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Best Chorus Poems

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New Chorus Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Chorus poems are below this new poems list.

Celestial Chorus by Capitano, Phil
Their Chorus of Pleasure by Roberts, Seren
Cantamell's Chorus by Fross, James
Morning Chorus by Pashley, Zoe
Birds Chorus by Negron, Nayda Ivette
unnamed song's sexy chorus by Halliday, Mark J.
The Chorus of forgotten Voices by Terdue, Ginger Amee
A CHORUS OF A WAITING MAIDEN by Osuji, Chibueze
Bird's Chorus by Bayles, Mike
Paper Doll Chorus Line by Roark, Odin

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The Best Chorus Poems

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Night Silence

Twilight evokes my tranquility and silence of the night, with my peaceful guidance between the moon and the stars, the placid eclipse in the universe is so calm and bright, I play my melodies so gently on my acoustic guitar. With my peaceful guidance between the moon and the stars, there is a symphony shining through the constellations, I play my melodies so gently on my acoustic guitar, between sundown and nightfall there is a correlation. There is a symphony shining through the constellations, I feel a tune so vibrant with echoes of a midnight chorus, between sundown and nightfall there is a correlation, I see the paragon moon reflect equanimity before us. I feel a tune so vibrant with echoes of a midnight chorus, the stillness exclaims compassion for the world to see, I see the paragon moon reflect equanimity before us, Mother Nature has created nocturnal brilliance, so free. The stillness exclaims compassion for the world to see, for some the silence of nightfall seems so hard to find, Mother Nature has created nocturnal brilliance, so free, as the halcyon dusk sets, ready for the destiny of mankind. For some the silence of nightfall seems so hard to find, the placid eclipse in the universe is so calm and bright, as the halcyon dusk sets, ready for the destiny of mankind, twilight evokes my tranquility and silence of the night. New or Old 5-Poetry Contest Sponsor: Eve Roper Date Written: June 14, 2016


Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016

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FAVE POETS MEET

Meeting my homegirls Wilma Neels
and Kim Van Breda with shrieks and squeals
hasty introductions and we're on our way
for a night of reading at Poetry Café

We've Yasmin to thank for arranging the meet
with fellow Soupers, a veritable treat
Yasmin the sneak had their names withheld
we're apprehensive yet still by curiosity propelled

My fingers are crossed to meet Eileen 
fave poetess mine, the Passionate Queen
dare I wish to meet hamsome Ryerson
not to mention Anne-Lise Andresen?

On first glance the café seems somewhat rowdy
from one of the corners a chorus of "Howdy!!!"
heaven help!!  I'm rooted to the spot
all my fave poets from the Souper pot

The Queen of Passion, my special friend
Eileen Ghali, an angel heaven-sent
with open arms and that beguiling smile
that's touched us all over thousands of miles 

I spot our Father Christmas, Jackie Ellison
Oh my, mercy me, the hamsome Tim Ryerson
then the beautiful being, Anne-Lise Andresen
and our pretty young doll, Anne Poetess Currin

Andrea, crack writer and popcorn freak
and Nette Onclaud, Madame Linguistics
the talented and sweet Leonora Galinta
oh, for a long time I've longed to meet her

There's the much-loved Reach-Out Lamoureux
a stylish gentleman, delighted to meet you
our very own Linda who happiness spreads
memorable the day as Brown Licia meets Red

He who writes poetry with a golden pen
bestest, fantasticest, hamsomest friend
Rich-Heart Seal-ed Door, my bruv from abroad
by his smile I'm bowled over;  by his charm I am awed 

I'm jumping with joy at my fave poets meet
befuddled, bewildered;  who first to greet?
midst the mountain of talent I'm on a positive high
overwhelmed, I simply break down and cry


This one needs a whole lot of polishing and smoothing 
out, but I was too excited to submit it.  I'll iron out the 
crinkles soon.  LOVE TO YOU ALL, LICIA <3 <3 <3 <3



Copyright © delysia hendricks | Year Posted 2013

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You kissed him in front of me

You didn’t notice my tears.

As you both kissed each other
like two lonely plungers
who just escaped from plumber’s solitary confinement,
your eyes open and wander up.

You didn’t look across that banquet hall
with my feet planted against wood polished tendencies.

Its creaks motioning time towards yellow-signal identity.

As my breath declares sudden death
against lake’s dripping reflections…
…you didn’t think to set your photo album on private.
 
Advertising lust
wrapped in pretentious cloak
sewed in recycled fibers of “love”.

With ignorant enablers speaking chic-flick tongue,
“Oh My Gawd! I’m so happy for you! I wanna ovulate!”

As I, put my head down
returning to this moment in time,
I had to let my song…cry.

Lenny Williams begins to exude “cause I love you” chorus,
as I walk towards bar
sensing your seductive retinas
stroking against my Latin swagger.

Your ring finger
chained by 3 carat, naïve cut, diamond
motions an intense, streaking caress
against wine glass filled with Zinfandel sin.

Because you know I am your addiction.

Your diabetic lips never forgot
that taste
of my
brown
sugar.

But, you didn’t notice my tears.

I wish you had.

For all this time, these tears
were of joyful splendor.

Because solace holds my hand
with candlelight warmth.

Slow dancing with my soul
in mystery Salsa sway.

While you stand on home plate,
holding your 2nd place trophy,
with 3 strikes against you.

A reminder that my heart,
was flexible enough
to dodge
a bullet.

© Drake J. Eszes


Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2011

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Never Out of Season - A Short Story

     I was wiping the dust off an old snow globe in the upstairs attic, when a mop of honey-blonde hair suddenly appeared through the wooden flooring.
     "I thought I'd find you here," said the voice, warm and feminine. It was a lovely contrast to the thoughts that bloomed inside my head. The little red Santa smiling gaily, his gloved hand forever frozen in a wave. Truth be told it was over a hundred degrees outside, and up here in this cobweb-ridden place (by God) was practically unbearable.
     But as I lightly shook the fragile keepsake I found myself dashing through the snow like I once did so many years ago. I heard the sound of high pitched laughter from afar, out in the sultry day (most likely the neighbor kids playing tag through a sprinkler-soaked lawn). But there, at that precise moment, I was taking the road before me, and singing a chorus or two.
     "You miss him don't ya?" the voice broke me out of my thoughts, and for a moment I just stared at her as if she had a left over piece of spinach in her teeth. I nodded quietly in the silence and rubbed the smooth curvature of the glass with my thumb. It somehow felt cold, as if winter wonderland was still trapped inside.
     I knew I hadn't stayed too long, though I knew my wife would be patient throughout this ordeal, however long it took. She didn't need to recite any famous sayings to pick me up, just her being there was enough. It was the unspoken truth between us, and it was always enough.
     "Cody and Angie will be downstairs when you're ready to head out."
     "I'm ready now. I was just doing a little cleaning up." It wasn't quite a lie. It was one of those statements we use to say one thing and mean the other. The attic was "okay", but I knew of more dire things in need of some organization.
     Beth went down the ladder first, naturally. Then it was me, a bit awkwardly, still holding the snow globe. We both came into the living room, where our children sat waiting. Cody was playing some handheld video-game in his Hawaiian swimming trunks. Angie was quietly giggling at something her friend said, via text. Her blue bathing suit was barely more than a strap, and I knew I was this close from losing it. But this was a happy day, so I let it slide, just this once.
     "Are you still not ready?" asked Angie.
     I looked down at my blue work jeans and buttoned-up t-shirt. My wife gave her a fierce look, as if willing her to take back what she said. It didn't really matter though ... my emotions were spent.
     "I was gonna change when we got there," I said, a bit defeated.
     "Whatever." She rolled her eyes and plopped her phone right there on the couch. I just stood there like a lifeless statue, while my family got everything ready to head to the local pool. My wife was as patient as a snail, but the kids bustled about as if they've been down here a lifetime. Cody was mad when Beth took the game-boy from his hand, just before some big important checkpoint. Angie was calling Beth completely unfair for not letting her invite Tom over to come swim as well. My wife told her, "This is a family event, no exceptions, and for Pete's sake, listen to me for just this once!"
     I just stood there, in quiet grief. Their voices were mere sounds, plastic and surreal, and I went along with it as if everything was alright. But it wasn't alright. The world was falling apart all around me, miraculously still turning, and I just stood there! Finally I reached for the doorknob, when I realized I still had the snow globe in my hand.
     I looked at it longingly, with affection, and it came to me. A slightly crazy idea. Not the kind where it's life or death, but the fact that it was a spur of the moment decision, it felt totally crazy. I placed the snow globe on the mantel above the fireplace, where the glass caught the sun just right and the jolly Santa shone a brilliant red.
     Allow me this simple pleasure, I asked God in silence. Let the neighbors gawk and smirk all they want. Let the kids think their father's going senile, thinking it's December and not August. I didn't care. I just watched the little flakes twinkle through out the water-filled dome.
     I displayed it proudly, knowing that good will, kindness and love were never out of season. So I picked myself up out of my gloomy state, got inside the car, and slid into the driver's seat. "Alright, let's go!" I said cheerfully, and everyone looked surprised.
     "Dad, is everything … okay?" asked Cody, from behind. But no answer was necessary. I just smiled, and looked across at Beth without a care in the world.
     And since we've no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.



First Published in Dual Coast Magazine Issue #3

NOTE: I've written a few short stories, but this one is special to me. It was well received by my family, and I was so excited to discover it was accepted by a magazine. It was my first non-poem to be published.


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

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Lost in your eyes

Seasons change and so have we
time softly drips like rain
days of youth a memory-
our love a sweet refrain

Chorus 

When we were young we had no fear
we dreamed we'd never die
the winter of our lives draws near
away we soon shall fly
and when you're scared I'm here, my dear
to wipe those tears you cry

and though the years have passed on by
I still get lost in your sweet eyes

Autumn leaves have turned to brown
and soon they'll turn to dust
world keeps spinning 'round and 'round-
in love we've put our trust

When we were young we had no fear
we dreamed we'd never die
the winter of our lives draws near
away we soon shall fly
and when you're scared I'm here, my dear
to wipe those tears you cry

and though the years have passed on by
I still get lost in your sweet eyes

Bridge 

We'll face the future come what may and weather every storm
let's cherish each and every day and keep the home hearth warm
together, forever...

When we were young we had no fear
we dreamed we'd never die
the winter of our lives draws near
away we soon shall fly
and when you're scared I'm here, my dear 
to wipe those tears you cry

and though the years have passed on by
I still get lost in your sweet eyes

my love the years have passed us by...
I still get lost in your sweet eyes






Copyright © The Seeker | Year Posted 2016

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HEAR EAR

Over recent months I’ve had trouble with my hearing… Misinterpreting what is being said isn’t so endearing Take a step back and think of all the things you would miss if you couldn’t hear at all The list is endless but here are a few I came up with The cry of a newborn baby and your child’s first words The symphony of the dawn chorus Music and speech on the radio or TV Phone conversations or chatting with friends Going to the theatre or to a concert The door bell or alarm clock ringing And of course there are those three little words we love to hear … ‘IS DINNER READY ?’ OOPS I MEAN I LOVE YOU I took the plunge and saw a specialist and have been fitted with a hearing aid Wow what a difference it has made I can hear perfectly now From the squeak of a mouse to the moo of a cow And the best bit of all… If someone is mouthy and starts to scoff I can quickly turn my hearing aid off!!! 10~06~16 N B I have to approach what has been and what is going on in my life with humour it is just the way I cope with what life throws my way


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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Celebrating A Birth

Isn't life a joy beyond imagining 
When a child is born to us?
Can there be any greater happening 
When families become a chorus?
Oh sweet melody of life's golden symphony 
Pregnant seasons birthing spring 
Nothing can compare to the cacophony 
Of a baby when first she sings.
Look: she smiles, she beams,
Her eyes seraphic twinkle, deep blue-green,
Enchanting, magically enticing, endearing, 
Urging her mother to a hug, a kiss
Soft as the early sun on her puffy cheeks.
Captivating, she melts the heart,
Then strikes, straight at the delicious milk 
Of her mother's full sweet breast.



Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016

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Slamming The Super-Duper-Soupers

you want to know a secret
when I write a poem and it's perfect
i dont share it
i bury it 
deep inside of me 
where no one else can see
i mean its perfect
not like this shift 
it's elegant, poignant, 
simplistic, bueatful 
trucking perfect
its not erotic 
but i read it
mentally masterbate to it 
a euphoric chorus 
straight form thesaurus
its just that great
im not being egotistical 
if read, it would become universal 
a meter tethered in clasical measure 
a rythmic flow
with many metaphoric undertows
an iconic harmonic tonic 
to make you feel like an embryonic hedonic youth 
im not being napoleonic
its an actual truth 
factually accurate
high in heaven
it produced a tear in the eye of god
who proclaimed 
not a single flaw
not a single flaw 
and he only saw what i wrote
well, because hes god 
me being me i like to tease 
allow me to be inclined to share a few lines 
blow your mind 
redefine your collective defective perspective
realign your ineffective respective connective tisue

"all my cows milk is homogenized 
all my crows are well organized
all my sheep like to stare and creep 
like to stare and creep"

but you'll never see 
the rest of my secret poetry 
that only exsist inside of me 
cows will always moo
crows will always ka kah 
sheep will always go baah baah baah 
and the perfect elagance 
of my literary inteligence 
will die with me 
never being seen 
qouted, memorised or plagerized 
as i will say with my last gasp 
the next line being twice my last
all you super-duper-soupers can kiss my ***


ok all you super-duper-soupers have been slammed. if you want to slam me back just a few things. make it funny. make it a little nonsensical and definitly make it over the top
and if you do slam me back send me a soup mail or leave a comment so i can go read your slam. 


Copyright © Nathan D. | Year Posted 2015

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Half Baked Sinner

(my lyrics for a country song, but with no music yet.)

Well, my momma -bless her soul - she brought me up good.
She taught me all she knew and she taught me what she should,
She took me to a church and she made me knock on wood.
Still, Honey, I’m a half-baked sinner.

‘Cause I’m sittin’ here and thinkin’ that you’re look’in mighty fine.
You set my heart to pound’in and I’d like to make you mine.
But I’m such a careful gal though I walk a thin line,
Yeah,  Honey, I’m a half-baked sinner.

 Chorus:
Oh, a half-baked sinner; that’s all I am.
Stuck here in the middle of “Nowhere Land.”
A half-baked sinner, I’m God’s little joke,
but I still have my spirit ‘cause I’m only half-broke!

Well, I’m contemplatin’ things with you I’m not supposed to do.
If I’m halfway to Hell, they’ll put me all the way through!
But I’m only HALF-stupid - unlucky for you!
Yes, Honey, I’m a half-baked sinner.

Yes, I know you’ve got your pride,  but listen,  so do I.
I might not tell the truth, but I sure don’t tell no lie!
And I never will give in, for if you ask me why,
It’s because I’m just a half-baked sinner.

Repeat Chorus:
Oh, a half-baked sinner; that’s all I am.
Stuck here in the middle of “Nowhere Land.”
A half-baked sinner, I’m God’s little joke
but I still have my spirit ‘cause I’m only half-broke!




Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011

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Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found



Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

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There is Beauty

There’s the beauty of the sunset
At the closing of the day
And the beauty of the sunrise
When sunbeams come out to play

There’s the beauty of the sunshine
When it makes love to the fields
Warming seeds asleep and waiting
For the harvest they will yield

There’s the beauty of the moonlight
As it rests on bed of sea
And the dance of stars that twinkle
Setting every dreamer free

There’s the beauty of the mountain
In its snowcapped majesty
And the joy of love bird chorus
Nature’s grandest symphony

There’s the beauty of the meadows
And the flowers dressed so fair
Warmth of earth and sun kissed rivers
And the breeze of alpine air

There’s this beauty all around me
And yet you are all I see
In the sky and field and fountain
In the brook and cedar tree

Everywhere I see the beauty
Of your body and your soul
Everywhere I taste your bounty
In the way you make me whole

Most of all I see the beauty
That is touching you with grace
And that wondrous manly beauty
That I see upon your face

Eileen Manassian


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015

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A message from Emilly

A message from Emilly
By Angelo Casiano


A message from above to those of you I love.
I love you more than you’ll ever know,
Even more now that I’m gone.
And my love for you will grow and grow,
Like the chorus to a song.
I had to leave much sooner than
 I thought, I must admit.
But you know mom, until I’m done,
 I’m never gonna quit. 
I left behind some parts of me,
 I have so much to give.
Because of you I’m strong enough,
 to help some others live.
So Daddy when you think of me,
While you watch the Phillies play. 
I’ll be sitting next to you. I’ll be with you every day.
 You’ve given me the best of you.
And now I’m giving back.
I will love you for eternity. No matter were I’m at.


Copyright © Angelo Casiano | Year Posted 2014

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A New Year

I heard the chimes at twelve o'clock
Ring in a brand new year;
And beyond the noise of all the news
I listened hard to hear.
A chorus of lamentation
Ringing loud and singing clear
From many angels winging
Through the vault of heaven.
They sang of shame and sorrow
Of suffering and sin;
They sang of hope for tomorrow
That peace be found and guided in.

I knew of the many trials
That former years had cost;
And all the dreams and pleasures
That were wasted and lost.
With awe I heard the music
That came to me there;
The voices all came pealing 
Through the stillness everywhere.
"Take away the shame and sorrow
Take the suffering and sin
So that a new tomorrow
May find peace be guided in".

Then I offered up a prayer
With heartfelt words I pled
For a miracle for the living
And forgiveness for the dead.
Then the echoes of the music
Softly whispered as songs were sung
They came with phantom voices
From the joyful angel's tongue
Take away the grief and sorrow
Of suffering and sin;
And in that new tomorrow
Let peace be found within.


Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2011

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My Dance Partners - Visual 2

A gallant moon extends gold fingers to me on the dance floor
as I slip my legs into the chorus line of tall, green grass with ease.
Like a spiraling leaf, I’m free until eyes freeze upon his tracks.  
 


Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015

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CAN YOU HEAR ME MOTHER

She could hear us whisper when she wasn't even in the room
Knew we were up to mischief just by looking at our faces
Oh how I wish I could turn back the clock …

The dawn chorus is no longer music to her ears
With limited hearing and failing eyesight the TV remains silent 
Her only pleasure is listening to talking books on a machine for the blind
But the volume is so loud she remains isolated in her own room

Why aren't you wearing your hearing aid I ask? 
But she simply won’t wear it …
Won’t admit to the fact old age is creeping up on her

So now she lives in her own little world
A world of increasing darkness and silence
I dread the day she can no longer see or hear me
Oh how I wish I could turn back the clock …

05~05~15
Contest: A Mother’s Ears – Craig Cornish
~awarded 3rd place~


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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Itsy, Bitsy, Teenie, Weenie Brain

To the tune of "Itsy Bitsy, Teenie Weenie, Yellow, Polka-Dot Bikini"
Dedicated to Nancy Pelosi

Chorus:
She has an itsy bitsy
Teenie weenie
Brain inside her little beanie
And she uses it infrequently

An itsy, bitsy
Teenie weenie brain
We get the heebie jeebies
Whenever Nancy's in our company

Two, three, four 
Don’t stick around, head for the door

Nancy:
  Oh, I pushed and I wrested for health care
  But no one wanted this lame, inane fare
  Still I managed to get it through Congress
  The court may now say it was pointless

Two, three, four
Please don’t give us anymore

Chorus:
She has an itsy bitsy
Teenie weenie
Brain inside her little beanie
And she uses it infrequently

An itsy, bitsy
Teenie weenie brain
We get the heebie jeebies
Whenever Nancy's in our company

Nancy:
  Some will tell you that my voice sounds too shrill
  But House members have followed me still
  Yet we have an election upcoming
  From my muse all my members are running

Final Chorus:
From the Congress to her home state
From California to the streets
Of San Francisco you will find her
Oh so sad to lose her seat


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

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Spring

Harbinger robin serenades
sweet songs of spring with
a choir of bluebirds humming to
a chorus of melodious melodies.
Tranquil prismatic province, provides a 
perfect setting for harmonic fruition.

Royal forget-me-nots foxtrot merrily,
Venetian roses rumba enthusiastically,
aureolin daffodils disco joyfully,
purple pansies promenade gracefully,
persimmon tulips tango blissfully as
ivory water lilies float upon the pond.

Baby blue horizons with a lukewarm sun
surround vibrant hues beckoning change.
Virgin butterflies are bathed in tepid breezes
as they waltz with boogie-ing bumble bees.  

In the midst of serenity, two lovers cavort
under an elegant coral cherry blossom tree.
It's fragile buds flow like the Charleston as 
the two beloveds shimmy, strut and sway.

As colours and aromas pacify senses,
finally, we can inhale Spring's wonders.
 
Spring - Poetry Contest by Catie Lindsey
Second chance contest by Broken Wings
15 March 2016




Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Pilgrim of love

A whim of whispers led to an emotional expedition sojourned love stories led to searching wandering - wondering led to becoming a pilgrim migrating - seeking a heart Although we've not met still, I miss you all I've been doing is waiting for you Fate collided angelic glimpse of chocolate brown eyes enchanting aroma timid smile left me jealous of rain kissing your lips wind stroking your face sun keeping you warm Although we've not met still, I miss you all I've been doing is waiting for you Your name on the tip of my tongue breathless sighs first touch heart dissolved constant yearning distant beloved timeless sweetheart delicate darling eternal dreams of fragile rose Although we've not met still, I miss you all I've been doing is waiting for you Infatuated intoxication absence dehydrated loyal devotion patiently waiting lustful reunion tamed desires finally together perfect future Although we've not met still, I miss you all I've been doing is waiting for you The Silent One 28 January 2016 This poem is about a man searching for true love. The chorus, is about love, not a person. He has not found love, so he misses it and is waiting for it. He finds his beloved in the second stanza. Waits for her patiently and in the 4th they are united.


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Surround Sound

As the sun tinges the horizon
A pale shade of rose
Beauty touches the slate gray sky
White canvas painted exposed

Surround sound of Dove's voices
Coos echo on all sides
Roosters' fill in the deep bass sound
Mockingbirds' tone abides

All song birds in chorus sing out
on this still quiet morn
Melodies lift above trials
As the Doves' song is born  

There's that stillness saying wait
Rest before one of life's storms
The Holy Spirit does comfort
In my heart there's His form

No matter what life's trials present
The Comforter is there
Like the assurance of a daily
Sunrise no need to despair

As the orange sun glows like embers
Through the silhouetted trees
Thoughts run to the Savior's anguish
Who did so much for me

He made this awesome provision
The gift of the Comforter
Just reach out and touch the Savior
He's the great Affirmer


Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2015

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UNBECOMING


long scarf of a night clasping the bracelet of a moon, what emptiness is this when i have you not near? the distance of a thousand galaxies collecting stars unbinds me, when once i could tumble upon your nape so bronze as if there to fly swept by every lingering breath borrowing some endless moaning of time; a stewing chorus of sacred yet wild mouths coming together then parting... farewell, a few more steps closer and i shall disown my soul and bones under the cloud's dark awning to silently memorize your fading eyes entombed in near burial of an unbecoming night.
.............
Loneliness Contest of Frank by nette onclaud new poem


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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'Til the end of the world

memories of love's embrace/visions fill my head
thoughts drift to another place/the day my heart first bled

(Chorus)

I promised her the sun and moon
red roses and pink pearls-
and to love her 'til the end of the world

cherished gifts are stored away/pictures kept in books
diamonds glitter where they lay/silk dresses still on hooks

I promised her the sun and moon
red roses and pink pearls-
and to love her 'til the end of the world

wedding day so full of hope/wedding night sublime
happy thoughts to help me cope/I guess it was her time

I promised her the sun and moon
red roses and pink pearls-
and to love her 'til the end of the world

(Bridge)

These promises and dreams of ours can quickly fade away
If only I'd protected her she'd be here still today

I promised her the sun and moon
red roses and pink pearls-
and to love her 'til the end of the world

Oh, I promised you the sun and moon
red roses and pink pearls-
and to love you - until the end of the world





Copyright © The Seeker | Year Posted 2016

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The Soup is On

If finding good times is your wish
And poetry your favorite dish,
Then visit us. The soup is on!
It’s piping hot and never gone.

And with so much to see and do,
This place is hopping!  Rabbit stew
Has got to be our specialty
Because we move so rapidly.

I recommend a cup of Joe.
To keep up here, you can’t move slow,
for this is such a lively group,
you won’t be seeing turtle soup! 

Chorus:
So come on! Step outside your shell.
Learn all the rules and learn them well.
Of poems, we must have every kind.
So come inside and feed your mind!

No turtle soup, but plenty of
All kinds of soup you’re sure to love -
Like vegetable hot in the pot;
Of healthy soup we have a lot!

If psychedelic is your thing,
Try special mushroom with a zing!
There’s spicy enchilada too
If Latin passion flows through you.

Some soup is salty; some is sweet,
And many soups are filled with meat.
There’s chicken noodle for the soul.
I guarantee that you’ll get full.

Chorus:
So come on! Step outside your shell.
Learn all the rules and learn them well.
Of  poems, we must have every kind.
So come inside and feed your mind!


Learn how to post, and don’t be shy.
Most poets love when you reply,
Especially if you read their work.
New friendships are an added perk!

New poems appear on lists. Beware!
They vanish soon into thin air.
So many contests to get in.
You’ll feel your head begin to spin.

To learn the ropes, just ask around.
Quick! Like a bunny, leave the ground.
Hop to it! Ready, set, now GO.
Remember turtles are too slow……

Chorus:
So come on! Step outside your shell.
Learn all the rules and learn them well.
Of  poems, we must have every kind.
So come inside and feed your mind!


Written June 10, 2014  by Andrea Dietrich


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

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The Spirit, the Water, and the Blood

last thing I remember is the look upon his face
shot him dead right where he stood then left without a trace
took a man's life robbing his white castle for some change
if I could I'd take it back my life I'd rearrange

(chorus)

as I lie upon this cot I look up toward the sky
the Word says He still loves me though I sometimes wonder why
the man I am today is one He pulled up from the mud
I've put my faith in these three things...
the spirit, the water, and the blood

growing up I never got to know the man who caused my birth
the only dad I ever knew destroyed my own self-worth
the day he beat my mother was was the day I thought I'd die
I swore it'd be the last time that this boy would ever cry

as I lie upon this cot I look up toward the sky
the Word says He still loves me though I sometimes wonder why
the man I am today is one He pulled up from the mud
I've put my hope in these three things...
the spirit, the water, and the blood

(bridge)

looking in this broken mirror I see a man redeemed
my newborn faith in God above uplifts my self-esteem
the One who sent his Son to die forever set me free
these bars that keep me locked up now will soon no longer be
(I'll pay the penalty)

the time has come the needle waits I find myself at peace
tomorrow morn I'll pay my dues before I find release
forgiveness I have begged from Him for causing so much pain
my hope is He remembers me and that I'll live again

as I lie upon this cot I look up toward the sky
the Word says He still loves me though I sometimes wonder why
the man I am today is one He pulled up from the mud
I've put my trust in these three things...
the spirit, the water, and the blood

as I lie upon this bed of death I close my eyes
his family's all gathered 'round it makes me wonder why
the man I killed's dear widow helped to pull me from the mud
(because like me)
she's put her faith in these three things...
the spirit, the water, and the blood


Copyright © The Seeker | Year Posted 2016

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Jan's Garden

This sweet gentle sonnet is for Janet.
In whose garden I've sat for the last hour.
There is no better place on the planet
to capture the grace and awesome power
of a person who thinks she has neither.
A silent orchestra of bright colors,
soloist and chorus of each species gather
in season from subtle to loud bellow,
in a silent sonata conducted
by a genius gardener spreading life
and beauty and love. Reward not expected
by our maistro except the relief
of life's burdens, a few ripe tomatoes,
appreciative children, any of those.


Copyright © ahellas Alixopulos | Year Posted 2016

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Despair Dispelled

Dawn's rays burst through gray clouds
Though evening's bitterness lingers
She struggles to shake free of tear-stained, satin shrouds

Each morning, so much effort just to rise
But lips part to flash a much-needed smile
When she opens the door and ventures outside

A sparrow had nested in her hanging flowers
High-pitch chirps alert the world life has renewed
And gladly does she acknowledge nature's powers

A wee, brown owl is perched upon the sprawling oak
He's forgotten to take refuge as the night receded
Then a tiny tree frog begins his pond-side croak

She sees his motley, textured body and begins to laugh
For nature's creatures have learned to live carefree
As he does daily, the frog hops to board a lily-pad raft

The tension has eased as nature's chorus serenades
Such joy and harmony their songs evoke
She saunters through the woodland, joins their parade

Her heart is now light; she has mastered their technique
Overcome with gratitude, she skips along the path
Knowing that wallowing in sadness is never unique

For the blues will strike again as night covers the land
And she will face her personal demons once again
But for now she revels in these gifts from nature's hand

And to find relief the next morn, she will simply open a door
Step into the refreshing flow of a passing breeze
And find her way to happiness once more



For Farah Chamma's "My Favorite Things" challenge.


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010