Featuring:) Giorgio Veneto
She writes about Fall's beauty in the rain
The falling raindrops' dance ascribing thence
Bespoken verse that lightens her refrain
before the time they met - her steps commence.
She listens to the soft and rhythmic thrum,
her love turned to escape and cloudy string
Where nimbus mistletoe fell, tears to become
Their kiss of Autumn was symbolic ring.
The first light cotton mists with summer rays
While skyward cheerful laughs adorn the land,
their ceremonial dance diffuses grays,
affectionate embrace, where dreams expand.
Upon September's sky the raindrops gleam
With half of hidden Sun to laugh and beam.
Enjoy the FRAGRANCE OF RAIN
FRAGRANCE OF RAIN
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
five lightnings coming out of the blue
more black clouds hanging in a queue
life's reality is really stretching
loads of inner strength continuously fetching
thought for a long time I took it all
again being tackled and another fall
skydiving below former grounds
silences the cold killing sounds
inner strength the leading voice
not giving' in again a choice
fighting every single second
the only way to go on I reckon
life's so much more than sightseeing
it's all about the intense desire of being
(c) Elly Wouterse
Exquisite, this expectation as dusk
mellows each ruffle on her robe de style*,
warm her expressions, candid, unrushed
for lake waters return that sunny smile.
A hem trails the shore with tulles of twilight,
overcome, the hush of angels almost cries
at grace in upsweeps and poise held as night
steals her away with a sorrowed sigh.
Dark this vista til she yields her jewels,
moonstone and topaz, citrine and ruby,
all her wisdom to forever unfurl
in fireworks, a blaze of poetry.
Love left its mark, Heaven is now altered
by a flourish that brightens even the stars.
*** We will miss you, Linda Marie, but your poetry, light, love of life, will continue to live on... GODSPEED....
* A Robe de style is a long gown with a wide, billowing skirt
the magnificent autumn-sun bursts at its seams
the icy october-wind blows her soft-cold breeze
one of the most impressive and mesmerizing teams
stumbling over each other making me warm and freeze
fragrances of fresh grass mowed for the last time this year
the muted-green foliage whispers with leaves drying out
the hidden dark-red blackberries wither behind protective thorns of fear
the last flight of geese flying over another scout
rare but visible some glorious leaves of gold
the cloudless sky colors the very rare whiter shade of blue
the bike trail I'am on partly covered with wet leaf mold
the passing summer is now really saying adieu
while the wintery wind and summer-sun bicker for attention
I'm overwhelmed by this whiter shade of blue's fourth dimension
Dutch composer&harp player Anne Vanschothorst wrote a piece for harp and recorded her version of "A whiter shade of blue"
The link to hear HER "A whiter shade of blue" under "About this poem".
Procol harum's "Whiter shade of pale"(I am that old- or young?) is on of the songs on my list of most played songs on my mp3-player.. when hearing this song on a sunny autumnal day I was inspired to add my color to the palet.......... I saw a new'kind of blue and wrote this poem..
barefooted on the beach
listen to the sea's preach
water waves softly caress
from toe to top wiping stress
wind offers a cool breeze
sun and clouds gently tease
in blue and dots off white
heaven shows her arc-light
evening sky paints dreams
sunset's cooling down beams
waves whispered their song
while dreaming I could walk along
disrupted lifetimes are out of hand
dreamed steps not longer printed in sand
(c) Elly Wouterse
Twee/DULL da/DUM da/DUM da /DUM DUM
jeers at the Dutchess, then exhumes jewels
from sightless eyes. Five and Seven, forbidden,
bleed out, for the Queen beheads those unschooled
in her ways. Cornered, the ole turtle mocks
his Soup's new lexicon, using small words,
but behind the scenes, he damns even clocks
for changing with tides. Poor Dodo, still absurd,
drowns hapless guests in sent-a-meters of tea,
for he knows best and trusts his ex-tincts,
though the hatter is maddened by duplicity.
So a chair empties. A cat sadly winks.
New wonderlands await. She's out the door...
Cuz Alice just won't live here anymore.
My new alter-ego, SYNISTER TRENDENCIES, will occasionally make an appearance
on soup. Best to leave the more .... in/sight/full and inciting views to poetry.
Questions? Fire away!
Hugs sent out, even to turtles.
You were a shining Star.
Few of many in the sky.
Looking up so very high,
Not knowing why you are.
Close and set you are far.
Spinning flames knot a tie,
I note a pattern just like pi.
Colliding with me you spar.
So burn it up and burn away,
Sow your heart upon a plane.
Chart your distance in the clay.
Burn it all up then call it sane.
The explosion in the sky is His death.
All burned up He has no last breath.
(R) Registered: 2013 Ann Rich
the reflections of a surface
noticing what I missed without disturbance
focusing for a third look
not counting the silent moments it took
greenest duckweed curls around
darkest black circles crowned
with a mirrored picture
of a faraway sky and trees' tincture
particles of green parade
the space in between a shade
times frames of the place above
lightening gestures shove
a little pond in the park
a simple view life's spark
© Elly Wouterse.
© Elly Wouterse.
The story behind this poem @ "About this poem"
Life's waves washed me upon your Island shore
Tossed by rolling seas, a torn heart maroon
You found me, the sea and sand no more
Gave caring love in your sheltered lagoon
I had nothing, no jeweled treasure to share
No diamonds bright, rubies red, fragile heart
You clothed me in reason, a coat I wear
For this gift, a promise, we'll never part
My love though humble, is forever free
I place it well without reserve or fear
On your heart's altar, I leave a plea
And only ask, you keep it well my dear
Life had cast me from its brigantine deck
Now found, survivor of my heart's shipwreck
For the contest Islands
sponsored by Anthony Slausen
At some point, my legs begin to converse
of time spent on the trail, rest now needed,
For like a horse's labors exceeded,
the strength mere food and water can't traverse
Beyond exhaustion, repose will reverse
Thus respite, backpack set down and relieved
of duties, containing my home achieved,
until such time as rested legs endorse
my return to trails, and onward I go;
Traveling far Appalachia’s way,
witness to wonders and all living things,
in far towns and altitude, well below,
where nature’s flora and colors bouquet;
To motivate legs that have become wings.
Written: April 25, 2014
for Craig Cornish's Miltonic Sonnet Contest