peppermint kisses. I have missed you, friend.
of mine? How I
long to lie down and make you snow angels.
Especially for PD's Contest~ It's Up to You~
*I spent hours trying to personify snow and looking at photographs of snow angels.*
By Gwendolen Rix
Dedicated to Nikko, a special poetry friend from the Philippines who has never experienced snow or has made a snow angel. ;)
out to place
it back in and
it seems as though I can't get any out.
to place it back
in, yet, no luck in getting any out.
form of Pleasure,
taking off the lid and using plastic.
to drink my milk-
shake using a straw but a spoon will do.
It lands on tables and under your bed
It also clings to your computer screen
on clothes it goes
and of course
in your food
not in the mood
In the air, everywhere, I don’t care
You can have it mop, cloth, feather duster
I don’t want it
here or there
dust if you must
Scratch me a note of “clean me” on my shelf
If I dust today it will just come back
I am focused with no destination.
For Brian's FIVE & TWENTY contest
weaving…bringing elements together
A patch of soil, a whisper in the wind
a blackened storm,
making room for it, and letting it grow
Through the years, this tree stood steadfast…solid
tall tree’s wish
soars, touches stars
that whisper to the Heavens, blow kisses
Leaves dance, flirt with breeze in constant motion
seasons fly on,
lives pass by,
tree soaks it in
never drowning, drinking in happiness
Its wood sails in the sea of memories,
waves then crash in
Tree’s ultimate sacrifice, exhausted
Glowing embers now remain, gives soft light
just the right heat,
He always said,
"You are elementary in my life."
It is only now that I understand…
I was his Earth.
--for Chris' Double the Fun~ (Tetractys) contest--
with high regard
To a fellow member of this, my site
To a super poet who gained my heart
Who cries and laugh
while reads and
shares my life
through days and nights
Or sings the tone and note that make me fly
Who backs me up when hear my rhymes and lines
Who lights the light
Who’s by my
tells the tale
that never ends
Tribute to you I write and need no names
Full of esteem and pride I call you friend
You’re not just one
You’re all, my
Get well soon! : )
A good man
Is now tainted
We judge by the shallow sketches painted;
In the crimson, pallid, and cobalt dream,
The devil scheme,
A mean plan.
God bless …
Man is a lie.
Behind closed doors great heroes often cry.
makes wrong move
and slips from nest,
splashing into frigid, flowing water.
It defies the odds by swimming to shore,
to die like this,
letting nature take its predestined course?
Its parents have done just this__turn away.
Pick up the pain
in my hands-
succumbs to death
three days later-
they are such fragile, finicky creatures.
Was there a point in prolonging its death?
What is three days
in the grand
wondering what my true intentions were.
The baby swallow had been a fighter,
so I must have
had tried to
help it survive,
merely prolonging its death by three days.
I can only pray that if I fall hard,
those helping hands
will hold the
Breath on breath.
Two souls entwine,
weaving into one pulsating rhythm.
Give and take. Enveloped penetration-
the push and pull
of an engorged, dilated harvest moon.
She rides the lightning; loud thunder clashes
within his veins,
as their thoughts
the edge of
but tantric elevation reigns them in.
Sensation spirals beyond simple play-
is then plucked
from the heavens,
planted within a womb of earth and fire,
as the dam breaks, finally succumbing
to a release
By Carolyn Devonshire
comes with age
so many emotions and events stored
flushed quickly from memory to my page
release, let go
*Entry for Michael’s “Where Your Poetry Comes From” contest.