are silent within your journey for they can not be spoken to or touched.
They exist for your life bringing the world into its final rule on deception.
The winds of the night carry enough strength to lead a massive world into the unjust!

Copyright © Ann Rich

Details | List | |


North Star

Copyright © Courtney Courtney

Details | Rhyme | |

The Day My Uncle Died

The Day My Uncle Died...

I was thinking about the smile on my uncle’s face….
This was a before he would “leave this place."

I'll never forget the words shortly before he died.
The more I thought about it, the more I cried.

He said, "you know Jimmy I wish I got to know you better."
I never received another phone
 call or even a letter.

A few days later he was ready to go to a funeral.
But it was also him who received a burial.

I was shocked and amazed as to what happened.
The events took place. There was no way
 I could "stop them."

Memories I had were from many years ago.
I often think about him.    And I do miss him so!

I suppose many don't take the time to realize...
How quickly life passes... 
Then someone dies.

Perhaps there's someone in your
 life you can think of…
There's been a situation that you're
embarrassed to "speak of/"

A harsh word said, and angry thought was spoken.
And soon your relationship has been "broken."

This may be a good time with this person to spend.
Irregardless if they're what you'd call a "friend."

Everyone is important to God who reigns above.
We need to be filled with his mercy and love.

The person you haven't seen shall one day disappear...
The days are short...  Our journey's end is so near!

May God speak to our heart and help us to see...
Where will you and I be spending our eternity???

By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Blank verse | |

Gentle Ripples Passing - Lake Kariba

Water lapping at edge of the boat beneath the silence of the sky
Swaying branches of mopane trees and fish eagles cry
Wind of changing seasons and melting palates of hue
in the blood red sunset glow and murky silvery water blue

Elephants in numbers dot the shores
hippo’s and crocodiles are at the core 
of many memories and visions of old 
Lake Kariba, in land sea 
full of tiger fish and bream

The endless blue that roles into the distance
where the sun rises and falls in panoramic vista
The skeletons of petrified monuments scattered in the sea
forests of pre historic trees swaying in the breeze

It wasn’t always peaceful, tranquil, and still
nature has no chance to relax and withdraw
Scheming and dreaming in the depths of men’s mind

Up Up Up goes the building and climbs
Man made dam, Damn big problem
How could this feet of engineering the power of ages old be so easy
to tame such a wild beast as the zambezi




Animals and people lost in the rising tide
from river, to dam, to lake to inland sea
Great and panoramic became the horizon wide

Like a whisper on the edge of wind 
was a grand concert of ages gone by 
Played out by wildlife, land, water, and sky

A harmonic existence of sublime serenity
Life here brings closure to one’s perspective
the sent of dust and adventure is quiet infective 

The place of the skeleton trees, mountain passes, and copper sun still
where the stars in the universe, scatterings like lost thoughts, visions, and chants chill
across the forging path, that strides through this african wilderness blue
Lake Kariba, the artery of the north, run straight, run true.


Copyright © Tim Marks

Details | Epic | |

Change Of Seasons

The earth slips into a deep sleep
all beneath its surface now dormant
sleepy animals curled up in their dens
soon to fall into the sleep of hibernation
all now slowed down awaiting the snows
trees now denude of their canopy of leaves

Jack Frost comes creeping with icy fingers
covering everything in stark bright white
hoar frost, branches sparkling with icicles
softly, come the first snows just a sprinkle
a promise of more, laden sullen skies above
in the morning, a world of brilliant white

Fresh and crisp unmarked by human tracks
just the odd three toed marks of birds
deer trails pass through so distinct
the flash of colour from Red Robin's beast
drifts of snow, some very deep lie in wait
for unwary travelers tempting with beauty 

Slowly, oh so slowly the thaw arrives
everywhere a-run with water trickling
now appears the odd patch of faded green
Winter releases her hold with reluctance
fighting to the end, then slips away
leaving Spring to awaken the land with warmth

Now the birds are busy, gathering the twigs
also moss and feathers with some sheep's wool
busily building nests all shapes and sizes
the males preening and showing off to hens
fighting for the rights of lady and territory
the winner, the one who's chicks will be born

Leaves unfurling on the trees reaching out 
sun bathed they quickly grow and bush up
to give shelter to birds and tender plants 
bulbs now pushing up snowdrops appearing
followed by gay crocus and waving daffodil
finally come the roses, tulips and lupines

All now a splash with colour gleaming in the sun
Summer has arrived with her hot sultry heat
languidly the breezes flow over the landscape
an earth that is now ablaze with vibrant greens
emerald vieing with turquoise, lime and pea green
scarlet beside pink and red, a vision of beauty
pure white of daisies and yellow petals of roses

Too soon, far too soon slowly the nights lengthen
a chill is felt in the air as daylight fades away
leaves start to turn to various shades of brown
then giving up their grip are carried by the wind
plump apples fill the orchards they taste so sweet
corn and other crops are now ready for the harvest

Bare trees now greet us as the days shorten quickly
Autumn drifts gently in, time to light the log fires
to tuck one's self up with a book and mug of cocoa
ponder on the year gone by, the highs and the lows
the cycle of seasons complete for yet another year 
life reaffirmed and ready to face whatever is ahead

written 11/26/2013 by Shadow Hamilton
contest Impress me sponsor Giorgio
I went with epic motif

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton

Details | Rhyme | |

I Hate Aunt Floe

NOTE: This poem is a humoruos stab at PMS from a mans point of view

I can see your blood boiling
through  the blades I once called eyes,
they were once beautiful  like jewels
now they hurt my deep insides.
cutting at my guts
and like a noose on my  lungs;
your words seek like bullets 
your mouth like sniper guns.
I’m hit with each inaccuracy…
Being killed by words untrue;
and you even got the nerve
to tell me what you think I do.
But let me get mad
and try to plead my case;
then suddenly the world
is a f--ked up place.
You got tears running down…
What the Hell did I do?
We were just sitting and laughing
I could swear that we were cool.
Oh God…
Oh no…;
I should have seen it… 
It’s Aunt Floe…,
This battle can’t be won or reasoned
I think its best I go.
Cause I hate Aunt Floe 
and she hate me too;
she sit and talk sh-t
about the gum I chew. 
The color of my shirt…,
She say my look is a stair;
She say my best has no worth
And she doesn’t stop there.
I didn’t change
I’ve been the same 
these 28 days,
 but now I’m f_ckin A__hole 
Aunt Floe gave me that name.  
She said get out my face 
This aint your home no more,
But I’m more puzzled by 
What was said before.
I love you 
With her glossy eyes 
I knew it was true, 
But horribly sly
You see these words
make me the fool.
The one that’s cruel
That a__hole dude,
That sparked the fuel
To this f__kin feud.
But I swear to God
I didn’t start this sh_t,
Why would I give up my love 
To live my life like in a pit.
 This is horrible sh_t 
Wasted days spent,
On nothing but the worst
I could be bathed in your sent. 
You could be laughing 
While I’m smiling
But Aunt Floe Won’t let this be,
And the only way to make this right
Is hold my tongue  a week.
And that ain’t gone happen 
I’m a person too,
Not soft
But I got feelins
and don’t know what  to do.
Now its been six days
Unbelievable  rage,
She locked herself 
In the room
I call it her cage.
I smell a sent in the air
It wasn’t there before,
Now lookin down the hall
I see an open door.
Is this a trap 
I’ll guess I’ll see,
If I fall for another
 You know that’s dumb ass me.
Curled in the bed 
I think I know that girl,
But where’s the hells Aunt Floe
The one that f__ked my world.
She packed up and gone
Didn’t even say good bye,
Just came wit gang of bullsh_t
And vanished in the sky.
Is that you my dear
Can you please come here,
Listen close and crystal clear…
I hate Aunt Floe
 Next time she here
Make sure I’m stocked
with weed and beer.
I love you punk.  ?

Copyright © Anthony Thomas

Details | Rhyme | |

The Sleeping Giant

<                 the sleeping giant once again has been awoke
                   to the sounds of great thunder and billows of smoke
                   what has happened his imperial's majesty's sleep
                   out from the depts of hell a great wavetrain has creeped

                   tainting soil where once land had been so enriched
                   brandishing homes businesses left them in a ditch
                   twisted metals dancing in swirls of stenching air
                   recovered bodies of beloved this is so unfair

                   across it's great mountain range somber is now heard
                   unity becomes one and not forgotten word
                   rebuild rebuild the sleeping giant request
                   let our people of japan return to their nest

                  for there will always's be another tomorrow
                  where earthquakes and tsunami's will bring such sorrow
                  for an sleeping giant all nestled in his bed
                  and his people dressed in five elements of thread

Tribute To Japan

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Free verse | |


Tonight, the full moon blooms
And foils the looming gloom.
The remnant doom from noon
Has lost it's bullish tune.
And embraces dusk's eerie cool.

The village square it illuminates
Arena of moonlight tales of late
The little ones gather and wait
While the elderly engage in debates
And the goats noisily ruminates

The bright night, lights sparks
Of bliss and joy in trees' barks
The tall iroko whistle in parks
Where young lovers end their tracks
And skimpy skirts lose their tacks
The son of perdition frets unsure
The thief in the night fears exposure
The pirate sailor steers from ashore
The night fisherman denied action
For the kind light bathes the ocean

Tonight, the full moon beams proud
As the town crier makes his round
Belting forth a piercing sound.
While the town's chorus echoes loud
The stage is set for the yearning crowd

Copyright © Kolapo Olapoju

Details | Imagism | |

Something good

The smell of coffee: hot and bitter in the cold winter night 
With the rhythm in the left hand and the rhyme in the right, 
He wrote a poem in his secret pocket,
A wistful star like a speedy rocket
Ready to leave this planet intense blue
In search of other traces of life anew.
He remembered after mother had died,
In the cold touch ,stalagmites and stalactites cried.
Father and son felt a strong taste for sweets.
As in the sunset, the blind boatman meets
With an awkward touch the water`s ring
But generally they needn`t to eat anything
For a while they rested an extraordinary team:
Father insistently (sometimes boring) told him
All his recollections:childhood,war and the rest…
All muscles and teeth pressed hot, like ice on the crest.
The son learnt them by heart, and later
He would retell them to father, even better…
One was on duty to wash the dishes;
The other tried to follow his wishes…

Their only joy was to read and read and read…
One had to cook at home ,and to bake the bread
In a bread factory:He was happy even when he was sad.
He could recognize each bread: All his loafs were bad.
He was like Chaplin in “New Times”.
He was speaking in figures and rhymes.  
He wore a monk beard and father was much more younger.
Looking through the window: grey hunger and anger …

At the weekend, he used to ask his father 
About the favourite meal, but rather
He would find a surprise the next day.
Each day was windy winter and grey…

Father had the same touching answer:”Something good”.
In the strange interference ,water and fire ,one was rude.
Solitude  was their common friend stealing in like a lizard,                                       
But, in the afternoon they played sweeping their courtyard.
They had leaves in autumn and snow in the winter.
The sky was grey without sun, the clouds were bitter.
Father was counting the leaves, in the old horizon
The son was painting the days ,in the cold horizon.

The war with the falling down leaves fighting hard 
With red faces like an inveterate drunkard .
And years after his father met his final hope,
The son would stop in front of  the sweets shop , 
Ready to buy recollections as Christmas tree sweets.

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa

Details | Rhyme | |

Oh! Humanity,

Oh! Humanity,
How you’ve completely lost your sanity.
Did you forget how to grow?
Every one of you was planted row by row.
Did your heavenly Father not nurture you with love?
Did He not make the rains fall from up above?
Oh where is your heart?
Who gave you your first start?
Oh! Humanity,
What vanity!
Oh! Humanity,
What profanity!
Daylight hours just wash ashore,
With simple lives from once before!
Have you forgotten your heavenly Mother?
And what about your heavenly Brother?
Where is your Godforsaken mind?
What happened to being loving and kind?
Oh! Humanity,
How you’ve provoked such a calamity!
® Registered: Ann Rich   2006

Copyright © Ann Rich

Details | Lyric | |

In Bloom

Written July 29, 2013

The wind blows the rainbows down
Turns your frown upside down
Then spins it back around

The sun hides the moon
Underneath its coat in bloom
The flowers came late this June

The rain in a teardrop
Falls like dew from a leaf
When she looks at me

See that look upon her face
Used to take her to the stars
Now she's headed back from Mars

Now that Venus loves her more
Wouldn't throw her to the floor
Like before

Copyright © Brandon Carter

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Tragic Feather

Oh, tragic feather what is thy tragedy
No longer freedom gay or certian loft
How is this thy new translation
From a majesty, unto a wing thou hath mighty dropped

Were thou thus, shunned, cast away 
Or merely, cut out or off
As limb from downward spiral angel
Perhaps, a troubled finch or insanity in wayward hawk

Lie, if thou must, be it amidst a deafening silence, lonesome soft
But, I plead, please tell me fallen feather, what hath befallen thee
Thy tuft to ne’er evermore touch again
What life should be, warmth of the summer's breeze

Sleep, sleep now 'neath the alley's gutter greys 
Catching Weeping Willows damning drops
Adrift as the drowning lily dying
In seas of the myriad scattered rots

An accomplice I shall say, within a winter's willing white
And alas, buried ordinary in this doth the corpse delight
Far beneath the crowds held at bay and forever lost
Now thou hath become the naked grove of wicker and then...
                                   the more of naked souless crops

Copyright © Michael Smith

Details | Haibun | |

Transitory Seasons, a Haibun

Waking moments with the strong aroma of coffee percolating throughout the house, I arise.
Drifting through the morning mists, I find my way to the kitchen where the hearth-fire
embers, still warm from the night, glow orange in the pre-dawn emptiness. Where are you?
You, who have left your plate upon my table, sticky with basil and fresh eggs? You, who’s
scent upon my skin I wear as the finest perfume, inhaling deeply into my soul, your
remembrance with every breath I take, where are you?

pastel promises
dawn labours rigid skyline
slate sky epitaph

I hurry to open the heavy wooden door, and gaze out as dawn cracks the purple sky and the
smells of spring gust through my doorways, erasing all doubt of what I know. There, fading
in the morning dew, I see your footprints luminescent in crystal light, imprinted upon the
deep green of the forest path. Your tracks are leading away, back from where you came and
where I cannot go, yet. I watch the sun climb the skyline, exposing the stark truth of
daylight, so harsh with it’s radiant glare, that I must turn away. Footprints fading, I
know you are gone, and I return to my cold fire to prepare for another day.

crocus awakens
obdurate rainbow transpires
mocking winter's shroud

Many more will come today, with gifts of food and flowers. I have run out of vases, and
places to leave condolences. Excuses for why I do not accept a visit run as dry as un-shed
tears through barren conversations. I cannot hear, and it is a great strain these
visitors; the daylight hours are too bright, and their apprehension too loud. Forgive me
if I offend, in my knowing of just where I need to be. I did not seek anyone’s advice
anyway. Looking out past worn curtains I watch for the setting. Crows gather on the
budding trees and raise ruckus in their frenzy to reunite. I know you laugh at me, waiting
as I do. I hear you in those black birds. It’s called a “murder of crows” you’d tell me.
I hear you in my mind, just as I always did, and I feel your presence as a warm breeze on
the small of my back, but it is not the same, and never was, you know this.

stark dusk descending
shadows jeer eternity
peremptory fate

Copyright © Krow Fischer

Details | Ballad | |


It is...within the tiny things of early morning, that moment breaths alive, it is within the tiny whisperings, that a melodye the very dear and the antelope, play home on the range.

so goes the melodye of heart beat, that plays quietly the songs of soul,

here a rhyme is born of day-light coming so soon, through the early morning eyes of the moon-light, and the starry dreams of twilight's transitioning...

into the light of a love letter written to dawn.

soul to soul conversing, as in this love letter, the letters just join hands with the words and just march across the sky...and at the end of the rainbow, there be plenty of golden time,

way down deep on the inside, the inspired choir, of a bumble bee, or a butterfly, starts to sing, like tiny things that live,

flower to flower,
blossom to bloom,

watered and deeply cared for...

O' Eden.

I say, deep beneath the surface of a wishing well...where the pennies lay,

I wish a sun-rise.

Copyright © Marrio Biggs

Details | Verse | |

Speckled Mist

Speckled Mist
 Beautiful colors, magnificent swirls
 Large enough to consume our world
 Then as if connected to an invisible cord
 All become stiff as an old iron board
More beauty than could ever be caught
 Its multitude could never be bought
 The force of it all becomes unstoppable
 Within one breath it forms into a single giant molecule
Watching all things stiff
 Starts forming a speckled mist
 Within a dark green hiss
 It's a piranhas kiss
 Thats what that is
And out of the violet mane
 There hearts open souls untamed
 From speckles to freckles to lines we would miss
 Within a males pyist
 It's love not in a grist
 It just keep forming out a name
 Once again eyes wide open love without game

Copyright © Courtney Courtney

Details | Blank verse | |

The Edge

The woman steps out on the balcony of her high rise apartment and among the buildings and streets and stoplights witnesses a fulcrum, an edge.
An edge, the edge, the intersection of beginnings and endings,
The moment when crops are ripe for harvest.
The edge calls to us and invites us to forsake what is known,
The edge calls us to test the limits of our understanding,
And step into an abyss of possibility,
Sinking down into relaxed awareness of beauty,
The edge awaits us.
The edge, where race no longer matters and neither does popularity,
The edge, where souls delight in the magic of music,
The edge, where souls delight in the power of seasons to change and death to beget life,
The edge is where we are neither disappointed at what we have not done or anxious that we will not continue in doing,
The edge is where we can see a life, a leaf, a soul for what it is without a biased back story of prejudiced contrivance,
The edge is where babies go when they are awakened in the womb,
The edge is the horizon where sunrises and twilight take our breath to the height of admiration,
For only God can make this atmosphere to shine just right as the sun and moon dance their dance of gratitude,
The edge is what I wish for now and always,
The woman steps out of her house in the mountains and among the stars hidden in sunshine and premature butterflies hidden in billowy leaves on trees she witnesses an edge, a fulcrum.
Where divinity and gratitude explode in the praise of creativity and the worship of life anew.
Edges, edges where comfortable platitudes have no voice and ignorant assumptions are ostracized,
Come quickly edges, come quickly edges and embrace me.

Copyright © Woodrow Lucas

Details | Epic | |

Dumbing Down Of The USA

Summer hath come, May blocked the sun, son, yet I know you read this Jedi 
Airwaves reek of radiation, reverberation stagnant holds no key.
Here we, hear yee, Kings of Alchemy 
everyday, every way, mopping floors like janitors, scientists of style, fluidity.

Yet, have you ever seen "Good Will Hunting?" "How do ya' like 'dem apples!?!"
Faces fraught with pale, we do not understand or yet fully comprehend what it 
is being accomplished here.
Still, week after week, we build this small community of ambition through 
attrition. We pour out our souls...FOR WHAT? Bickering in this pan, flash 
flooding through months supposedly in a drought. But, FOR WHAT"S IT ALL 
ABOUT. (or Aboot, for my Canadian brother's and sisters)

I give thanks for your interaction, but will not accept judgment of the few. In 
fact, purists, I will address you too, by flying high my middle finger, resisting 
the itch to even edit this "worthless excuse for a poem". But I know better 
than to pester you much more than that. For I too, need readers, and you're 
dropping like flies in protest. Still I say: "You're pissed off, it sure beats 
getting pissed on!"  Perhaps the world really fades to black when everyone 
stops talking of you.

There is not much I believe in firmly as the Universe/Multiverse is a million 
white canvases. But I, and I do mean butt-eye believe we are waking up. My 
duty involves elimination of the snooze button. If wishes were coffee, I'd stir 
the world hot, and see that cups overflow with pure energy. The black veil 
over our many nations needs lifted, and it's gonna take full concentration, 
positive motivation, and quite possibly myriads meditating.

 Amen brothers and sisters! 
If this piece doesn't resonate, I recommend one week off from television and 
or video games to improve clarity. Light becomes clear when dimming what's 
dumbing you down.

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO

Details | I do not know? | |

A Walk Alone

Quick as a blade lunging forward to claim a life, is this darkness falling upon me. Whispers of a sorrow, known so long ago, float in the thickness of the night. Twigs snap in the distance, I turn but my eyes fail me.. My own hand in front of my face goes unseen... then, all becomes quiet... 
   Walking along a gravel path, each step makes the pebbles unearth and dance along side me until coming to a halt.. Searching for even the slightest sign of light.. my head tilts towards the sky looking for the moon or the stars to show me what little comfort they could offer.. I am alone. Even they have abandoned me on this wicked night. Owls hooting in the midst of this forest, as if to let the rest of the forest know I am here.. and I am alone.. the wind at my back shows no mercy on my path to find light.. it taunts me, urging me to run as if it knows something I do not.. As soon as that thought was finished, a screech! 
   Snapping and cracking from branches being broken in a direct path to me. Finally I can take it no more, rendered so helpless, Frantic, I run blindly with arms reached out in front of me to take the blunt force of whatever I may run into.
suddenly, there is a loud "THUD"...
   The screeching stops, as do I.. Heart pounding intensely, it is as if it is not my heart at all, but drums being played.. Lungs threatening to collapse as my knees buckle. Tears of fear streaming down these burning cheeks..
whats that? Foot steps! I ask myself, from where? I spin, there!
   Don't scream, don't move..  Crouched down low to the ground. Eyes burning from the rush of tears, heart wrenching and twisting between my ribs.
A light! Scared, I stand.. One moment passes and the next I'm running... but why? Light is what I'm searching for! from fears and my pain... 
   This forest is a manifestation of my fears.. I must face them!
My feet come to a steady stop. Turning to face the enclosing footsteps.. My adrenalin is fading I can now feel where the broken branches had their way with the bare skin of my arms and legs. I can feel the lumps forming.

The light!
Eyes shut I cling to a nearby tree.. deep breaths in, deep breathes out.. bracing myself for what is about to come.

My eyes dart open...

Copyright © suzanne hoyt

Details | Light Poetry | |

Magical Candy Canes

Two little candy canes were bought at a store.
Excitement abounded as they’d have a new home, to explore.
Snuggled in a sack with beautiful toys all around.
Theirs was be a happy life, you can be sure, they had found

They arrived at their new home, as in a blink.
And what did they see, oh my, everything.
All that they’d dreamt of, was before them, you know.
And foremost was the tree… that they would call home.

The tree was decorated with such aplomb and fanfare, well done.
The children laughed and giggled as they ran all around.
What a riotous but organized day of joy it had become.
With tinsel, and ornaments, and lights so profound.

The candy canes were finally put on that glorious tree,
As, yes, a few were eaten by you and by me.
The ceremony ended when an angel was placed by Papa on top.
And no one made a sound, then vibrantly applauded as he came down. 

Finally they all had dinner in the room beyond, that night.
As all settled in to wait for that illustrious visit, so right.
Joy abounded all over this house as presents were, so nicely wrapped.
And cookies were made to hand all about.

The last of the candy canes would finally be eaten on Christmas Day…
As presents lay opened and children did play.
Now don’t be sad for those two magical candy canes…
They stole a ride with Santa to the North Pole on that special day.

Merry Christmas to all at Poetry Soup!

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Free verse | |

Love Will Out

In February? Sun burn from looking up at the sky? 
My Oh My… Yes, it’s so very nice and warm.
The trees are blooming and it warms my heart.
Even the groundhog came out, smiled, and looked around…
Six more weeks of this winter? The Best there’s been…
I’ll get out my Valentine trappings tomorrow at dawn.
Then I will go get our leaf blower and make it to blow…
Bubbles and Valentine hearts high in the air…everywhere… 
When my Hubby reaches our home and walks in the door…
I’ll cover him in hearts full of love… with kisses galore…
Yes, I’ll show him my heart… As he walks in… 
I’m sure… On Valentine’s Day our hearts will soar, again…

Happy Valentine’s Day to All and your Loves…

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Ballad | |


Another harsh Winter we must face It Matters not, no one can escape Fate Not Even The Gods With Bravery we shall Stand Strong In Care we shall advance onto Vigrid Fenrir Will Lay dead By Dawn's Perch Trim Your Nails, to Prevent Naglfar It's time to suit up; We Are The Einherjar Protector's of Ragnorak The Army of The Gods The Lovers of Valhalla All of Midgard will sing Of our triumph and their Defeat Sadly all will come, In a twinkling To An Utter End Madi, Magni, Sons of Thor Balder, Hod, Residence of Hel Lif, Lifthasir, of Yggdrasil Do us well Remembrance of our noble deeds Is all well enough Sing the Song We Are The Einherjar

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | I do not know? | |

"The Ataratic Tempest"

The passion that comes
When greeted by a storm
Is nothing I can explain
The rain, wind, thunder, and lightning
Sends a frenzy of shivers through my body
Making my every nerve numb
As the light flickers
And the thunder claps
I can feel my heart beat faster
The rain on the roof 
Like a drum
Sends my body in a rhythmic dance
The wind is my partner
As I float around
Above the ground
Leaving my worries behind

Copyright © Melanie Samuel

Details | Cowboy | |

guitar band dementia

camera three is having 
an existential crisis; 
his long languid lens 
has suffered in silence, 
an impotent shard of 
quixotic resistance, 
for his vision won’t 
focus on faecal injustice, 

camera three is having 
an existential crisis; 
mascots, despots, 
or other devices,
just won’t solve the problem,
or even negate, 
this delicate time 
in his delicate state,

camera three is having 
an existential crisis; 
Osiris, Anubis, Oasis and Isis, 
have all shed the skin of 
guitar band dementia, 
wheeling out wisdom 
for the fear of inertia,
camera three is having 
an existential crisis…

Copyright © William Ward

Details | Epic | |

pull though

we live in an angelic world made by numbers
all that i know that its made by nature
stones fall and trees grow
day by day we all grow together
all along we live in a beautiful world
we all rejoice together and bound together like leafs on a tree 
just like how they fall and die
we can all do it some how we all have
some one to lean on
close our eyes and get lost in motion transition between man and nature
we can all pull though
sea is spinning around the world
the rain comes and goes 
every time you see the snow comes a white light in our eyes
we all grow with cakes and candles
the old faces fade and so do the new
but we all live in a beautiful world
the sun rises every morning 
for some others have there backs turn
but wats ever happed to our souls its happened to someone else
so dont look back and grow old
burn your anger not your soul
just think that your still have this beautiful world
were the sun will always smile in the morning at you
every time i look around i see beautiful
long green grass
gliding objects all over my head
and me and you together
i know we can all live together as the light touches our hands we think of future plans
so make me unstopperble

Copyright © jason lewis

Details | Haiku | |

You Don't Phase Me

dogs come cats go
just like moon waxing
Don't let it phase you

Tribute To Moon Waxing LOL

Also Don't Forget To
Turn Those Clocks Back

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Rhyme | |

Season's Greetings!

Oh yes! I am bringing to you my sweetest “Season’s Greetings”!
We’re all for one and one for all we have our gradual meetings!
In just one single season; 
I can change my very significance, 
Into my natural underlining supernatural spiritual being,
I am inducted into a higher level of a thorough healing.

Autumn decorates Mother Earth’s leaves with painted colors of a much clever design.
Winter sheds its leaves harvesting bared naked trees perfected by one purely divine.
Spring brings many blessings by bundles pleasing my senses delicately I’m breathing.
Summer sparkles in midnight’s mystical air soothing my torturous day stained in sweat.
Balanced by my four winds in heaven into brilliant glory,
Each day you and I personally have pleasured and met!

“Season’s Greetings”!
Great Goodness!
I ‘m believing in exactly what it is I‘m seeing and feeling!

“Season’s Greetings”!
Goodness Gracious!
I’m feeling Mother Earth moving a healing inside of my own natural being!

A Sun so bright, glaring shiny throughout the endless midnight skies spreading wide out.
A Moon so light, beams flow through down into depths of seas netting webs on a mount.
Skies so high my breath loses sight in the glare of golden visions all at once I forebear.

Shallow rivers and high Mountains sounding to winds of decrees summoned by degree!
Valleys and fields rain top rocks of thunderous clouds striking down at the perfect pair. 
‘Tis Season’s Greeting adjacent to humbling breaths with heirs to a mightier new year!

Copyright © Ann Rich