your golden trumpet fanfares
the dawning of spring
Published in Haiku Journal #33 by Prolific Press
While you sleep
Lady dressed in white
And melt your cold heart made of ice
High into the sky
And fall as raindrops from God’s eyes
Where now you will grow
With me - in the bloom of a rose
Author: Elaine George
* Note: This poem is a Personification as well as a triple Fibonacci
Brian Strand's 'Image Contest': First Place
John Heck's '12-in-one' Contest: First Place
has long died;
she comes to pass.
across open yards,
blotted white -
then, one last
escapes with might
to southern breeze.
transform with ease.
slowly brighten -
in budding delight,
they sleep no more.
soft to touch,
in wake of warmth
and bubbling sounds
of children’s laughter.
Under a hearty sun,
bare feet and legs
long to lilt
as passion follows
out to taste the open air,
waiting for night
to kiss in the flush
of descending moonlight –
as shooting stars
sleep no more.
last sparks in the fireplace
cool, no longer needed
to kindle romance.
I soften to the touch
of spring dew,
the joyous music -
fresh falling rain;
taking her time
to seed waking soil
until she voraciously
like a lost love –
a restless gypsy
on a journey-
she sleeps no more.
Spring dresses earth
in liveliest colors…
and I smile,
Overwhelmed with the beauty
touching my soul
and sun showers falling
on sweetened dreams.
Spring heralds the dawning of brilliant bluebells carpeting the woods
Silently they slept until the warm sun rouses them from slumber
Gently they open their eyes, stretch and bask in nature’s glory
Contest Glorious Sijo Fields – Andrea Dietrich
How Many Syllables - Count 16, 16, 15 – total 47
~awarded 5th place~
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 -
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
Springtime paints such a delightful scene
Cute lambs gambol in the fields so green
Warm winds whisper through the leafy trees
Blossoms float down on a swirling breeze
Daffodils daintily dance and shake their heads
Bringing bright yellow sunshine to our flowerbeds
3rd February 2015
All around our hedgerows and gardens
Buds are forming bringing brilliant
Colour into our lives where previously
Dreary winter darkness lurked.
Everywhere new life is forming
Fields are bouncing with spring lambs
Gamboling about with their friends.
Hyacinths sensational scent fills the air
I simply love this time of year
Just bursting with new life
Knowing that spring is finally here
Lightens my spirits and
Makes me smile
Nesting birds collect food for fledglings
Only pausing for tiny breaks. They are
Perfect parents who work tirelessly
Quietly and lovingly
Raising their beautiful brood who are
Soon to leave the nest
Trees become dressed in gorgeous green
Until they are fully clothed
Verdant vegetation covers the land
With new crops growing
Xanthic coloured daffodils
Yearn for spring sunshine and merrily they
Zigzag in the warm winds
Contest Abecedarian - Shadow Hamilton
~awarded 3rd place~
April's mist has filtered the early sunrise,
Meadows spread their blankets of colored rainbows
Newborn lambs have nestled in clover cradles,
christened by dewdrops
By Carrie 3/17/15
For Craig's Contest: Sapphic Stanza Number Three
S - P - R - I - N - G
Ah! Harsh cold winter must be tired,
his grip weakening, he breathes his last.
The frowning skies finally crumble fast
revealing downy blue clouds that waltz
The sun blows kisses of shine--- like a rainfall
touching, caressing but melting adagio
the white icy coats among branches...
The blossoms sultry strip to loosen their curves
then upon naked arms of trees curls
the color green trembling with symptoms of spring.
Birds twiddle free to sound like thrums.
Evergreen trees duet as they whistle
to calm tunes of nippy breeze.
All around a choir blushing fountain hues
of brown, red, pink and yellow.
Animals long-hiding from hugs of frost
now stands. They burst with grins and jolts--
like squirrels bouncing up and down.
Butterflies outstretch wings flutter by!
Snow that clogs and plugs finally weeps--
running dry with the heat rising slow on air.
It stirs sweet liquid pearls
to tip-toe on leaves and petal's swells.
Buzzing bees chase fresh floating nectar...
Lured, they dance on merry-go-round
in the warm bosom of smiling sunshine.
Coats and boots all pack and rolled away,
chuckles and giggles tickle the daytime flair
as little children prance to do some plays.
POEM OF THE DAY -- JANUARY 07, 2015
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name: Seasons
06:49 pm, January 01, 2015
The first light of Spring washes away night
Penetrates Winter's forest of dead leaves
Staining each tree in a soft yellow light
Leaving my mind to enchantments conceived
Fading to dust is a sky of dusk gray
While sun rises with coats of flowing gold
Melting away clouds as they try to stay
Warming each flower so petals unfold
Welcoming soft mornings, birds on the wing
Quietly searching for their hungry feast
A path I will walk to hear them all sing
In awe of Nature, of which I am the least
To see Spring flowers, so captive in form
To wander in light, so precious so warm
contest Flower Song
Sighing softly, a gentle breeze,
dances amid my clothes line.
Sweet the scent, refreshing tease,
as sheets, its hug entwines.
This night, on Spring, I shall recline.
For the contest: English Quintain, A Spring Day
Sponsored by Francine Roberts
~Spring versus Summer~
Spring is slowly leaving
And summer is swiftly arriving
And for me that really matter
Because the days are getting hotter
I love spring but mostly I love fall
That's when I really have a ball
That's when the days are just kinder
By reminding me when days are just better!
I hate to see spring go,
And for summer to my door just to show,
I don't like to feel all the heat,
Because that's when my body takes the beat
I prefer much better the cold weather
But I like it more when we are together,
Lots of rain and winds start to fall and blow,
Spring is about to exit and take her bow
Spring is slowly leaving
And summer is swiftly arriving
It makes me sad to see spring go
And for summer to my door just to show.
Dorian Petersen Potter
Acres of lush emerald meadows
burst forth from pregnant earth,
creating the perfect background for a
dazzling array of wildflowers.
Expectant mothers of beast and fowl
fill the countryside with new
generations, eager to find their way.
Honeybees and hummingbirds
in frenzied competition for sweet nectar.
Jasmine and gardenia blossoms
kindle their senses with a
lustful, pungent fragrance.
Mares, folding new colts,
nudgeing them gently up
on quivering, spindly legs.
Ponds give travel to ducklings following in the
quake of proud mamas.
Rainbow trout rush upstream to
spawn, before laying eggs in lazy pools.
Throughout floral scented air,
unfettered birds soar freely,
voicing a revival of hope and joy.
Whimsical butterflies take a rest on
xylem, between aireal ballets.
Young babes everywhere, renewing our world with a
zest for life's adventures, awaiting.
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
The evening is set out before me
on the threshold of night,
the hazy lights teeming
and glazed, webby-cold ----
bright with a white-haired curiosity;
What good honesty can bring,
observing reckonings and episodes
of spring stretching into the sky,
and many a mile on they who walk by,
Of faces rosy-red with frosty wiles;
wild eyes of winter,
(who stop for awhile)
They are gone, these frozen months,
the long cold sleep....
the chilled sheets,
heat with rebirth, melted snow neath
grins with spring;
glazed pines, tinkling water drains....
the sun soothes nearer its smile
The forests are roaring with song on the wind,
And all things warm with renewal,
stretching into the sheet of the sky....
Days and nights of hibernation
within the clapboard walls,
winter winds have eased
and only the sound of rain peals
upon the storm glass panes.
The desire to go out, to run, to scream
is strong, yet, on the rain taps a tarantella.
The parting soil unbound from icy grasp
permits the spear of crocus and of daffodil
and though the rain drones
an accompaniment with the clock
sleep does not come.
Knots of lassitude untwine
as child-like upon the open porch I stand
reaching upturned palm into the falling rain
watching as it strokes the waking ground.
Cleansed are we all by sky and rain and wind
rain on, bless the ground, let Spring begin.
Those Were Golden Days of Splendor
Rushing clear water splattered over the rocks
melding into a huge spraying white foam
The sounds made sent heavenly tastes to my ears
the sight pierced my heart with love's stab
Stab that melds heart to a gentle Soul
a sweet pain born again and again so happily
Fast running stream in my mind's eye endures
stamps images with a clear splash of life
Just a swift stream from my youthful forays
days spent exploring Nature, the world anew
Memories time stamped , precious cargo aboard
faces of family waiting home for my return
Rushing water, a life in a bubbling brook
A memory, a love , a mental picture I took!
Robert J. Lindley, 08-26-2014
note: Looking back at the greatest time of my life.
I was ten years old, rambling the fields and woods
like a roaming gypsy on the prowl. My father was still alive,
my mother young and in good health and best of all my
baby brother was two years old, destined to live 12 more years.
A happy family of 11 children and two parents. Life was good!
~Riot of Colors~
Life garlands cyclic blossoms
Traditional Haiku Contest – Debbie Guzzi
~awarded Honourable Mention~
Sunbeams weave through the twigs
of bare skeletal trees.
And a web of shadows
dance with each feisty breeze.
how much more can we take?
For cold clings to the ground,
holding onto each flake.
Silver skies look glazed,
like cheap carnival glass.
And the fickle sunlight's
too weak for blades of grass.
Sugar maples run dry,
not even one sweet drip.
And snowmen aren’t melting
embraced in Winter's grip.
Spring’s out there shivering,
while waiting in the wing.
And I can hardly wait,
for the warmth She’ll bring.
but Oh what a chill
The wind inhales and exhales
the trees bend on the hill
Winnie the Poohs Blustery Day
just cannot compete
In like a lion and out like a lamb
I am so tired of paying for heat
I long for crocuses, tulips and green
it seems like ages since they have been seen
Uprooting the dreams
time sows the seeds
And clouds shed tears
of April rain,
while winter wanes
and spring abounds.
Fleeing far flung
start heading home.
And on the winds
of open sky,
try new found wings.
usher in the
first days of warmth.
And tulips flaunt
their waxen bells,
atop stalks of
from rushing waters steal
invading fishes' spritely steel,
twixt heathery beetle's scar
and fluttery, flapping jar
the sentry hill now set
drags ferment's peace to fret,
while in the brave snail's eye
comes forth a baneful cry
from moorhen's craven beak
warm blood the bird to seek,
erect reminders, failing snow
disappear in morning's glow,
and from the corncrakes ring
shouts forth the jilted spring
How the flower
Bobs and weaves
With some bees
How the colour
Nods and sways
How the scent
I do not know?
The land still held in wint'ry grasp.
Against the chill my breath did rasp.
When for a moment my eyes did see,
A fair maiden dancing nakedly.
Nary a stitch nor thread on her wond'rous shape.
As she beckoned I could naught but gape.
When she spoke her voice was a melody,
Promising things that I only dreamed.
I went to her in bewildered awe,
And this is suddenly what I saw-
White roses tangled in her flaxen tresses,
A thousand poppies at her feet,
Fairies danced in diaphinous dresses,
With sunlight was the scene replete.
On she led o'er field and meadow.
Where she trod the spring would show.
With love and joy my heart did swell,
For this maiden had rescued me from winter's hell.
For hours we laughed and sang and such.
I would gasp and tremble at her every touch.
Not once did I think to inquire her name,
Nor did I ask from whence she came.
We rested at length 'neath a stately oak,
And this I found when I awoke-
Gone was my maiden and the spring she brought,
Frozen were the fields and meadows,
Simply a dream, or so I had thought,
Yet clasped in my hand, a single white rose.
I return each day to this lonely place,
Hoping to glimpse my fair maiden's face.
Low does the sun sink in the winter sky,
When I turn home with a tear in my eye.
For once again she has neglected to show,
And left me this wretched ice and snow.
Yet I musn't believe that she does not care,
Lest I should let my heart despair.
For she will return again one day,
Turning as she goes, December to May.
On Manhattan's West Side...
You descend ancient stairs
You've crossed the Drive
River Side Drive
Expect to float on air of beauty.
Cherry blossoms pink won't wink
They'll courtesy as you walk, jog, bike
Their fragrance light and airy
Suffuse each path paved smooth
Sloped path leads to arched cemented canopy
As ancient as view
The Hudson embraces you
A garden path with bright flowers
Will warm your heart
The young, the old, those in between
They live for such scenes
Sky, trees, mound overlooking New Jersey
The Hudson River is where I met my honey.
In the meadow birds glide with feathered motion
Quiet wondrous eyes with a gentle freedom
Capture Spring's soft ambiance and lush promise
Bonded with beauty
The March madness ends
I am just an April fool
looking for sunshine
Walking by the river.
It was that kind of day
With the Spring Sun soft and warm
There was a kind of energy
That moved within my form
I could have walked the whole day long
As I felt me, natures pull
Oh Lord those river trails are beautiful.
I passed a group of roos
Who were grazing by the river
Some Parrots screeched above my head
And set my heart a quiver
And as those creatures gave their calls
A Kookaburra laughed
Oh how I love to walk that river path.
It was that kind of day
That you’d like to last for years
With the country air rich in my lungs
And my mind all calm and clear
I could have walked until I dropped
Along that river trail
Feeling good and living in the now.
16 September 2004
The crocus first peers from beneath cold earth
Finding warm air and sunshine o’er the snow
Magnificent colors paint hearts with mirth
As in full swing lovers’ great passions grow
Most women associate love with spring
Though young men’s thoughts turn to baseball diamonds
While children fly kites that take gentle wing
As snowbirds return from tropic islands
How blessed we are to breathe that fresh air
One more spring in the calendar of life
When lilacs fill gardens with lavender flare
Vows uttered as man makes woman his wife
Their first child’s birth arrives the next April
Just months after grandma’s been laid to rest
Seasons like ages approach ever graceful
As robins watch offspring fly from the nest
For PD's "Spring" contest
from blossoms to bees
nectar drips from swollen lips
kissing the morning
Copyright © 2009 By Caryl S. Muzzey
6th place In
Poetry Soup's Contest
Nineth Place Winner ~ "One Of Your Favz-1-8 Lines!!! Old Poem" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Rick Praise
Aug. 1, 2013