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
Testing the water with bare toes
I will recoil
to the misted edge of hoarfrost
peek through eyes of Crocus
at the emptiness my promise
I’ll whisper to the branches shy
to remember seasoned stories
they were told
beckon to the passing birds -
let us celebrate this
My warming fingers, reaching gently,
thaw river ice
as softened earth imparts my scent
to foggy spice
worms wiggle in the drizzling
as dawn tempts the stretching vines
climb empty bowers.
I will touch each aching heart
with sunshine’s gift
releasing all from stifling
nestle with the Cardinals
languish in renewals
submitted to Seasons – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton
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 harlot maples crimson tipped nails
tap, drum, strum, and plunk;
at Aprils blasted blue sky.
Raking a wind born trail
across skeletal palms
and forearmed branches,
in a come-hither dance;
reawakening the cerulean stratus
above the dense sugar maple forest.
Sap taps a tune into tin buckets;
and, so, Spring is sprung.
As Dark-Eyed Junco birds head north I know,
You’re not far behind with warmer weather in tow.
With an experienced artist’s colorful brush,
You skillfully paint away winter’s gray slush.
Bringing sweet sunshine and cleansing rain,
Ravaged Earth you renew with rainbows again.
Crocuses yellow and white are brightly blooming,
Oh my goodness, you are absolutely amazing!
Even the rhythmic tap, tap, tap of woodpeckers
Tell me you are here – what mesmeric music to my ears.
Wrens return building nests and spreading their wings,
Flying high in your blue skies as they joyously sing.
Coming alive at the wave of your magical wand,
My elated heart soars and I feel superbly grand.
I love your cool breath so fresh and tender,
And light butterfly kisses that you gently render.
But my dearest Spring, as much as I enjoy being with you,
I have a jealous lover, Summer - so this has to be adieu.
On the wing in the dawning light,
Spring's new growth comes into sight.
Flowers, berries, nuts and seeds,
a smorgasbord to meet my needs.
I am a robin in grey-brown attire,
with my orange-red vest adding some fire.
A harbinger of Spring am I,
give ear to my joyous cry:
Wonderful, marvelous, glorious Spring!
Oh look! A fat juicy worm.
Don't you just love how he wiggles and squirms?
Gulp...down the hatch! Wow! What a treat!
Now to my roost I must retreat.
My mate and I must build a nest,
a comfy home where our young can rest.
Robin means new growth
For Andrea's "Picture yourself as a bird" contest.
The world that once was slumbering
Beneath the quilt of Winter's snow
Is now set free to gladly see
The rays of golden sunlight
He peeks at first so shyly through
The drifting clouds of leaden grey
And then, behold his beams of gold!
A kiss of gentle sunshine
The trees are budding, flowers bloom
And shades of gentle green abound
The birds of spring so sweetly sing
While kissed by rays of sunlight
How father-like the sun looks down
In glorious warmth and light
To see the things his fire brings --
The miracle of sunshine
From east to west he travells on
In grandly royal golden robes
A pilgrim man, that once began
Benignly sending raylets
As here I watch th'unfolding spring
And bask in beams of heaven's king
I think of monarchs, once divine
Whose wond'rous kingdoms once did shine
This sun hath missed not one poor soul
But fondly with a tender touch
Hath kissed the maids that dwelt in glades
Of distant lands now vanished
Now all, I think, once gently kissed
Have sung the praise of heaven's rays
And all, it seems, that Sun hath wist
Have tracked his run throughout their days
His rhythmic climb and equal fall
While heeding Nature's firmest call
His constant change, yet still the same
When once returned from whence he came
A mystery, a miracle
At times a friend, at times severe
But each new day at Dawn's approach
Reveals the kiss of sunshine
I sat on the toy store shelf, feeling all bottled-up and unwanted.
The kids prefer to play with video games, these days,
rather than being outdoors with me.
Then one day, this little girl grabbed me down from the shelf
and begged her Mommy to buy me.
She took me out to play as soon as we got home.
The spring day was so bright as I met the sun for the first time.
I could not contain the joy that I felt
as she unscrewed the lid and dipped the plastic wand
into the soapy liquid. She brought the wand to her lips
and gently blew out a line of iridescent bubbles.
I felt so free, floating through the air with my new friends.
Her giggles of delight were the sweetest sound.
She dances as we swirl around her. Pure imagination takes over
as she pretends to be a fish in a bubbly underwater world.
I will never forget the wonder that was in her eyes.
The wind caught each one of us, taking us on a new adventure.
She runs to try and catch me as I drift up and away from her.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
May 20th, 2014
The buds slowly peek into the sunlight
As flowers bloom inside the verdant pastures
Among the slowly winding, silvery, gurgling stream
The yellow daffodils sway back and forth, caress by the whistling wind
Beside the pasture, early in the morning, the birds are now moving
With many chattering, chirping and dancing through the trees
Winter has loosen his cold tentacles
And beards are no longer seen
The rays of sun cast a beautiful light on the wet grass
And even the the squirrels and the chipmunks find food to eat
There is new growth everywhere and excitement in the air
All is well, there is a hint of a cool summer breeze
The petal has floated into a new vast world
The wind of harmony uplifts the petal
The petal is drifting with serendipity
The petal is in love
Bliss is all I see, floating on winds that freed me
Dancing with others in a swooning flurry
How long will nirvana last without my tree
Time, please do not hurry
Pity the perennial
They are isolated from winds of passion
Never taking a chance, never will they see unknown beauty
Why are they watching us while we explore all of mother nature's creation
Fading, the sun relinquishes my mortal soul
Withering away, the earth is reaping me
Crumbling, winds spread my ashes into the sunset
I am ready, sweet death
Winter lashes out with awful fury knowing
the solstice means her time soon will end.
That tail between legs hangs as days lenghten
and land frozen and icy will begin to warm.
Winter's raging blizzards coat land white
with massive dirfts of snow that block
passage through the lanes and tracks.
Pristine glittering icicles adorn trees.
Lakes frozen solid, dimly glimpsed fish swim
beneath. While on banks shy snowdrops peek
and carefully open their petals one by one.
Yet still Winter tightens her grip stubbornly.
The days slowly lengthen and sun warms earth
only to be plunged back into an icy freeze.
For a while longer Winter rejoycing reigns
But Spring will soon relentlessly march in.
The wind blowing like a gentle caress
Trees waving hello to all who see them
Grass brushes against dancing bare feet
Flowers spring up and down like an excited child
Wolves howl to the dwindling sun and rising moon
The butterfly went to a party last night all through the evening. It was the drunken butterfly and he saw all different butterflies through the night at the party. Both of them were drunk in front of the butterfly that evening. He woke up the next morning and he didn't remember who gave him drinks. It was different butterflies passing for everyone at the party. His friend found out that there was another butterfly drunk that evening. After that night, one was over and he began to face it with. One of the drunk butterfly at that evening. When he went up to all the butterfly were drunk at the party. Then that night, he went home to get straight from that night all day. Then he looked back to the party to find out who gave him drinks that evening.
I walked along the prairie road
and gazed upon the skies
and saw the face of early Spring
a lady in disguise
and from her lips came tiny birds
who flew into the air
while crocus, tulip, daffodil
came tumbling from her hair
she bid the sleeping sun to rise
in shades of pink and blue
then stole away through the emerald grass
thick with morning dew
The sun dances around
Smiling brightly down at earth
Spring is here at last!
The sun’s hands reach down
After a cold winter
Buds and flowers open up
Looking at the sky with gratitude
The trees wave their branches
Saying thank you to the sun
They all agree,
Spring is their favorite season
March came in this year, like a wet feline,
Growling and mad without a sign
Of the sweet pussycat that she can be.
I wonder what made her so angry.
Winter won’t leave yet, Spring wants her turn.
March, caught in the middle begins to yearn
To be a month with no change of season.
Her stress causes me to lose my reason.
So don’t blame March if within her reign,
Everything is wild and a bit insane.
Winter wants his turn and Spring must wait
Until he is going out of the gate.
It is then you will see a swift turn around
With sweet March smiling without a frown.
The sun will shine and skies will be blue
And to this March madness, we’ll bid adieu.
For Carolyn's contest won 2nd place
Winter is here, weather has changed,
Bitter cold, mood rearranged,
Winter is here, unmoving it seems,
Tearing its needle, through the seams
Winter is here, and it’s here to stay,
Here in my mind, a world of disarray,
Winter is here, the light wont shine,
Disrupting themes, destroying minds,
Winter is here, oppression time,
Hindering us, for the depression climb
Winter is here, no room to adapt,
No one around, more room to collapse,
Winter is over, smell that clover,
The never-ending line of springtime lovers.
Today, glimpsed I, a curious sight
A mound of snow, no longer white.
It basked alone, upon brown grass
It seemed to say, this too shall pass
When greener days shall come to be
When spring soon covers every tree
With robins nests and leaves of green
This mound of snow shall cease to be.
And so, in passing by, paid my respects
To winter and to all of its effects
And bid springtime my warmest welcome.
For as long as this old earth shall spin
God has ordained each winter’s end
Yea, God has ordained each spring begin.
Remnants of Winters tendrils
reside upon the bare basalt cliffs.
Cornrows of ice cascade
washed by relentless rain.
Down pours the mana
of Spring, the Bride,
berating the laggard Winter;
expunging the beauty of ice.
The sunless muted morn aids
Winters grip on its crowning glory;
braiding wayward wisps of white
The last, lingering, lustful
remainders of Winter.
The day before Spring begins.
The wily Winter wind danced
in the face of Spring;
Chasing brittle leaves across
the straw colored lawn.
Whipping brittle branches
from the maple trees,
to fall like pick-up sticks in a childish game.
The Spring sun maintained vigilance,
non-pulsed by the murder of crows
lining the power lines;
refusing to rise to the wild winds bait.
Sunshine poured like melted butter
over the soggy soil
attempting to lure
the early risers from their sleep.