When fields gleam aureate and song birds sing
and transient stars in clusters scintillate,
when sweet perennials are coaxed by spring
to blossom forth, he comes with sprightly gait.
He wends his way along the mountain trails
past opalescent rush of streams and rills,
goat-footed, on the paths that ribbon dales
and wind around and up and down small hills.
Then nymphs appear as, through the woods, he trips
to flower-smitten meadows. Fancy-free,
he leads them with his reed held to his lips,
till blithely they embrace his rhapsody.
So hear the music; watch the wood nymphs spin. . .
Then captured by sheer merriment, join in!
For Nathan A.'s ANY POEM GOES Poetry Contest
Floating down with grace and ease
Carried off by the Autumn breeze
Rich in hues of orange and red
Landing in the flower bed
What once was buzzing full of life
Now succumbs to the pruning knife
Staring up at the wilted rose
Another season comes to close
Looking for memories of this day
Not forgetting her fun filled stay
Lying amongst the rocks and sticks
I'm the one the little girl picks
Hurries home with the one she took
Placing it in her poetry book
Fear not the fierce wind, o gentle heart
Though it may rattle the eaves
And give no ear to its whispers with nothing to impart
But shallow promises that hang, like dried, parched leaves
Listen to its mournful wails on the way to some distant shore
Leaving in its trail, the harsh rawness of a chill
And envy not; give pity instead and be sure to keep no scores
For the warmth of a gentle heart is by far, richer still
For who can fathom the baleful howls invading valleys below;
Billowing across the fragile earth and her boundless seas?
Is it in anguish that it protests; who can really know?
Or is it a mere expression of a mighty power that seethes?
Yet, judge not, o gentle heart, but like a blade of grass amidst a storm
Lay calmly into the wind; rely not upon your strength to stay strong
Her aqua skirt flows in the sky,
Like curtains of the gods they play;
A Monet brushstroke low to high
- Like life itself they go away.
But for now they dodge and weave
As in a phosphorescent pool;
A flirting dance before they leave,
Behind a veil of colored tulle.
Behind the veil are sapphire eyes,
Behind the skirt, there lies the night.
The curtains are a brief disguise;
Seductive show of pure delight.
Now deeper to the heavens drawn,
Within the night, before it's gone.
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~
Earth’s sphere of fire bids adieu to me
As dying embers gleam across the sea
In rare hues reflected by autumn trees,
Swirling in motion with October’s breeze.
I feel the joy this season has to share
In golden harvest that the branches bear,
And I am thankful for this blessed year,
For divine abundance I share so dear.
The sun and moon take on a special glow
As thunder clouds move swiftly with the flow.
Yes, autumn coaxes feelings to revive,
Those mem’ries of past seasons still alive.
When autumn spreads her dress of lacey frost
I know, in breathless beauty, I’ll be lost.
© 2013 Connie Marcum Wong
The amaryllis yawns in bed of white
The fall of day paints shadows on the rose
Each flower is a ward of solemn night
Their gentle sleep upon which none impose
Beyond the halls and down the drowsy stair
Into the hallowed stillness of the lake
Illuminating every pebble there
The moon believes that no one is awake
Yet bittern watches all with eyes of gold
Alighted new in absence of the light
And with his lusty call so clear and bold
He breaks the quietude and then takes flight
A ripple in the water seeks the shore
It meets the rocks and ripples there no more
Leaves twirl through the chilly air
Leaving naked tree limbs flailing
Soft sweaters cover me with care
Winds caress with gentle breezing
Crackling and popping beneath my feet
When I walk across the dirt pathway
Colorful leaves even cover the street
Creating oak, poplar and birch bouquet
Squirrels carry nuts into their haunts
While birds begin to fly toward the south
Melancholy feelings start to taunt
Bringing suspicions of winter’s mouth
Autumn is a season of colorful charms
When harvest begins at all the farms
©2014 by Regina Riddle
Written on July 24, 2014
I grew up amongst every kind of plant and flower,
Beyond our gate was the garden of dear mother;
This Eden was colourful, tangled and so sensational,
So erratic, untamed and just totally unmanageable.
Mother knew the Latin names of each blooming posy,
The iris, lily, rose, aster, dahlia, marigold and peony;
I really loved the purple larkspur and pink gardenia,
Mother said she loved them all but adored camellia.
Brightly painted butterflies danced and glided happily,
And the nesting birds all sang their songs so loudly;
We had an old swing and we would sit and sip tea,
In the shade of the trees, just my mother and me.
O to turn back the clock of time, moving and clicking,
To be in my mother's garden again, a child dreaming.
July 2, 2014
Entered in the contest, Any poem under 15 lines, Poet Destroyer
The Morning Sun Speaks
Vainly, I smile at a fine morning sun
ponder today's tasks waiting to be done
Embrace and savor this very sweet morn
enjoy life, that is why we were first born
Sparrow drinking at my lone bird fountain
clouds soaring into another mountain
I see the carefree bird fly far away
consider the high price I dearly pay
Happily my soul spoke to the red sun
life races onward as I freely run
My toils are but life tokens to be spent
spirit lives with our love paying no rent
The morning sun spoke yet again to me
live, love and grab hold of life yet to be!
Robert J. Lindley, 08-27-2014
*A small lake named Serenity am I,
well hidden here among the fragrant pines;
reflecting the **cerulean of sky
till Sun behind the distant peak reclines.
***Now humming bugs crepuscular emerge
to greet the twilight’s creeping. Next a fawn
has soundlessly appeared upon my verge.
A lapping in the stillness. . . then she’s gone.
*Dawn arrives. I’m longing to be painted
**once again by sun, the color azure.
Jubilant that I remain untainted,
***I croon to nature, rippling my rapture.
New creatures on two legs disrupt my peace!
Who comes here? Must my serenade now cease?
(For the Designed by Devise Poetry Contest of Debbie Guzzi)
* Stanza one: Personification & metaphor of the lake
**Alliteration of S in line one
The alliteration continues with the words small/serenity/cerulean/sky/Sun/diStant
*** Stanza two: Assonance of the sound U as in “cup” with humming and bugs
Also the assonance of the ee sound in greet/creeping/soundlessLY/appeared/shE’s
* In Stanza three: Dawn is added to the personification. The lake continues to be
Personified in the entire stanza.
**Also there is Assonance throughout with the U sound
again: Once/ sUn/ cOlor/ jubilAnt as well as the long A sound of line 3’s remain & untainted plus line 4’s nAture.
***Alliteration of R/P sounds line 4:croon/rippling/rapture.
Seeds of sorrow lay scattered along our path
so oft intertwined with Nature's wrath
Yet till the fields of dreams we simply must
for soon , so very soon we turn to dust
Green is the color of majestic newborn fields
as man enjoys fruits of earthen harvested yields
The sweat and pain given is the simple cost
thus we survive so ALL humanity is not lost
Life requires our own ground be rightly prepared
ignorance is the calamity so many are ensnared
We eat the dust long before we bake the bread
when we seek ease oft great sorrow we get instead
We plant our own seeds to dream to reap anew
yet we all pay, life is not free, tis so very true!
Robert Lindley, 10-01- 2014
note: Inspired by this morn's reading of Debbie Guzzi's
super fine poem , a great sonnet -- The Sowing
I give thanks for this inspiration and the joy in reading
both her sonnets this great morn. Certainly brought me
out of a slump and crazy haze these last few days..
Amazing how sometimes another poet can blow one away and change
another's entire attitude.
Morning Dew Glistens in Anticipation
Glistening of gentle morning dew
soft breeze flowing sweetly along
Thoughts again of life and you
melodies that play a mental song
Trees wrapping this beautiful morn
joyful thoughts now so newly born
Sky filters down its sunlit rays
birds chirp all about on such days
My joy lost has now been found
as the natural world spins around
Life takes on a sheen of the new
Again my happy thoughts turn to you
Our lives joined, paths forever hold
this deep love that makes us both so bold!
Robert J. Lindley 09-24-2014
note: Took a Nature hike today. Saw God's beauty all around.
Very soon I found myself thinking ,yes, that my life came around
when my wife married me. As if a Spring shower had soothed the
parched ground. Giving nourishment for the seeds of bliss
to sprout on up and grow.
God, Nature's glow, my wife's love and beauty , our son's
smiles today made this world turn from bleak and cold to
sunshine and a slice Of heaven. Thank God for Nature's
beauty and its sweet inspirations.
My brother-in-law David was sent home to die tonight. They can do no more , the cancer will end his life, most likely in the next few days...
I couldn't go there tonight. The helpless feeling slays me so!
I hope to have the courage to go tomorrow morn...
A million crystals made by God
Now float in space like finest lace.
Each one perfection, never flawed -
Unique in six-fold symmetry,
Then fall to earth in cold embrace
Where moonlight dances brilliantly.
Reflecting back prismatic light
Like nature's crystal chandelier,
Embellishing this winter night ,
Then landing on your blushing cheek
And melting there just like a tear.
Still drifting with the night's mystique
A million crystals made by God
Reflecting back prismatic light.
Cornish Sonnet in Iambic Tetrameter
Craig Cornish, written March 10, 2014
For Nette Onclaud's Crystal Contest
The sweet notes of a bird drift down to me
from one grand oak that shines with day’s first rays.
I look up at blue sky and that old tree.
What joy, for at a glad lark I now gaze!
The lark sings on. Her song fills up my heart.
I turn to see a deer whose head is bent
to drink at a cool stream; the view is art. . .
Sun’s beams, the deer and lark from God were sent
to cheer me at this time. My eyes are drawn
to fields far off and near them - hills that gleam
in that gold stream of light, the blaze of dawn!
My thoughts now waft as if they were a dream.
This day of bliss I wish to keep - and so -
I sit to write of it in dawn’s bright glow.
Written 1/13/13 For the One to One contest of David Williams
(if only it were really this nice and sunny today!)
I've been dreaming of a sonnet in the cradle of the breeze
I've been dreaming in the silence of her feathered nest of dream
perched in peaceful solitude autumn falls with golden leaves
where hymn's flow free within a quest along the winding stream
Has my presence ever crossed your mind in lonely nights of need
of placid love refined in gold where one desires thee
a place where time has come to stall of gifts of love and deed
in lust I wait in colors of spring for her my sweet jubilee
In last breath fare of desperate need my eyes have finally seen
my fair young lady from distant hallow floating near within my dream
I hear her voice in loving song with tales of gifts foreseen
with silken wings she flutters free to rest along pure stream
I've been dreaming of a sonnet in the cradle of the breeze
I've been dreaming in the silence far beyond the graceful trees..
There’s scarlet within the warm sky tonight
A crimson feel that envelopes alright
I love the sight of every form of red
Yellow seeps in with orange that bled
World moves effortlessly along with this
The colors of majestic times you wish
I see the sky this dusk with awe and glee
Seemingly to make me complete and free
A crimson sky beams with peace and delight
Sun dips into the ground and out of sight
Birds recognize this beauty and dips down
Reaches in the heart of the glow around
Tranquil with love through the entry parlor
The sky is filled with an awesome color
Contest: CRIMSON SKY old/new peom
Sponsor: S. K. A. T.
The chill of night holds old remorse
Like some old song I've heard before
And though a half moon knows the chords
Such crescent music strays off course
Through dark of night all eyes are blinded
Such slender light, so small upturned
With strains of sadness so aligned
Where even stars weep sad nocturnes
Please moon, become the whole you are
I need your lamp to see me through
Although there are one million stars
This night is lonely without you
So slight your smile that fills the eye
Each falling star will search the sky
For Russell's Contest: Moon Is My Muse
A sand-dune says to the wind that moves
Softly, passing him-by:
''Take me with thee, through valleys and groves
Whence birds frolick and fly;
Deep into a land of rain and snow,
Is where I'd rather go,
For this place holds no charm and I say,
I'm wont to fly away...''
Hearing which, the whirl-wind lifts
Herself to swiftly glide,
Whilst in fear, the sand-dune shifts,
Seeking somewhere to hide:
But before another gust, like a child feeling quite lost,
Is strewn about the sullen land by the one he did accost....
So sweet the scent of gentle rain
That cleanses skin on nature’s breast –
The patter of its soft refrain
Awakens earth that was at rest.
The blood of gods, its fragrance pure,
Feeds the womb of hungry spores
And floating free, their fresh allure;
Bouquets of life that breed and soar,
To quench the memories of we
Who now run carefree in the fields
And drink in all we smell and see,
The redolence of natures yields.
Again the soft rain gently falls
The sweet ambrosia we recall.
Craig Cornish, Written Nov. 11, 2013
For Nette Onclaud's Fragrance of Rain Contest
Wind, your double essence is well-known.
Whispered summer breezes you exhale;
Then suddenly you turn. You surge and wail,
Expelling rage, you bluster or you moan.
Your brute relentless nature then is shown
For you become a cyclone, Hound of Hell,
Or show yourself a monsoon, squall, or gale.
Unquelled, a devil’s wrath with dust is sown.
As you intone, we’re stricken by your power.
Whipping wind, who thrashes us below,
You’re merciless until that final hour
Your vehemence ceases. Gust, I hate you so.
You scour Earth for those who next must cower.
Two-faced tempest, most indeed you BLOW!
For the NETTED by WORDS: HER SILVERED, TENDER WEBPoetry Contest
I used the theme found in "Wheeze of a Wind" which had been entered
by Nette in another of Cyndi MacMillan's contests:
Timeless Yet Contemporary, A Sonnet Thang
Note to Nette: My sonnet cannot hold a candle to yours. I think your contemporary one was better than my traditional one; however, I hope you can feel my anger about wind in it!! I just love how you did your modern sonnet for Cyndi!! BTW, I MISS you. Where ARE you anyway???
On winter’s breast the bright white snow does fall
and sparkle o’re the fields and rolling hills.
Sweet spring is welcomed with the robin’s call
and colored blossomed trees with all their frills.
In summer’s warmth when deepest greens will grow
and frame the rose’s brilliant crimson hues,
is when the stage is set for autumn’s glow
with all the color nature can infuse.
It’s in this crisp fall air my senses ride,
crescendos in this symphony of sights,
upon an easle backed by azure sky,
where red and orange leaves take frenzied flight,
and I herein an apple scented breeze
taste this day that sets my spirit free.
The wind blow carried me away
To a valley, where silence dwelt,
In sleeplike calm, I waited the day
Love would also be carried astray.
He will arrange his arrows and bow
Beside the rose tree where I lay
And listening to a melody low
He would replace the sun’s glow.
I would wake up but with my lips
Dried because he declined me a kiss,
Beneath the hill where night sleeps
To a new dawn, hear the star’s gossips:
Love rather be bounded by a chain
Than keep wandering freely in vain.
A lowly blossom, striving to sustain
her beauty in the early morning mist,
the crocus, craving moisture to maintain
her stoic fight 'gainst winter's iron fist.
A lowly mollusc slithers 'neath his shell,
he slowly weaves, and leaves a silver trail,
antennae primed and ready for the knell,
when sparrows poke and peck his coat of mail.
Creatures and plants in the midst of the fray,
searching for sustenance, dying of thirst,
staving off hunger, say, is there a way
for them to be blessed, not feeble and cursed?
predator, prey, both the strongest and weakest,
who will prevail in the fight to live longest?
The cityscape flowed into a winding trail
that took me into the green heart of the park
and I shrugged off a mindset overly stale,
as light teased a creek that stowed waters dark.
Weak, I found a seat, low and ergonomic,
a stump that offered me one hundred rings,
so I sat and listened to sisters reed and willow
touched by the teachings their humility brings.
Others walked by, most plugged into iPods
They never noticed the blue heron that stood
deep in holy shadows painted by our God
now cast aside for wireless serpents. Woods
shrink as new iDols sow unoriginal sins,
Technology’s church grows just east of Eden.