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Free Verse Holiday Poems | Free Verse Poems About Holiday

These Free Verse Holiday poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Holiday. These are the best examples of Free Verse Holiday poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

R I P - Santa

~Do you Believe~ 

Here's the little twist in my parents home
Spreading fairy dust since I was 3 years old
The prancing and dancing before Christmas Eve
Made it hard to keep an eye on my mother 
Who I've seen kiss Santa under the mistletoe 
The cookies and warm milk sit on top of a note
Dear Santa, THANK YOU FOR SPREADING JOY!!!

The baking, 
The Wrapping,
The Stockings,
The decorations and toys!
How, I treasured every magical moment
Until, I realized who left the presents under the tree
Once the Christmas Bell Fell
The fairy dust wore off leavening no magic behind
That year was a year I earned the "NAUGHTY" list

Even so, my parents continued with the white lie
Decorating and Pretending Santa was real
My bike on the list was missing that year
I refused to behave and believe in you know who?
The magic inside was gone and dead!

I was old enough to know it was all a lie
The cookies, the present, the Christmas Glee 
The naughty list was barely an excuse,
Because, Parents worked hard all year long
Encouraging kids to be good in order to make the "NICE" list
Christmas is nothing more than a gimmick to every market 
Using Christ and his birth as a reason to believe

BUT, the twist is not how I stop believing
The twist is a fizz, how I brought the magic back
Today, my kids sit and enjoy the presents under the tree
Baking and wrapping, hanging stockings by the chimney
The decorations and toys are worth every penny
Now, I'm the one hyper after eating a few cookies
Now listen, Kids listen well  -  Don't act surprised!
When you see mommy kissing Santa under the mistletoe


LOVE LINDA

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Time Out

Make no haste,
your work is restless.

Aeon give me pause--
no more ticking
gears grinding
ever towards the
lonely end.

Live the now.
Even Death took
a holiday,
veering briefly from an
eternity of reaping
solitude.

Take your time
on earth and
mingle--
overindulge in
reverie.
Rest assured,
oblivion can
wait.

Copyright © Hyle Chu | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

THE HEADLESS HORSEMEN


On the black stallion of death,
Its red crimson eyes pierce through the night,
And the hell's beast breathes its hot brazen breath
Blazing against the darkness's chilling air!
Does he ride, this phantom of the dead,
Wielding vengeance's sword.
With one hand on the hilt of the blade,
The other arm reaching outwardly,
One finger pointing at his intended victim!
Screaming with a blood curdling howl,
Give me your head vermin, or I'll cut
It off myself, than laughing at their fear!
Beneath crimson fire moon, this hooded and caped,
Death's stalker, hunts down the innocent
Taking that which he desires the most
Their essence of life!
Run to the bridge's safety salvation lies
At the other end beyond.
For these waters cleansing baptism,
Could swallow him whole.
The headless horsemen cannot cross,
These blessed waves of sanctuary,
Or banished is he, hell bound for eternity.
This highway man, rides devastation’s
By ways, of the unknown.
Seeking to restore mind and body,
This Hessian with aggression,
Yearns for justices revenge, to what
Ends bequeath, he cares not, the price
To be paid, in human flesh and blood.
On Saint Hollows Eve, the horsemen
Gallops, across dead-man’s boundary,
Awaiting the stray trespasser, to trip into
His well-hidden trap.
Than striking without mercy's sake,
With its sharpened edge, steel slices
The mortal flesh, taking his prize,
The headless horseman rides away
Into the night.
Yelling, I'll return next Hollows Eve, be thee
So warned, for your salivations sake alone,
Don't tread in Sleepy Hollow after dark!.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Through Telescope Eyes...Valentine....

My desire is not for chocolates…
                       just for the taste of you
          so sweet on my tongue
(it lingers there as Ghirardelli does)

Do not give me pink stuffed bears 
if your arms will hold me 
                         on these tossed sheets
(embrace me tight and bridge this space)
                  I send (eyes open) 
crimson shed wishes
                       on passion tossed seas
and warm tender kisses
                                 I plead on my knees

Blood red hearts ooze on this page
 Every beat…(feel its rage)
           My heart emits
desperate calls….
                    a whisper on your wind
           (catch it please)

Unearthed flowers are useless…
they wither away
                       into the dust….
(though, calla lilies...if you must)

But you…
                 you are eternal…..

I want no message 
                      bought from hallmark
           (much too sterile)

Spill on pages words from you
            that breathe 
    the breath of life to me

Your heart….it is my reason....

Your soul…
It reflects a sliver satin shatter
                   dusting in my own 
A voice…it seems…
                    I have always known

Reminisce this…
Giggles on the pillow
Hushed morning voices
Precious tender moments
lost inside your eyes

Kiss me awake
                      with all your hunger
           (lips of desire)
           Catch this fire!
Tempt me hotly
                      with your touch
I’m still afraid
                when I feel this much
Make me mindless
               for suspended moments
Scattered within 
                   your dazzling brilliance
Flames of burning
                    tangerine
                             and rich ruby red
(much like the sunset sky)

“Good morning….my valentine…
         and good night…too”
        I will drink red wine
          and dream of you…

In sweet rainbows colors 
if your were mine....

Through telescope eyes...
My Valentine....

Copyright © Christie Moses | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Golden Dreams

The Leprechaun.

. 
Run, run, run as fast as you can...
I'm still gonna get you, my little green man...
I grabbed on to the gold buckle on his waist...
I held him down, with no time to waste...
I tied The Leprechaun to a hollow tree,
Broke off a branch and poked him on the knees.
I kept on poking him with a stick.
I kept nagging him to reveal his magic trick.

This little shamrock kid would not break.
He kept insisting THE LEPRECHAUN legend was fake.

This little odd dwarf kept lying about his mythical pot of gold. 
I kept repeating all the stories I've been told..  
Nagging him and nagging him~ FOR HIS POT OF GOLD!
He lied, about the fables, telling me his gold does not exist...
The Leprechaun refused to hear the clover list...


**** 

It's been 7 days!
And, still he won't give up, what's at the end of the rainbow. 
Tickling his little Eskimo toes,
Running feathers underneath his nose. 
"Look you little green treasure troll, I've captured you, and demand the gold!"
"You won't get me with your tricks!"
"So don't even try to outwit me with your silly MAGIC!" 

I suppose his silver-tongue, will have to do,
And the little gold buckles on his shoe.
I got tired of trying to make him see, my point of view.
I got a better deal and trade for a monkey at the zoo.
Now the lions are enjoying a Pot of Leprechaun Stew. 
After All! 
Nothing I did, made him unfold.
All I wanted was his pot of gold!

by;pd

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Sight, Sound and Scent




When I think of the bygone Christmas images that come to my mind are candy canes, cookies and popcorn strands adorning the Christmas tree. The popcorn strands are easier to make and still, I think,it's a family project. I know, decorating with cookies difficult but feel their homey feel with cookie cutters which can be napkin rings for the table Hear the sleigh bells ring creating the quintessential Christmas melody hang a strap of sleigh bells on your front door warm sounds, a great greetings for the guests. but the best sound is children’s laughter and the squeals of glee, as the presents opened. Think of the toys that simple things you might have played with a child like a jack-in-box or spinning circus top. Spices, bayberry and baked things are all scents that evoke the holidays. Choose the Christmas décor that appeals not only to eyes but to the nose and ears, drape fir branches tied with a red bow above the door.
+++ November 29, 2014 Form: Free Verse First Place win

Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

THE HANGING TREE

Dead men tell no tails, or so the winds of 
Destiny’s say.
On judgment hill from on high, 
Voices do echo downwards, as the 
Noose does sway, back and forth, on the
Hangman's tree.
These gallows, of oaken branches, act as tethers,
 Shackles, holding the forsaken, souls prisoner.
Ghost phantoms cling, to it's rotten limbs,
That break beneath times endless rampage.
Regrets fallen horsemen, of the old west, 
Stand guard, sentinels on horse back,
Wearing a tarnished tin star.
God's law keepers, are  branded, sworn,
By their honor, to protect even after death,
The gates of heaven, from this spawn of hell.
Beware evil desperadoes, no mercy will
This the lord's posses show unto you, 
For these riders bare a different mark.
A silver cross of justice, given by
The Almighty’s hand himself.
Say thy prayers, all lawless men,
For on this day, does the rope tighten,
Around your neck, there is no reprieve,
No salvation for evils deceit.
Hell bound are thou, the devils breed.
But beware, there is no escape,
From this grave site.
At dawns first light, as it spreads
 Across the western horizon.
Know that yee, are one of many spirits
Doomed, to be weaved within the
Tangled limbs, called the hang
Mans tree.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


 


 

 


 

 


 

 


 

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

BLOODY MARY


In the flickering of the ethereal candlelight, as the greenish blue flame
Burns dimly against the ancient mirror of reflections, the necromancer
Chants in rhythms rhythmic undertones, stirring the rippling pools of
Illusions, between the divisions of altered states of realism, and the 
Foggy vaporous mists in the domain of death itself, to summons
A creature of the unboned, the undead, a mistress of pure evil
Bloody Mary!
A disembodied supernatural thing is she, whom walks with
The flowing gown of bloody, dripping with the crimson fluid
Of living deceased, yet stilled warmed with the liquefaction
Of life itself, maneuvering within the shelled frame of
Her mirror prison!
Screaming is the twisted form within the glass, cursing at
Those for whom have commanded this apparition appearance,
In threes thou’est called upon me, Bloody Mary, so shall
Thee die in thus ways, each at a different edge of torment!
The table shakes beneath the necromancer, as the circle
Of hands are broken in fear!
Cackling in laughter’s glee, the distorted face within the
Mirror crackles her prism of shattered shards, stepping 
Forth from the portal open by the unskilled hands of 
The innocently blind, unable to move these maidens
Of curiosity, are spelled bound, mesmerized beneath in
 The hypnotic effects of this supernatural altered being
Of power!
In wickedness’s cruelty the predator inspects her living
Quarry, sliding her icy pronged nails underneath their
Pulsating necks, one by one, nay don’t worry my tender
Victims of distained fate, Bloody Mary proclaims,
With her frosty chilling breath of death, steaming against
 The hot summer heat of night!
To the victory goes the spoil of life, does it not, again she
Blasphemes at these lost soul of light, as her gown sizzles
To be feed with bloods flued of life’s sustaining
Essence!
The necromancer shuddered at Bloody Marys
Clammy touch, so in response the sharpened edge
Of the silvery nail cut ever depth into exposed bare
Flesh, causing instant deaths recoiling!
The second daughter of humanity, screamed in trembling
Fear to you my dearest, the hangman’s noose, to shut
Thy voice for all eternity, and thus Bloody Mary, did so
With the ravishment of pleasures tormented, smiling!
The last shall Mary said, will be the most savored for mine
Own desire, your soul I’ll thus feast upon for all eternity,
As the dress of doom sizzled with sheer pleasures delight,
As the emerald candle blow out, and the night
Wind screamed for its final time!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Dedicated to Poet Destroyer







Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

What's up with Santa

                                             What’s up with Santa
                                            He's acting like a child.
                        Santa Claus is upstairs in his big red sleigh bed, 
                           warm and cozy in his red flannel comforter, 
                           wearing his red dropseat pajamas, and hat
                                               sick with the flu, 
                                       constantly ring that darn bell. 

                                          Ting-a-ling, Ting-a-ling … 
                                             There it goes again 
                             Yessss… Dearrrr… I know you don’t feel good,
                           your throat hurts and is sore when you swallow 
                  your body is in pain, like a herd of reindeer has run over it 
                 A warm cup of hot cider and a cinnamon stick to give it flavor
                                               will ease the pain.

                                  I should have never given him that bell  
 
                                           Ting-a-ling, Ting-a-ling … 
                       Yessss… Dearrrr… I know your frequently, coughing 
                       is making your rib cage feels like it’s going to break
                          I will get some milk and chocolate chip cookies  
                                  so you don’t have to get out of bed

                    I wish Santa would quit constantly ringing that darn bell.
                          If he hadn’t shoveled the snow off the sidewalk 
                  and let the elves do their jobs, he wouldn’t be sick right now

                                            Ting-a-ling, Ting-a-ling … 
                     Yeessss… Deeaarrrr… I’m sorry your head is stuffed up, 
                              nose is red, hurts, and won’t quit running
                                 Reading the Naughty or Nice List 
                      will help you not think about what you're going through

                                 What came over me to let him have a bell

                                           Ting-a-ling, Ting-a-ling … 
                Yeessss… Deeaarrrr… You’re running a fever, freezing, and shivering
                               I will go inform the elves not to dawdle
                            keep making the toys in Santa’s workshop 
                           and make sure they take care of the reindeer

                 Oh! My! I hope Santa gets well before Christmas gets here, 
                                 so he’ll get better and out of my hair
                                or I am going to hide that dumb bell

                                                
  
 
By Eve Roper 

Sponsor: Carol Eastman

Contest Name :Story poem about Santa Claus 

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT


Given are we the name of the vampire, creatures of the forbidden,
Driven to live forever within the shadows, or die
Beneath a wooden steak, through our black hearts of pure evil,
But in reality, we are so much more than fictions fantasy tails!
Passions blood devils, quenching our thirsts of desire beneath
The Flickering lamp light of centuries, the ageless immortals,
Entombed within the cryptic blood covenant of the fierce!
The children of the night, who bear the mark of the carnivorous beast,
Behold our dark father, whom dwells in the blackest pitch of hells
Crimson kingdom of death,
We are the lunar descendants of legacy's blood brethren, transfusions mutant
Disciples of darkness, prime evil chameleons of illusion and deception,
Invoking predators, feasting on the exposed under belly of humanities
Breasts of the sinful soul.
Abominations blasphemers, of the elliptical salvation of the divine,
Winged serpents of the devil's spawned, vampiric snakes curling around
The throats of mankind, infusing them with our deadly venomous poison!
Hooded cobras, existing underneath the veiled silhouette
Of the translucent moon, ebony dragons of twilight, flapping against
The harvest of the newly born undead!
White lilies of fleshes innocence, are lain to rest at the mausoleum of the forsaken,
Tender are the leaves of the blackened flowers of the newly pronounced dead,
These delicate petals are so cast a sunder by the winds breathe of the demonic moon!
Legends beasts of the fields to be feared, the unkempt, and unclean
Spiritual wracks hidden until night falls veil descends, but within us
Is a living piece of humanity, desiring to love, procreate and spawn,
Those of our kind, to invoke others of our species!
Beneath the earth is a world of living death, the kingdom of the undead,
Given birth by the slaying of the sun, here is our unholy domain of darkness,
For we are the cursed and the shunned!
My kind seeks the soleus of the shadows, bathing in the cold warmth of
The moons chilling air, we so soar beyond the tethers of humanity,
Swaying between the shifting clouds of gossamer, into a world of spiritual
Uplifting, singing the praises of our dark father, for we are the children of
Night off spring of the immortal one, the devil’s own kindred of the blood!
Given are we the name of the vampire, creatures of the forbidden,
Driven to live forever within the shadows, or die
Beneath a wooden steak, through our black hearts of pure evil,
But in reality, we are so much more than fictions fantasy tails!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Just Another Boogeyman

There’s nothing all that scary about a jack ‘o lantern. It’s just a hollow pumpkin with customary mouth, nose and eyes carved to form the usual wry face. . . Imagine that same pumpkin on Halloween night - lit up on the porch of some dark and eerie lonely worn out house. And there’s no one there but you! You approach the door but get a strange vibration this is not a house for trick or treating! No one seems to be there, and yet. . . as you turn to go, you are sure that you can see writhing worms and cockroaches come crawling from the flashing eyes and the grinning orifice of that pumpkin face. And you can almost swear, as your skin turns into goose flesh, that you hear that bad Jack snigger, his bright eyes trained on you as you rush off. As your mind races with its morbid thoughts, your feet start racing too, for all this is born from your imagination. He is just another boogeyman, and he’s laughing at the humanness in you.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

MY PRETTY POLLY


Made is she of the finest porcelain, that daddy's
Money can buy, with soft raven tresses, and blue
Hued shining eyes.
My pretty Polly baby doll, has a hand painted on
Smile, and long curly eye lashes, that bat and blink,
When one is not watching her, my cleverest of play
Mates is she.
You must understand one thing perfectly clear, dear
Friend, my pretty Polly is no ordinary standard toy,
Yes, I fully know that children have a vivid imagination,
But sir or madam, I've seen it for myself, and felt her
Malevolent presence.
At first it was fun, playing these haunting games,
A trickster’s paradise, she'd laugh and giggle, with
Fiendish delight’s pleasure.
But I'd always get blamed for the mischief, she'd get
Us into, so I decided that I wouldn't play with her anymore.
So I tucked my pretty Polly in a trunk, in the upstairs attic,
And locked it up good, and tight.
Later on that very same night, when I took off my slippers,
And said my prayers, I snuggled beneath my comforting covers,
Then beside me I realized in sheer terror, there she did lie,
Smiling back at me, with those great big blue eyes.
In the quiet and stillness of my very own bedroom,
She did so whisper in a gentle sadistic voice, cuddling ever
Closer to my tender year’s youthful ear, don't ever do
Something likes that ever again.
This is when I lost my childhood innocence, it was then
That I realized the true matrix of our relationship, that I
Was Polly's pretty playmate, not the other way around?
Time passed by slowly after this earth shattering event,
Deadly tea parties, hurtful games of hide and go seek,
Until one day she turned her delicate porcelain face
Away from me, announcing in a curt and mischievous voice,
I'm rather quite bored with you.
The next morning when I awoke she, my pretty Polly
Baby doll had gone, never to be seen again.
When questioned by my Papas, about her whereabouts,
I gave him the same chilling smile, which this haunted
Doll my pretty Polly, had given me time and time again,
Well I'm not sure, she's lost my dearest father.
Oh that's a shame my little child, would you like
Another one to take her place, no I replied, a hug
Will do instead, just fine!!!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

whispers in silence

What keeps me awake
When the cool breeze bears whispers of things to come
Promises to be fulfilled on the morrow?

Is it my joyless moment of cognizance
knowing that this stagnant night ripples from no real breeze
Only imagined promises birthed on the whims of a longing heart?

Yet, what keeps me awake
is not these dreams of flattering winds
but it is this night of lifeless branches and unrifled leaves
the lack of real whispering winds taunting my heart
What truly keeps me awake
Is the silence of tomorrow.

Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

the nun and the witches last walk

Even though
It was so long ago
It still holds the place in my heart
The one I reserved for special moments
with him 
The times before his health
got the best of our relationship
Back when my grandpa 
was able to be my 
grandpa

It was my first parade
and one of his last
The Halloween of
2006.

There was
tigers
and lions
and bear
oh my.
but there was also the usual
witches, and monsters
but most importantly
there was my grandpa.

He volunteered to help
with the small monsters
of classroom 301 that year
which would also be his last 
so he was able to walk with his
even if he kept stopping 
to pick up candy 
along the way.

walking with him
along the crowded streets
past the sirens of the firetrucks
and over the steep hills
will forever beat any memory
of 
trick or treating
passing out candy
or the endless Halloween parties

for that was just a moment to enjoy
now that his old age has hit him
hard
there's no more walking
no more dressing up for Halloween
just to see a smile on the face of 
his grandchildren
his little monsters

That moment will forever hold my heart
ten years ago was
the last time 
this witch
had her
nun 
of a grandfather
walk beside her   





 

Copyright © Alexis Hogg | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Sailing Away

Cruising the Mediterranean
I don't wish to fight any more
I want to enjoy the sunset
On the sea I so adore

Please hold your tongue
In silence,
View the beauty all around,
Tend the sails with care
So we don't run aground

I'll make us Margaritas,
We'll dine in finest style
As our sloop carries us
Through many a sea mile

No fighting, please,
I beg you,
Let this be a sailing
in but total peace,
And anger and misunderstanding,
I pray that they do cease

So hold me as you did once,
No question of our love,
And watch the Albatross
As he flies off with the dove

The soothing sea to rock us,
As if babies in need of sleep
And the new memories we create
Forever shall we keep.

Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse | |

Dragon Holiday

            Dragon Holiday
      (Be careful what you eat)

Dad and I went hunting on giant’s mountain
They sleep for hours at a time so we climb kinda sneaky
Crawl real slow over their big arms and limbs
And noses that snore louder than the wind
Our hunger grew as we entered dragon valley
We had our sights set on a baby one
They are easy to catch and put in a bundle bag
We charm them with a cookie and a smile
I had dragon burgers on my mind
They say the tail is tender and delicious 
We love it with cranberries on the table with side dishes
A young blue dragon galloped up to us and spoke
He said his name was Teddy
I said, my name is Dave.  This is my dad
And what a coincidence!  I have a bear at home called Teddy
Would you like to join us for Thanksgiving Dinner?
Another coincidence popped up
They too have a holiday the same as us
And call it, The Celebration of Breathing Fire
His mom and dad said yes to dinner
But we couldn't put him in a bundle bag
As dragons don’t like to suffocate
We were so happy to find our talking friend called Teddy
That we could no longer think of serving him as food
Next to the turkey or even as a side dish
Because he was so polite and oh so civil
We simply had him as our guest for dinner
The moral to my story is
Eat your dinner but don’t eat your friends
The end

Created on 10/18/14 for- Fable to the Rescue – Poetry Contest

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Halloween Night

Across the land he strides this night,
Amide the living and the dead.
He goes confidently in search of a fight,
Harboring no amount of dread.
He seeks those going bump in the night,
Including the living dead.
Cross bow at ready with hidden knives,
He’ll clear this land he’s said.
Wow to the wicked on Hallows Eve,
Be careful as you run amuck, and hide wherever you will…
For Van Helsings aim is straight and true,
As is his beating heart, a rare few have ever imbued.
And of course those magnificent fighting skills…
No one can ever outdo.
Consider well your choice of path between evil and the good,
For Van Helsing’s waiting right ahead…
To take good care of you.


Contest: Halloween Night
8-22-2012

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Queen's forest

In Queen's forest,
squirrels thrill with their tails,
sweet fruits compete for bite.
There I shall holiday
and refill me with hunting game.




30 syls.
Name: Kayod5.
Contest title: Somewhere.
Date :10.1.15

Copyright © KAYOD5 Kayode | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Bethlehem's Star

Bethlehem’s star luminous cross delicately hung by cherubs adorning a cold night sky The warmth of a promise yet to be fulfilled lured shepherds and wise men alike to a humble manger where a Savior drew his first breath exhaling in the bitter air of a world He sought to save

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

A Forgotten Box

He, the Master of all living beings, wonders why he’s been shut out. It is the free will He gave us at birth that allows us to block out His intentions. Jesus came to Earth as a Savior, born in a manger’s tiny crib. It’s His birth we celebrate on Christmas Day, but the meaning of this holiday is hidden by plastic trees with glittering lights, designed to make each heart feel bright. But it doesn’t work, does it? The gifts, the stress, the obligations come around each year in December. When we take Christ out of Christmas, we stow Jesus away in a forgotten box
*Entry for Curtis’s contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Christmas Eve

She enters the bedroom and locks the door
A few deep breaths, a precious minute alone
She sighs, takes a moment, to unwind and restore 
A brief chance to re-group... refresh.., tidy her hair....
Her blouse has a splatter, ....what should she wear?
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she closes her eyes, with no one to peek
Lies back, her thoughts swim, ....how easy it would be to curl up and sleep...

A hectic day....they had arrived early in the morning
Like swarms of bees
Buzzing frenetically...dispersed quickly throughout
A tidal wave of activity,
A house, bulging at the seams..
Once again, home for the holidays
The brood...all her chicks and, and the cackle of offspring
Home to roost....

Beyond the closed door, the house is filled with small, distant sounds.
A clatter of dishes from the kitchen, oops sounds like something broken..
Someone is laughing.....someone else is talking politics.. 
Good smells of dinner, and bayberry candles scent the air.
Faint strains of music from the stereo,  Perry Como's joyful voice
One of the children is whining with a yowling fervor that her sibling has pushed her

Okay...time is up, ......she must check on dinner...
Turning out the bedroom light, stepping into the hall....
She stops,...hesitates just for a moment...
"Thank you, Lord...for these sounds, these smells, these precious moments....
Thank you for these many blessings....
Thank you for this most wonderful, happy year....

Thank You"....

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

More Than A Dream

Written in honor of Black History Month-February 2010-


I have a dream……
	That there will be no more labels of “Black” or “White”
	That people will come home to their families and relax at night
I have a dream……
	That no one will second guess, because of my skin color, my character 
	That I will never in my life hear the words, “Nigger” or “Cracker"
I have a dream……
	That should I marry a black woman it will be totally acceptable in society
	That people of all races would not be judged by their tastes in variety
I have a dream…….
	That if I have a bi-racial child he or she will be accepted by their peers
	That they’ll be given an equal chance to pursue their choice of careers
I have a dream…….
	That more leaders, like Dr. Martin Luther King will be raised
	That the tragedy of his death would be erased
I have a dream…….
	That all races will stand hand-in-hand, until the “Twelfth of Never”
	That people in the world would become color- blind, forever
I have a dream……
	But….this is more than a dream to me
	I pray that I may awake and find these things have become reality!!!

Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

After Christmas Sigh

All gift's delivered

Some few still under the tree,

Voices filled with thanks!

Children jumping with glee...

Now we sit and sigh

Making plans for the 4th of July,

And Valentine's day

Easter, 

and so many more

In celebration of something,

Another Birthday for someone we adore...

There is money to be spent,

In spite of the economy

We rework our budgets wishing we were worry free.

Ah, but someone was happy today

twas Christmas, 'twas Christmas,

Copyright © Cynthia Alvez | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Camp-meeting Grounds Martha's Vineyard 2009

Summer lay lazily over the land.
The languid weight of wind and water 
bowing tree limbs, chasing sand 
squalls over sidewalks.

Cyclist meander down aisles
of Rose of Sharon shrubbery past 
banks of day lilies and Pez-purple
hydrangeas.

Tourist, colorful as the flowers,
buzz through seaside shops in flip flops 
the color of Necco wafers.
Their gummy soles making sucking 
sounds upon the linoleum.

In gingerbread slumber like fairy-tale children,
they gather in pink, lime-green, and purple houses.
The poor of a Christian God have become 
the rich of a capitalist nation. 
They hoard their paper-lantern dream.


Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Silent Night, Weary Night

Silent night, weary night
Worked all day, worked all night
Worked at baking and wrapping of gifts
Hoping the family wont get in a rift

Ohhh and where is the fruit cake
 and  by gosh now who spiked the nog

Silent night, weary night
House to clean, the cake has a lean
All of the stockings now hung in a row
I think the cat just swallowed a bow

Oh  I forgot batteries
Thank God 7-11 won’t close

Silent night, weary night
Family is gathered
The paper is scattered
I still have three more gifts now to build
No understanding the instructions will yield

Oh but these are the good times
I keep repeating this in my mind

Copyright © Laurie Ginn | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse | |

last night i dreamt

Of january starting a new year

Of heart messages written on colored paper in february 

and my birthday in april 
 
of green cabbage and corned beef in march

Of hot dogs and hamburgers in may for memorial day

 the beginning of summer in june


And fireworks in july

The summer coming to an end in august

Labor day gatherings before the kids start back to school in september

Spooks and goblins prancing through the street in october

A turkey feast in november

And everyone opening gifts in december.  

July 27,2013.         Humorous

Copyright © karen croft | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Georgia Muse

I went to Georgia without my bonjo in my hand I knew it would be great after I landed and took a stand I told them my name and they asked, "What's your fame?" I reached for my muse and turned it loose like a goose They straightened their ties and said “O’ me, O’ my!” “We made a mistake about this poetic rhyming guy!” Someone handed me a bonjo and they all joined the tango My muse had its way and we had a wonderful stay As we departed for home they started to sing, “Hurry back poet, may your muse give you wings!”

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

Christmas Scene

So what is different
The vagrant limps across the careening snow
Scantily unkempt
From inside the bank with glittering glass
I watched him pass
Carried by the flow
Of that dilapidated mass
For whom tolls the jingling bell
And toll, and toll ignored again
My heart 
Shunning the superficial cheer
Left all I heard
Devoted to a pilgrimage of eyes
Where the fire glows warm
And hope gathers moth-like 
I see him push, and pushing through
Put out his arms to touch the tired flame
As though an angel had troubled it
Or perhaps a rudimentary manger
And Christ so far from it
While he sleeps secure on warm
On the bank floor
Under the beautiful Christmas tree.
I walked away
Full of grief and empty
While behind me toll, and toll again
The jingling bells of the Salvation Army.
O Mary, hail us not as Joseph in this despair
Nor magnify too much your feat
He too has swollen and blistered feet
And I volatile from the pilgrimage
Ask questions of my faith
Tell me, for all the change from manger to cross,
What is different now from then?











Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

The Red The White And The Blue -The Free Flow Style

~The Red The White And The Blue~ 
(Free Flow Style) 


Let's all stand by the red 
The white and the blue, 
There she stands in all her 
Glory 
And in all her colors so 
Proud 

She may be burnt and by some 
People torn apart 
But there she still stands 
very, very proud, 
In the houses, in the buildings 
Flying always, 
Always untouched in the wind 

And in the hearts of the brave 
The proud and the free, 
She's much loved by me and 
All of us 
That believe in her cause and 
Her dreams, 
So she will always stand in 
Our hearts, no matter what, 
In all her radiant colors of 
Red, white and blue.... 
Flying higher and very proud 
In all the hearts of the brave 
And the free, 
And all the Ones that we love 
And defend Liberty. 


Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 
Copyright@2015 




July.04.2016




Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Near Halloween

When witches go riding, And black cats are seen, The moon laughs and whispers, ‘tis near Halloween!
Author Unknown

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2012