To define innocence in the
countenance of a child's smile
and love's eminence in wildflowers,
conceive infinity in exalted ocean's roar
whilst summer breezes glance splendor
flourishing jasmine and hummingbirds
amidst evermore expansive sunrises,
whence space and time ceases to exist
thereupon shall enlightenment dwell
Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016
Watching leaves cartwheel down
we meet at the bench
tucked under the trees, in the park
Unable to speak
I am feeling a squeeze in my breast
My emotions are clenched
with years of unrest
since that day that I left, empty armed
Still weak in the knees
I must sit while I watch
this child, once mine,
sit cross-legged, in light
of the late August sun
His fingers unpeel
the paper, and twine
from the gift I have brought
from a little gift shop
that I passed when I walked in the night
With the package undone,
he smiles up at me
and I see in his eyes
the wholeness of him
And I am strangled to say
the words that I could….
Would I tell him the things
that would empty those eyes
of a soft place to land ?
Now he grabs for the hand
of the mother he knows
and I thank her with eyes
before I must go
I must leave him to her
and not say the words
that would follow him home for all time
I have broken away
any hold that I had
except for the one
that chokes out the sun
on a hot August day
in the late afternoon
A leaf tumbles down, then is swept by the breeze
Only here for a moment, then gone
A Fictional Poem Based On Contest: "Long Lost Family"
And for Contest: Personal Best of 2016
Sponsored by Frank Herrera
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016
They were just children when they were diagnosed...no sun.
Condemned to living in a world without light...no fun.
One minute of sunlight could be the end.
Shadows and night time their only friend.
Who in the world would be there for them.
Who would speak up for the youth condemned.
A child stands in a darkened room,
Staring out at a faceless moon.
Fists raised toward the heavens,
Searching for answers they beckon.
Tears stream down an untanned cheek.
Feeling like nothing but an unholy freak.
Passing people point and stare.
A life was never more unfair.
A baby is born and they learn from a test
he will be just like the rest.
Trapped inside away from the sun.
Games and races he'll never run.
Copyright © Scott Williams | Year Posted 2015
My Son Moon and Star ~
Approaching the celebration of his Birth
cherishing the gift I received
within weeks of conception I knew
something amazing was in Creation ~
the Stars held a party
sending me with one of their own
Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky
It was magic It was destiny taking its flight.
In love with an October full moon
drawing and painting I liked
thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
caught in a loss of time
Hours going by as choosing my color
a wittness to three falling stars
A clear night sky sparkle's
A once Famous Star was sent
inspiring the tiny child inside ~
Never a doubt in my mind at all
child bearing was worth any pain received
yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
one to cherish and hold
My Son was born the following August ~
working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year
as the set of Leverage for 3 years .
Has done a Indie movie here
In Paris it was seen and honored
coming soon filmed in Portland ~
"The House of Last Things "
awaiting the credits , you will see
1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant
My Young Lion Mans dream ~
A proud mom I watch every show and the credits
as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
My Son & Moon and Star
A name you will all know ~
Happy Birthday to my creative Son
you will exist in my heart forever~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
Inspirational poem.. Rising Golden red sun all its way..dedicated to all
of you guys..wrote by Mrs.Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare
The Rising Red sun
As like the charming moon and luminous star fades away.
It promises to send the dynamite sun shining in the sky.
Due to which oceano pearl glitters all the day.
Praying god for the happiness in all our way.
The morning sagas made me understand, Me and my vivacious life.
But When I look back and pick up the souvenir of my childhood. Its just nostalgic. Feel like to go back to the teenage. The sustained pain is the only option left that I can’t get those days of my innocence back.
All I could make up my mind and just say, move on. Just move on.
Ray of hope chimed my heart.
Because god gifted me Something and added in my cart.
Provided me and my sincerity towards work can’t depart.
From the very day uplifted to give a quick start.
The moment I realized the magnetising power of the sun.
Felt trust on it and renovated my life again by attenuating my pains.
Rest all I expect peace my thee.
Left with the ray of hope. Bless us MY god, My lord !!!!!
Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013
Pretty Polly Petree sit on her little window seal
hoping the day would be full of fun and thrills.
It was raining and the clouds left no sun shinning
but pretty Polly Petree believed in silver linings.
So off to her room she left running, in hopes to find
some paint to make a Sun so bright and shinning.
Polly Petree painted a lovely view of the sun and flowers
to chase away all the clouds and the thunder showers.
She took and hung it in the window facing the sky and
away went the clouds and the sun waved Hi.
Butterflies and Blue Birds sat on the window's edge and
said Thank you Polly for the dryness upon our heads.
You are welcome, said Polly and I hope your day is fun
and Oh so jolly.
Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2014
Yeah I can get so hyped up with life so high I'm so freaking verbally drunk like a psycho,
Mind so wrong nothing in my vocabulary at that time in my mind can get right though,
A piece of this hate cake in this corrupt dictionary I'm going to have to take a bite though,
Whether the answer is written in hell yeah or heck no,
Im going to shoot through your deer less body like a scoped out rifle,
You just another liar if you say my words aint make your mind shake and awake with a stifle,
Im shooting sideways, up, down, so much I get high low,
I could be telling true lies when you see my fake gun ridden smiles,
I might just shoot self in head because Im getting a little too suicidal,
Im in need of God because I keep skipping planned revivals,
Im reading the rhyme master Shakespeare I aint reading the Bible,
Im playing with word bullets shiny as a burning star struggling for simple survival,
I want people to tell the truth but cant help but keep telling themselves lies though,
Hiidden demons in the book of lifes closet dont tell me how it is because I know,
I too onced played with life like a toy plastic as Tyco,
Im going to stand out in this world like the tower of Eifel,
Im going to bring out all my freaking hidden poetic files,
Im putting word ryhme puzzles together like floor tiles
Im going to do it now not later gator or after while crocodile,
I got little time in life left on the sun dial,
I got but few years or even months left before I face my ultimate trial,
But first Im going to have some fun into the night sun until I get riled,
But family comes first I must start to think of my own seed, my very own child,
I got to stop the ways of living stupid like Im out of hand so wild,
I must drink from the fountain of life like the Egyptians do from the Nile,
Pull my own way out this ****ing trash, this bull *****pile,
I got to stay strong in the mean time because everything in life takes a little while,
Sometimes I dont give a **** about nobody because it feels as if I have nothing to live for, but now I got a child I would die for
So now I must keep living because if I die I know I would leave behind a child behind that I would cry for,
I must walk that road less traveled like a car breaking down on the open road still trying to idle,
Walking amongst greats is going to be my own personal hypo,
I will walk strong in the days that I die in my last UNSEEN MILES......
Copyright © Travis Lone Hill | Year Posted 2012
It's a November
when I find myself walking
My hand holding yours
Side by side arms swaying
Your little fingers interlocking with mine.
I believe it is a happy day.
I think it shows on your little sun-tanned face.
I feel it myself from deep within.
Slowly welling up like a spring of water
From a dry ground, long athirst.
I see the sun walking along gently in pace with us
Touching your brown nose and passing your limbs.
Blessing you with a soft radiance and blissful joy a child can only know.
Your school uniform lighter than cerulean sky
Matching your gaiety, perfecting a mother-child moment.
Dotting the passing clouds with pure colors of your innocence and laughter.
Gigantic floating cotton balls of clouds
like stringed balloons; oh, please hold onto them,
cease 'em before away they fly.
A moment to treasure when things aren't as happy as they should.
A many of this I pray to come,
A joyful carefree walk with my little boy;
Now, a mother's hand held by her small son.
Copyright © Wendy Meyer | Year Posted 2013
Eight times the earth went ‘round the sun -
Our world had only just begun
To know a parent’s joy;
To have and hold and kiss a face,
And feel a child’s sweet warm embrace
While under God’s employ.
The time we had was brief but bright
With toys and games and walks at night,
And pitches on the lawn;
What zest for life he showed so well,
Who ran in fields like a gazelle
Or like the nimblest fawn.
But then one day a storm arose,
And struck our child from head to toes
From fever and a chill;
In haste the doctors tested him,
Which proved his chance to live was slim
With no known cure or pill.
O precious child who lay in bed,
With wrinkled brow and fevered head,
A rose among wild flowers;
We came to him and held his hand,
And kissed his face where tears did land
On cheeks for many hours.
I still recall the words my son
Spoke last as I had just begun
To brighten up his room;
“Do not be sad. I’m here with God
With clothes so white and joy abroad,
Forever from this gloom.”
Right then his life was taken there,
Assuring us not to despair
Of where his soul was sent;
And now we wait upon the Lord -
While trusting Him in deed and word,
As our lives now are spent.
Copyright © Paul Ray | Year Posted 2014
The heart of a child glows, noble as the drift
Of morn, yearning to learn from birdsong’s tales
And wandering in glee, such curiosity: the familiar
Scent of pine varies like his natural movement;
While racy toes hop along an orchard, his giggle
Chanting life’s mystique, time’s artistry etched
On an innocent yet wise spirit-being.
For wise is the heart of a child that listens
Intuitively to air’s echo, the accompaniment
From his breath speaking only purity of thought
Without deceit or adult-like fakery: like so,
Night birds croon in deep esteem,
When moonlight leads him home… till
Burst of sunrise shines on a child, utterly righteous,
Impeccably truthful about each insight
That makes his world ever authentic.
Sun Shines On the Righteous Contest
Written for Seren Roberts 4/15/2016
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016
(A Children's Poem)
I sit on the bank
and dangle my toes
in the cool waters of the stream
I lie back and close my eyes
feel the wind caress my face
and allow myself to dream
While the grass cushions me
I listen to the birds sing
and the water rippling past
I feel the butterfly on my arm
and I think to myself
I only wish this could last
I open my eyes
watch the clouds floating by
hear the buzzing of the bees
and, as I lie there
I whisper a prayer
make this day last, please
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
horizon sunset --
into the blast of the wind
she entrust her dreams
Copyright © Shirley Candy | Year Posted 2013
Born to this world in sixty-one
Another child of the sun
I entered in the dead of night
To breathe the air and see the light
Though rooted in the Netherlands
Together we would make a stand
The first son and the third of five
How good it was to be alive
From May until say Labor Day
The sun would call me out to play
So I begin to drink it in
And let it penetrate my skin
I' d climb the tallest tree in sight
Pretending I was taking flight
I'd skin my knee and lick the blood
And rub the pain away with mud
Referred to as the middle class
Though what it meant I didn't ask
But one thing that was not in doubt
We never had to do without
So it was off to school for me
A place void of fond memories
No Ritalin for remedy
The classroom was like jail to me
The bell meant I had been paroled
My chair the first one getting cold
The clock was now my friend at last
With freedom just beyond the glass
Now entering the junior high
I learned of Lucy In The Sky
While Dylan spoke of rolling stones
My hair grew to my collar bone
The girls were filling out so nice
My studies had to sacrifice
Was told i saw through bedroom eyes
A trait that must be utilized
The party scene would suit me fine
Preferring whiskey over wine
While using every pick-up line
I broke some hearts as they did mine
My adolescence came and went
I'd say that it was time well spent
But when I think of what should be
I hear the highway calling me
While standing on the overpass
My Chevy Novas' low on gas
I'm always looking to the west
A yearning burning in my chest
As Robert Plant sang "Ramble On"
I couldn't help but sing along
So needing to comply my fix
I stood beside I-Ninety-Six
Had Arizona on the brain
As I looked back at my domain
My mother felt this day would come
But knew where I was coming from
With just the clothing on my rack
My thumb would have to have my back
A mile down I caught a ride
That brought me to the Great Divide
It took a truck and seven cars
Five days of sun and four of stars
Heard "Free Bird" on the radio
The lyrics tugging at my soul
The last girl in particular
Would take a shine to me for sure
She pulled over and made a nest
And slowly got herself undressed
So leaving at the crack of dawn
We wonder where the night had gone
My destination now in view
We said goodbye as lovers do
I walked away across the sand
One with the sun as I had planned
My tracks were all I left behind
To follow if you're so inclined
Copyright © james younger | Year Posted 2015
Boy Fish Haiku
Flood crashes over rocks
Brook flips fish up as dinner
Boy smiles, caught by sun
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
Not under a Banyan tree
I drink coffee under an elm tree, one of many in the avenue; filtered sunlight
makes shifting pattern on the pavements, and the sun loses its cruel power.
A willowy woman walks into the only café where one can smoke, she likes to
drink coffee with her cigarette, her dog sits by the door looking in waiting.
A woman in her sixties who wears a long flowering dress, plenty of bracelets
and rings, too exotic to be Portuguese, is coming up the road. Married three
times, first to an army officer, from an aristocratic family, then to a Swiss
engineer, who built ski-lifts in the Alps. Her third husband is a poet and that
makes her sigh (downhill all the way dear) She frets about her daughter, who
is forty and not yet married. She had hoped her child would wed into
lofty society, but now she wishes her only offspring will find a man with
a steady job; not a cook or a waiter though, one must draw a line somewhere.
She has a glass of beer shows me her latest bracelet, bought this morning;
she smiles happy as a child as the sun goes on shining and leaves on elm trees
are deep, cooling green.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2011
Sitting inside on this rainy day
I wish the sun would come out
and let me play.
My toys are in the yard outside
and they are soaked and wet.
It would be nice to have someone
to play with or a furry pet.
The clouds are so dark and move
way to slow.
I can see the sun but the clouds
won't let it show.
Maybe tomorrow the sun will dry
all the rain away.
Maybe I will get a pet and we can
play and play, and play.
Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2016
~~This poem contains 74 syllables~~enjoy!!
The sun rays caresses my eyesight
If I… had an interview with the sun,
Would it last about 74 seconds?
Will it count as an eloquent conversation?
Why does the sun have so many layers?
If I… could have a vacation in space,
Many things would catch my eye – the sun
Would make me BLIND!
Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2013
The poet leaves his winter study and roams around mountains and deep woods,
The painter sold his pictures and is off to sketch on heath and highlands,
The child runs through sun kissed meadows and across dusty golden commons,
The lovers walk down country lanes and wander about each other, on mead's,
The man of the road smiles as he knows the night will not be bitterly cold,
The nightingale sings a haunting melody bringing tears to the lovers eyes,
The trees swaying in a breeze an oak drops acorns, the child collects them,
The mountains capped with snow unleashes a stream of fine words from the poet,
The heath and highlands glow with beautiful greenery and the painter paints,
The birds swoop from bough to bough the poet sees and he writes some prose,
The man of the road listens to bird song his eyes mist bringing sad memories
The evening sun falls behind the horizon a beautiful sunset the lovers kiss,
The poet sees the sunset and writes about dark golden evenings and warm nights,
The painter mixes yellow and black and that captures this wonderful picture,
The boy leaves the woods to go home as it is nearly time for his evening meal,
The man of the road lays down deep in the woods his overcoat is his blanket,
The lovers walk arm in arm as the day darkens they make their way home slowly,
The painter cleans his brushes and carefully lays down his canvas in the dark,
The poet is happy he has written beautiful words he lays in his bed reflecting,
The boy is fast asleep dreaming of the fantastic day he enjoyed in the woods,
The six unconnected people that were unknowingly were connected sleep soundly.
Copyright © Terry Trainor | Year Posted 2013
One and only, great sweet dream
Lullaby, my sun beam
Moonlight’s music, sky’s first kiss
Stars and magic, my one bliss
You’re just a little seed; you’ll grow into your skin
And be filled with love from both hearts within
You’re just a tiny seed deep within the soil
I only hope that you didn’t spoil
I dreamt that you grew as tall as a tree
I dreamt that you were always there with me
But dreams don’t always become true
And I have never got to be with you
You’re just a seed; you’ll grow up very strong
I only wish that I wasn’t wrong
You’re just a small lovely seed
In four months you started to bleed
My one and only, hold me very tight
I only wish that everything was right
Lovely infant, dear young dream
Golden daylight, my sun beam
You are the reason that I will always cry
Why did you ever have to say goodbye?
Dying more than ever before
Every time I miss you more
A first child that wasn’t born
Dead, now all I do I mourn
Baby only four months old
A treasure I never got to hold
Big hole in my heart tonight
Yelling “Why didn’t you hold me tight?”
Copyright © Julie Alcin | Year Posted 2013
You were born three ears a go,
A beautiful angel in the eye of the storm.
I feel so lucky to watch you and behold,
Spreading your rays of warmth form the soul.
I was just a person living unknown,
Until I saw you breathing and you took a hold,
Of my life and all that I know.
My life changed in so many ways,
Child of the sun spreading your rays,
Sharing the wisdom and higher love.
I’ll do everything, all for your good,
Unselfishness is my only rule.
I’ll cherish each moment we spend till the day,
You decide to part on your own way.
My love will follow your beautiful heart,
For mine beats only for you from the start.
Copyright © Rytis Gervickas | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
You are my sun
My little rainbow
Those little cheeks
Those little hands
You hold my heart
I hold yours
In my hands in delight
You are my sun
A brightened day
By your incomplete smile
It means the day
The light of day
You are my sun
My day in colours
I care for you
Not only by heart
I wish to feed you
Give you baths
Hold your hand to school.
You are my sun
Not only today
When you're old and scary
I'll be your light
I'll be the land you step on.
The soil the sand.
I love you.
To my little unborn sibling
Copyright © Nothando Ngoman | Year Posted 2016
The footsteps of children in beach
When fresh salt water breeze to their face reach
Caressing their cheeks and sharing their joy
And rising like tide to reach the sky.
The portal of this pristine feeling engraved in heart
Rises the happiness like the Sun in horizon bright
To sail the ship of their wish to the distant land
Where they spread their culture with different brand.
And at dusk to feel the pleasantness of the twilight
After finishing their task of the day at sight
Spending each day of their life this way
The light will shine along their path all the way.
Copyright © Venkatesh Raghava | Year Posted 2016
Emily, just a girl,
yet so full of dreams.
She always wanted to fly,
or then so it seems.
One day she claimed
that she wanted to fly,
no one said she couldn't,
so she's never questioned why.
She began to fly,
oh, to see those sparkling eyes!
She knew her dream could be achieved,
just see how she flies!
The world is not warmed
with one lone sunbeam,
fill the children with possibilities
to fly...to dream.
Copyright © red barchettadrive | Year Posted 2015
These walls are blinding,
Holding no reflection,
Revealing no tone, shade, or hue.
Swallowing all life and personality within.
These walls are weighted with sadness and neglect.
Wonders and horrors of the world barred off.
Alone she sits, needle at bedside.
Along with the spark in her eyes this four-cornered room has long since gone dark.
Her sun once brightened her world,
Illuminating the four-cornered abyss.
But alas, the night always comes for the day's bright sky.
Alone he sits, at her bedside,
He's lost her again hasn't he?
Day breaks, the sun is rising,
A little boy calls for his mother to come home.
Copyright © Shelton Brown | Year Posted 2012
When the sun goes down, and the breeze freshens,
when the night fills the sky, I’ll then feel at home,
as I’ve none of my own.
And I’ll feel as though I belong.
When the moon comes up and lights the night
and the stars dot the heavens, I stare transfixed
in awe of what I see
as I silently wish with all my might.
To see the sun rise, not in the morning as all else,
but in my mind or in my heart,
is what can put me to rest.
In a corner of my mind, where no-one ever sees,
lies a child in fear.
Of the terror of the day,
and the mysteries of the night.
And as I watch that child grow old and alone,
I wonder why the light never shines in on him.
When the sun brightens the darkest of days
and the moon and stars illuminate the night,
why must anyone live in the darkness of the
mind, which no light can reach?
What can block the light,
what can break the spell,
what can move this one to freedom?
Why must the fight never leave the mind,
why must the child grow old?
Why do the stars never twinkle?
Why do the leaves fall off;
why does the river taste like tears?
Why does the mind ache and hurt?
Why does the heart pull up curt:
Why does my soul feel pain?
Copyright © Anthony Amero | Year Posted 2010
I do not know?
A child in the summer sun,
Is filled with joy and glory.
A child in the summer sun,
Holds their book of stories.
A child in winters grasp,
Will drink their hot coco,
A child in winters grasp,
Will play and say go,go go!
It's okay, to be a child,
Or a grown man,
It's okay to be a child,
As long as you're yourself.
It's okay, to be a child
Copyright © Ashlyn Mundell | Year Posted 2016