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Best Kyrielle Poems

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Details | Kyrielle Poem |

Hear Oh L-rd

The Festival of Lights, Chanukah has arrived
a hopeful time of praise each year revived. 
The Menorah lit, each home becomes a church.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

Our sister Miriam lights the shamash taper first 
a maiden fair and scholarly her prayers rehearsed
to bring together all that's beautiful, diverse.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

Eight nights we praise the L-rd for gifting us with Light
and pass around small things which bring delight. 
We rejoice. In brotherhood we are immersed.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

May G-d in his greatness light all your days
May family, friends, and foes mend their ways 
for all have needs, let kindness tame their thirsts
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.


*Bo-ruch A-toh Ado-noi E-lo-hei-nu Me-lech Ho-olom A-sher Ki-de-sho-nu Be-mitz-vo-sov Ve-tzi-vo-nu Le-had-lik Ner Shel Cha-nu-kah. 
* Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe, who has sanctified us by His commandments, and has commanded us to kindle the lights of Chanukah. 


Details | Kyrielle Poem |

Angel in Your Eyes

To you who knew me in my youth, Who spread sweet joy and spoke with truth; Before you passed to heaven’s skies, I saw an angel in your eyes. To you, the stranger that I met, Who spoke no word of English, yet Gave aid to me, you are God’s prize. There was an angel in your eyes. To those of you within this place Whose gifts of words show love and grace, Though I’ve not faced you, I surmise. . . There is an angel in your eyes! Written by Andrea Dietrich, 10/15/13 for the contest of Gail Angel Doyle


Details | Kyrielle Poem |

Because He Gave A Single Rose

Her tired old eyes lit up bright.
A thankful tear, she could not hide.
A sweet aroma fills her nose;
because he gave a single rose.

Confined to this dreary nursing home;
having outlived family, she's alone.
Today, with a smile, her face glows;
because he gave a single rose.

He brings them often to his mother.
Today, one extra for another.
Talking, on and on she goes;
because he gave a single rose.

She asked an aid to bring a vase.
By her bed the gift was placed.
Happy and peaceful then she dozed;
because he gave a single rose.

Her final breath tonight was sweet.
Family missed, again to meet.
Her last day joyful, all heaven now knows;
because he gave a single rose.



July 17, 2014
Contest: Random acts is kindness
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi





Details | Kyrielle Poem |

At Summer's End

When Autumn veils my season's smile and lingers in the air a while . . . though Indian days be gold spun, my summering will come undone. Night's shadows fall more quickly now; birds sooner too forsake their bough. No tarrying for old friend Sun when summering becomes undone. Oh, warmth of Summer, leave me not. Through Winter's frost I grow distraught. The melancholy has begun; my summering will come undone. As Autumn veils my season's smile, my summering will come undone. (kyrielle in sonnet form) 8/24/13 For Summer's End contest of Francine Roberts


Details | Kyrielle Poem |

Sweet Deathly Rose

Oh, mild flower I chanced to meet,
A ruby red, yet so discreet.
She'd never seen a hue my blue.
Sweet deathly rose that I once knew.

Her fragrance wafted on the breeze,
And all were drawn to her with ease.
I put down roots near her and grew.
Sweet deathly rose that I once knew.

Though in her garden all seems well,
there still are things she hates to tell.
Her thorns, a shield, conceal what's true.
Sweet deathly rose that I once knew.

Beneath her thorns, resentment grows.
Disturb her and her petals close!
I learned too well what could ensue. . . 
Sweet deathly rose that I once knew.

A casual remark was said.
Her ruby rose turned scarlet red. . .
I guiltless pled. Did I misdo?
Sweet deathly rose that I once knew.

A fury she had kept so deep
had been unleashed; it made me weep.
Retaliation cut me through.
Sweet deathly rose that I once knew.

A leaf of peace she offered me:
Be friends, but only partially.
But I refused and shall eschew
Sweet deathly rose that I once knew.




Details | Kyrielle Poem |

MY AFRICA, UNITE TO REWRITE HER STORY

Africa; the land of great ancient myths
With culture diversified, but united mythos.
Traced to bear the ancestry of man
With the found evidence of modern humans.

Africa; like a rule of dynasty bestrides the equator
And encircles diverse unending climate sector
Stretching in awe-inspiring from the North Temperate Zone
Exuding the composite satellite imagery to the Southern pole.

Africa; a resource-rich and second-largest continent
With abundant natural resources that makes it pertinent
To the international community, especially the West
Such that they always want her to be their conquest.

Africa; they much talk about her in the global arena
But always present a mirror image of her aura.
They envy her diamonds, gold, coal, cocoa, and crude oil
That they glow while she mangles herself in turmoil.

Africa; whose stories are always told in a horrible manner
And images portrayed like all she holds is poverty and hunger.
But we know Africa is fascinating, invigorating, and amazing
With her azure clouds and vivid green lands that are unending.

Africa; embossed in awe moist grayness and magnificent mountains
With swirling long-lasting waterfalls stimulating her fountains
And inter alia scenic view of hills and crystal beaches
That marvels the tourists, and geologists see her as a peach.

Africa; muddled in kleptomania that has left her in wanton hardship
And her people glued to delusions that wash up their craftsmanship
Such that they often let her down by being unable to see
The aura of mystery in her versatile resources given by nature for free.

Africa; still muddling through despite the variegated challenges she faces
Needs her people to be well articulated and embrace with a game face
The clarion call that the time is long overdue to unite to rewrite her stories
For only Africans can tell better the untold stories about Africa’s histories.

Africa; I look at the east, west, north, central and south
I hear; and I see the youths strutting; and yelling for change in loud shouts
For they’re tired of bad governments, rebels, militants, genocide and warring
For their future is not of hatred, food crisis, diseases, but devoid of suffering.


Details | Kyrielle Poem |

Scary Moments

Abandoned in the fifties after the war
A frieght elevator stuck between floors
Obsolete machinery, splintered old chairs
In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere

Dead air presses down, stifling and thick
Something still dwells behind one of those bricks
Curled up in a ball, it waits for me there
In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere

A musty gray vapor that whispers my name
It seeps through the wall and creeps to my brain
It sighs and it groans as my soul is laid bare
In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere

It mumbles and moans and drones of ancient tombs
Of claustrophopic closets and dim, hollow rooms
I cry out for help, echoes answer my prayer
In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere

The ghost of my lonely, my lost and alone
My hopeless and helpless, my can't go back home
It's looking at me now with a dull, vacant stare
In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere

6/4/2014
Date Written: 12/6/2012
For Shadow Hamilton's contest





Details | Kyrielle Poem |

The Winter of My Tears

"Alas! The lessening light, the worsening my plight- My face- a somber expression..." excerpt from *a poem by Just That Archaic Poet The summer of my laughter’s passed; my happy skies grow overcast. No meadowlark is singing here. The winter of my tears is near. In vale of shadows, sun hangs low. I sojourn now where chill winds blow. Into November’s gloom I peer. The winter of my tears is near. Before I meet eternity, a snow shall come and bury me, Its brilliance - anguish soon will mirror. The winter of my tears is near. The summer of my laughter’s passed. The winter of my tears is near. *Poem interpreted: "Equinox" This is technically a kyrielle sonnet for the Reinvent, Reimagine, Revamp! Poetry Contest


Details | Kyrielle Poem |

Blossoms on the Snow

(A Kyrielle Sonnet)

The tree stood trembling; red drops spilled
one Christmas day where one was killed.
Sweet daughter they would not see grow
left crimson blossoms on the snow.

What horror that their girl could be
slain senselessly beneath that tree
where every spring she loved to go
and blossoms fell, but not on snow.

The tree of which she’d grown so fond
dropped pearl white petals on a pond.
Oh, that it still were long ago
before were blossoms on the snow!

The tree stood trembling; red drops spilled
like cherry blossoms on the snow.

Andrea Dietrich
For Your "Saddest" Christmas Ever 
Contest sponsored by Constance La France 
~a Rambling Poet~


Details | Kyrielle Poem |

The Long Sleep

Bent forward on his wooden chair,
inside his shack, with not a care,
he sits where fast to sleep he fell.
The old man’s sleeping long and well.

Companions waiting to be fed
or have their master pat their head,
wait at  his feet, but they can tell
the old man’s sleeping long and well.

One spotted mutt with doggie grace
extends a tongue to lick the face
of him whose form is but a shell. . .
The old man’s sleeping long and well.

Bent forward on his wooden chair,
the old man’s sleeping long and well. 


A Kyrielle Sonnet for the Briton Riviere Poery Contest
Link for the painting: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Riviere_Briton_The_Long_Sleep.jpg


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