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Best Poetess Poems

Below are the all-time best Poetess poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of poetess poems written by PoetrySoup members

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I AM OLIVE: 'THE POETESS' by Guillermo, Olive Eloisa
POEM AND POETESS ENTWINED by Guyler, Ian
The Poetess by Smith, Tim
You The Poetess Fills My Nights by Yvonne, Maurice
Sonnet to a Fine Poetess by Bateman, Gary
Petite Poetess by Fraser, James
BRAINSTORM: A Letter To A Poetess by JT, Honestly
To my favourite poetess by osorov, zamir
The Poetess by Meeuws, Scharlie
Poetess Darkly by Lamoureux, Richard

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The Best Poetess Poems

Details | Poetess Poem | |

The Fallen Poet

(The Fallen Poet)

Shadows, fall from the east
Winter show, white meadows,
Compelling words lost, in a silent world
Beautiful, Bloomingdale is how it goes
Apocalyp-so, my very own limbo
I was alone in a field of corpses-
A field of men, women and broken pens, 
Images of angels fallen to their knees

A pace of space, where--
The sun became a wasted disease
The more I prayed the worse I felt,
Lord, I came before you- broken from head to toe

Heaven sees through, the secret inside
Lost I may be, yet you see
Offended me, I no longer sing
I wait till all is asleep
My ink is dry, a broken poet, with nowhere to go
Lost in the shadows of snow, frozen like ice
A sheet of paper, with no meaning, no words

My friends, my comrades, how easily one forgets

Like a game of chess, I panicked
Made all the right and wrong moves
I lost my way, staggered across
Love comes and love goes
My heart weaker than, weak
I don't know how I survived before, 
After turning the other cheek
I was no longer whole, forsaken myself endlessly 
I was lost, could not even count on myself

Guidance, I ignored no one believed what's become of me
Secretly, I stood in my old footsteps after falling down

At times end, I found nothing could put me back where I belong
It's time to get back on offense,
Walk through the new doors God reopened to my life

~SKAT~

(A Poet Destroyer Collaboration) 

More great poems below...


Details | Poetess Poem | |

Night Owl

Sitting by her open window,
Was a girl deep in thought,
Lost within a book of Poe,
A perfect poem she sought.

With a curious eye,
He watches her pen,
For she gives it a try,
Every now and then.

He will visit her forevermore,
In silent hours of midnight,
Casting his shadow on her floor,
Within the full moonlight.

Mysterious, nocturnal bird,
Calling out to darkened land,
Speaking such wise word,
Which I cannot understand.

I am lonely, I must confess,
It's just you, me and the moon,
You are much like me, I guess,
So, please sing me another tune.

A messenger of death,
Wailing songs of a banshee,
Has my grim reaper cometh,
Was this warning meant for me?

My soul was projected,
In the shadow of a fowl,
A raven I had expected,
Not the silhouette of an owl!


Details | Poetess Poem | |

Lucilla Smiled

Although her smile I could not see, Lucilla smiled through poetry. This lovely lady I met here who graced us with her sunny ways until her very final days became for me somebody dear. Although her smile I could not see, Lucilla smiled through poetry. Her words of wisdom now can flow in heaven, where all angels go. This lovely lady I met here became for me somebody dear. Although her smile I could not see, Lucilla smiled through poetry! RIP Lucilla Carrillo - Written in her memory Oct 2014 For the Sonnetina Rispetto Contest of Dr. Ram Mehta

Details | Poetess Poem | |

Andrea D

Lady Andrea on the meadowland

The Lady walks upon the grassy turf
composing a romantic pentameter twixt
the everlasting trees and wafting surf
that dominate her keenly rhymes, affixed.

Meanwhile she paces on the meadowland,
where gracefully the butterflies romance,
her urge for creativity commands
to include in verse the nature's élégance.

Her carefree doggy jumps around the trees
and blithely at the insects laughs and woofs
the bees encounter blooms inside the breeze
and harvest nectar nighly and aloof.

Whate'er the maiden's inspiration forms
disperses round the flowers and the trees,
the dreamy pentameter, so, transforms
to abstract lines that buzzing bees appease.

" Woof hither not, ungrateful doggy mine,
my lines' last syllables repose unstressed;
while thou art dancing round the blooms and pines,
- I'll miss the deadline of the Greek's contést.

Apollo, bless my metered création
and countenance me as thy designee
while I pronounce my heart's déposition
to be forever, hence, thy devotee. "

© 2015-02-01, G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved 
(Iambic pentameter)

Sponsor: Judy Konos 
Contest Name: Write a Poem 
Poetry Contest Deadline: 3/1/2015


Details | Poetess Poem | |

Jan Allison


Jan Allison


There is a great gal on our ‘Soup’
Renowned in our poetry group
She’s ready to show
How our poems glow
With comments that give us the scoop.

Sincere as she gives us her view
Of writes we submit, old or new
No sooner we post
She’s there like our host
With greetings to look forward to.

Her poetry’s lovely to read
No matter what subject indeed
Some words leave us sad
Some words make us glad
And some provide lessons to heed.

So friendly to all on our site
We love her with all of our might
Although she has woes
Her care she bestows
On others to help with their plight.


© Sandra M. Haight 2015 
   All Rights Reserved

~1st Place~
Contest: Write a Poem
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Judged: 02/11/2015




--------------------------------------------------------------------

More great poems below...


Details | Poetess Poem | |

I Write A Poem

I write a poem that will entertain the world.
A poem that will fade someone's fear.
The one that will inspire you to smile.
Something that can make you out of mind.

I write a poem for lovers and friends,
To describe the feelings, how is love moves the earth.
A poem that encourages deads to live.
To keep the sun shines over the fields.

I write a poem that makes the whole world read.
A sentimental of a heart from lover who left.
The adventure of a man who travelled the lands and seas.
The agony of a woman who lost her baby.

I write a poem....
Until my ink gets dried.
Until the sun meets the horizon.
'til there's no tears fall in my eyes.

I write a poem...
To fall in love once more.
To hold the hand of a new lover,
To see the stars, the moon in full bloom.

I write a poem....
Until the last leaf falls in tree.
Then my life fades in the shadow of eve.
And every memories be left in dreams.

I write a poem....
Please care to comment and sealed with  a kiss.
Choose one or two to be your favourites.
And dont forget, fave the author of masterpiece. =D



** 2nd Place Winner in Poet Destroyer aka Linda's Contest: Any Poem #28 **


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MY SOUPER GIRLFRIENDS

I met them once I landed in a place, 
they called it haven, a soiree place. 
Where people are nice,kind and cool. 
Some are young, some are....never mind. 
They're awesome people!

I first met this blonde lady,thought she's only twenty.
She did refused, said she's almost a mother to me. 
I beg to disagree,'cos she's more than just a mom. 
She's a bestfriend, she's wonderwoman. 
She lives in Norway,Anne Lise Andresen was her name. 

There goes a new avatar,who came to visit on my land. 
She's wearring sunglasses,but can't hide the beauty from behind.
Then I found out lately, she doesn't just own a pretty face.
She is the sexiest and hottest momsie,rockin' up poetry.
She's a real poet master,SkAT A.,that's her name! 

One day I sat down and read some poetries, 
So delightful,inspiring, and awesome pieces. 
I got struck to what I've found. 
A Filipina who's writing with charms, 
Her poems are incredibly great, 
She's Nette Onclaud, the goddess poet! 

I came to land another page, thought at first that's a cage. 
Of a tigress with full of angst and strength. 
I must admit, though I was afraid, I admire all the pieces she had made. 
She left the table and threw the soup,and think tha'ts the last time I'll see her poem. 
But with revenge she went back home, and send me greetings that I treasured. 
With friendly comment I came to know, this tigress is tame and a sweet person. 
Who is she?...the everbody's love and favorite, Poet Destroyer!

As time goes by, and my journey went long.
I had to passed in different stations.
I came to know so many beautiful people,
So kind and thoughtful, their arts are treasures.

There came to visit my poem one day, 
Though full of greiving,they cheered me so well.
They are Mary Jo ,Eileen, F.J. ,Vie and Shadow.
The women who are pride of this site.
The pretty ladies who always been there to lift you high.

Above all these awesome experience,
Is to know the people from my own motherland.
My country fellas, so sweet,cool and nice.
They are the crystal flowers glisten brightly like a star.
They are Leonora, Maria Paz, Nikko and Carole...

My day became brighter, you light the path I walk.
Everytime your greetings knock on my door.
Allow me to do the honor to thank you guys.
And let you all know how thankful I am.
My dream has came true, because of this site.









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You are THE EYES OF THE WORLD

You, poet, poetess...
ARE THE EYES OF THE WORLD!

Now that I've got your attention... let's sail to avenues where few too many 
cooks infuse attitutudes, burn britches in the kitchen.
Let us wave banners and quake fault lines of the masses, generate public 
interest bigger than entering contests, so the future wins as we arrest eye 
sights of their asses.
 
We've got something special in here; everyone sharing and caring and staring 
at screens like queens stare in the mirror. Hey, I've got an idea dear, rather 
it's more like a scattered ideal, real rednecks call "Idears, ya' hear!" 

So put down yir' sweet tea, turn off Duck Dynasty and come fly with me. 
We've got a whole generation of people sleeping through myriads of poetic 
songs. I contest we kick 'em in the ass with something true, something 
strong. 

We've got a beautiful community begging to be read. But right now, the only 
ones reading are those who should be writing instead.

We need to reach out, feed the needy, there's so much to teach. We are at 
the beginning of something huge, but I need YOU to see there's a universe to 
reach.

Look in the mirror, understand where you stand...
---------------
Note...
This stage could be HUGE!!! Poets are the last line of defense. But, here we 
are limiting our song, SARDINES IN THE TIN. 
We must think bigger, and 
generate vibrations for the whole world to see. 
Poetry is so much more than a club.

WE ARE THE EYES OF THE WORLD! 

There is no communication more true than this....what we live, what we give, 
what we do--- It's up to me and you!

Details | Poetess Poem | |

The Conventional Girl

Underneath the sea of trust 
Words shovelled sand in her eyes
The smell traced back a map of hope
Paradise could still not be located

Joy lived far from her earth
Please wake me after my death
For I might have missed the turn 
I did dig my own emergency grave I remember

My dream trails had no brake lights
Bumps after bumps 
Poetry drums speeding eternal crumps 
Every soul bumped into my back seated lips
The road to their ears required constructive rhymes
Poetry police 

Bulldozers bullied opportunities on the pavement of my love
Paradise got dizzy and lost meaningful visions 
Conventionally my heart is one
Sharpened in tubes sharing heart-beats with no lies

I loved loving love
Restricted dreams to stick-away from uneven pants chasing bums 
My mouth opened doors shaming the unshakable love triangle stunts 
Usually conventional uses are unusual 

My heart my grave
The future I paved
The sand glowed like stars in my eyes
Disgraced to blind my visual crafts
My confession

The roots of my strength came in veins
Circulating thoughts 
He made me shoes from manmade bricks
For I walk buildings in my dreams 

Skyscrapers scrubbing the breeze of hope in the sky
She placed her heart in rules
Speak your promise 
I the conventional girl 

© Ray 

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I'm Not Real

I’m not real….
I’m a woman woven from wonder’s imagination
Ethereal….the cotton candy of a dream
the glow and sparkle of a stream
the luxuriant lusciousness of cream
the sparkle that scintillates the surreal
the smooth softness of silky feel
But I’m not real…

I’m the sparkle left of angel dust
the fair fairy in fiction’s feast 
the tantalizing temptation tease
the benevolence of balmy breeze
Oh….
But, I’m not real

I’m not real…
You catch only glimpses of me
in what I want to reveal
What I want to conceal
I’m not real….
but when you read
those little rhymes
and poetry lines
Those emotions that you feel?
Those?
Yes! 
Those are real….

Eileen Manassian

Details | Poetess Poem | |

Destiny's Clutch

The dawn spoke her name like a silken secret
carried carefree by the tradewinds of lust and larceny
imported from the traderoutes of paradise and pandemonium, 
sequined with violet venom she venerates the virtue of volition
her love is unlawful, unequalled in unrest, righteous in conquest,
tender in temptation, torrid your surrender, her beauty a will bender,

Queen of Empire Passion, warrior unknown to submission
her kingdom was not inherited, glory and throne ungifted,
the treasures, stables and territories, battles and crown all won,
rich in intellect, endowed with rare resources, affluent in original passion
bejeweled in natural beauty, she bewitches beasts and men alike,
Poets pen her preciously as Woman Total, Priests implore her pardon,
male servants pander to her anger and ardor, satisfaction she commands,
Sisterhood the symbol and soul of her mission,

I was just a man, a wanderer wading through her reign,
from the unsubdued North I came, a curious traveler with ancient name,
my tribe unfamiliar, underestimated, a Chieftain of steady pulse,
tresspassing towards her roots my aim was direct knowledge of her
woman of renown cunning and learning, woman of exotic ability,
seeking teaching and romance, though I would not be her Subject or victim,
this she knew, this she abhorred, a challenge to her dominance,

I agreed to meet her alone in the open morning of war,
in an abeyounce of gliding fire she comes riding out of the sun
regalia of black roses against red tears flying above her shoulder,
our horses begin a battle tromp, breaths heavy with moist mania
she has leopards in her eyes
poinsettias and death's palms painted on thighs,
scalps of exlovers and enemies slung on sadle
we acknowledge one another with ritual yell
I exclaim, Warrior Poetess, she screams Poet Warrior!
dismounting with mutual vigor our combat erupts
cutting my cheek with her blade's lip
kicking me in the ribs
I clinch her collared throat
and heel trip us to the ground
she snarls, I growl,
a glimpse of rescue in eachother's eyes -

J.A.B.

Details | Poetess Poem | |

Soul of the Poet

Invite of the evening crowd, yearning for acclaim, a common braggart read aloud, to glean synthetic fame. The fellow even took a bow when some had stood and clapped The rest of them were in the know; so mostly they just napped. Elsewhere in a lonely hut, near death’s parting knell, doors and windows firmly shut, a poet bids farewell. Painfully she starts to write, and pens a lovely score, her phantom fans in sheer delight, arise in silent roar.
2nd Place, Put Your Best Rhyme Forward, Just That Archaic Poet

Details | Poetess Poem | |

Meeting The Soupers

"Your first poem was an 
excellent poem....you are 
welcome...." Commented 
skat on my first poem.
"Wonderful and deep 
poem....you are welcome 
to poetry soup..." That 
was Poet Destroyer.
"Wow you have touched 
my heart in a special way 
with your poem.....your 
new friend Leonora 
Galinta" said Galinta.
"Well penned" said 
kithinji and so many 
special poets.
Hearty words from these 
unique poets spurred me 
to write better poems.
Which they appreciate.
Poetry soup is safe haven 
where feelings and 
emotions are expressed 
in tangible forms.
An educational enclave 
where different forms of 
knowledge are 
exchanged like two 
hands washing eachother.
Am most humbled to 
meet these dazzling 
gems radiating warmth 
like the sun-a privilege it 
is connect to parts of the 
planet.
I believe we all will meet 
someday,not in the after 
life.
Leonora Galinta is an 
angel to meet,whom I 
admire amongst others.
Love to set my eyes on 
her delicate and graceful 
nature. See her graceful 
carriage, feel her gentle 
hands and smiles as she 
exudes sweetness. I pray 
hand of time will 
backwards when that 
day appears as we walk 
in the woods leading to 
silent deep blue sea with 
gentle breeze 
whispering...... A prolific 
writer as well.
PD will I meet 
someday,love her 
amiable nature,full of 
grace and charm. A 
prolific poetess.
Skat is lovely with her 
immeasurable words of 
encouragement.
Kithinji will I love to 
behold,to learn from him.
Have drink with Robin,
Alian, shake akinyemi, 
stroll with Joe, hv a hike 
with
Sibanda, dine with Ralph 
and you.
Saying hi and hugs to 
Paz Samelo.
Meeting the soupers is 
making a happy family.
   Am gliding like the 
eagle,soaring higher as 
the day pass by.          
you soupers are my 
strength.








Name:Ifeanyi Bob 
Ekechukwu.
(Baron Of Ebullion)

Details | Poetess Poem | |

Five Sweet Letters for the BIRTHDAY GIRL

L  egendary is her poetic soul
I   nvincible in reaching her goal
N  aughty, but she can also be nice
D  aring, with not a thought to the price
A  mbitious, she will climb to the heights

Linda…she shines in all that she writes!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

PS...Linda, HAPPY BIRTHTDAY!!!!! I wish you all the best!!! May God bless and keep you. I've so come to appreciate you during my time here. You are strong, smart, you speak your mind, you know what you want, you know how to get it, and you are fearless. Qualities I love in a woman! Also, you know how to be caring and tender when the need arises. You are a TITAN of Poetry Soup. Your name says it all. Divide and conquer. Sending you hugs on your special special day! :)

Details | Poetess Poem | |

In Loving Memory of Lucilla Carillo

My lovely Lucy, you’re no longer here
He called your name; you left without a fear
Your heart was tired and more so your soul 
God let you rest for soon he’d make you whole

There is sadness deep inside my heart
To know that in our group you’ll have no part
I’ll look for you by name, but I won’t find
That face that was so loving, sweet and kind

I don’t blame God, for He knows what is best
You were His loved one, so he gave you rest
A woman of great faith, you had no doubt
You wrote of Him and all that life's about

I’ll miss your poems, and your friendship, too
One day we’re sure to meet in earth made new


Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. 14 For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. 15 According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. 16 For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. 17 After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. 18 Therefore encourage one another with these words.

I Thessalonians 4: 13 - 18









Details | Poetess Poem | |

The Softness of a Country Rose for Mary Jo Hoose

A stranger lifted me up today
While I was lost in my own self-centered universe, 
Silently crying about nobody else reading, commenting or caring 
About anything I’ve said, 
Considering myself poetically dead.  

I’ve been more concerned with the encroaching materialistic  
Responsibilities, requirements and concerns of living 
Instead of turning my attentions outward towards others 
And lifting myself out of this whirl pool of self-pity 
Into the ocean of giving.    

When to my wondrous delight dark turned to light 
As out of seemingly nowhere a fellow poet spoke gently and composed: 
“Your poetry is like the softness of a country rose.”
And while I know not where she lives and breathes
This furtherance of feeling was shared with me:
“I too am blue as sky is gray and nothing more will do today
Except ethereal connections are how we poets play.”

I was more than moved, to say the least
How this gypsy out of cyber space 
Renewed my poetic vow:
To speak the truth simple, plain and clear 
As I know how.  
And how 
My words and hers connected 
Through the vacuum of space and time 
Is a story for another day and rhyme. 

Until then, I stand transformed  
By those few words she engendered – 
And would give anything to tell her   
How sweet and kind her words were rendered.          

Details | Poetess Poem | |

A Friendship We Do Share

A Friendship We Do Share

My friend has troubles so very unfair
O' were I only able to just be there
To set right any very great wrong
man of action not of sweetened song

I would send power so very strong
to lift her up to just sing along
A merry melody that gives a feeling
like joy leaping up to the ceiling

A friendly hug just to help her see
the world is bad but send God a plea
A blessing would fly to be on her side
joyous comfort would take her on a ride

Yes, one way or another I would help
a promised vow , now made would be kept
Relief striking away troubles so unfair
deeds done for a friendship we share

Robert J. Lindley 08-06-2014

Written as promised to cheer a very 
fine lady that has been a friend to me..
Best Ican do and hope it cheers her heart.

Details | Poetess Poem | |

Notice By A Poet

Her beauty is like nature,
Before mine eyes at day.
Let this be my prayer,
That love may find her way.
She rest not in my heart,
Nor in these arms of mine.
Love, please be the guard,
Of this worthy valentine.


©2015 Honestly JT

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BEAUTY


My brown eyed country lass
Always ready with a beautiful story
Reflecting on childhood dreams
Yet a passionate lovers soul
Joyful in her poetry
One with her soul and heart

My sweet friend Mary Jo you are a blessing to the world.

Details | Poetess Poem | |

Big Ole Country Hugs

Big Ole Country Hugs

Mary Jo

Far outside the city
in the country swattin bugs.
Such a simple price to pay
for big ole country hugs.

Runnin by the river bed
and skippin over streams.
I'm dreamin that I'm dreamin
while I watch you chase your dreams.

Barefoot in the knee high grass
your dreams all catch your eyes.
Laughing when you reach for them 
they turn into butterflies.

Some of them you hold on to
while others you let go.
Sayin give your friends all country hugs
and say they're from Mary Jo.

Somewhere in the distance
I hear a lonesome whistle blow.
Pleased with me for how I see
this woman I don't know.

My vision slowly starts to fade
like that distant engines chugs.
I'm leaving now but I'll be back 
for more big ole country hugs.

Edwin C Hofert

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I AM OLIVE: 'THE POETESS'

I AM OLIVE: "THE POETESS" The array of pigeons stampede upon soft blue-white bears camping on the mountaintops. Stretching shadows across green fields, slowly depart when sun yawns to sleep. When moon-dust streams bathing the night sky, horizon gleams brushing--a hidden tryst below. From biting misery caused by world wars' fangs to lullaby hums of tweeting birds and of seagulls' swish and pounds... Grand or not they are spark spectacles drawing lifeline.. (I am the poetess who loves to write about these) Through my pen, I echo to the world the rhythmic message of love. I open the eyes of man to see the beauty among God's creations. (I am the poetess who is a lover of God and forever am seeking ways to please Him more than any) I bring beauty too, that even the blind can see.. Some trembles: songs and speech of angels that even the deaf can hear.I want to touch the lips of the dumb that they may psalm the ballads of life. (I am the poetess who is 29 y/o this year, a nurse, a singer, a cook in my own right :D!) I lift the spirit of the crushed then cheer victors in the pedestal. I invoke joy when there is none. Hence, even tears: a scream of smiles. (I am the poetess who dares try and reach my limits and beyond, writing from my heart of hearts and from my thought of thoughts) I light up a candle in the midst of hopelessness then usher through morals in verse:the cavalcade of humanity (I am the poetess who expresses freedom of expression responsibly-- wanting always to inspire, encourage and to remind) Poetic finesse not always my ground My name may never be known but each stanza I write I hope it may wake your somber muse. (I am the poetess that always consider herself-- beginner in every poem she writes...) I am,OLIVE ELOISA GUILLERMO, the poetess... ________________________________________________________________ 9:11 pm, April 15, 2015

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POEM AND POETESS ENTWINED

POEM AND POETESS ENTWINED
 
She writes her passions.....on a page of her dreams

So cold the written orb.....between poetic  thighs

Ne`er a moment passes.....when she asks herself

Do the fantasies manifest.....only during closed eyes

Will she ever feel.....the real kiss of his passion

When will the man.....with his pleasures appear

How much love should be made..... in a wordy paragraph

Will she know what it`s like..... to lust without fear

Freedom to love.....revel in such pleasure

Freedom to experiment.......where do you start ?

Not dealing in morals.....the strict codes afforded

But revelling in true passions.....oft` from the heart

Writing sensuous  words.....Using poetic  ink

But words get discarded.....with the turn of a page

Living these words..... passions once written

Unleashes the woman.......she opens the cage
 
 
 
 
 

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Our Poet Destroyer

Like a buzzing bumble bee welcoming
the opening of stunning new blooms,
she flits constantly from page to page 
just to check out all the new poems.
If you are one of the lucky new poets,
she will pollinate your written work
with a sparkling comment  that will
often leave you in such a state of awe 
that rendering a response beyond
just a simple "thank you" is difficult. 
She is loved by many new poets
and appreciated by even more
while others green with jealously
envy her own poetic skill and talent.
She may go by this name or that name,
or occasionally use her given name,
but to all those who really do care
she will always be our "Poet Destroyer."

Details | Poetess Poem | |

an Angel from Norway

            The Soup and all the mix ~
           this has given me my own home
           A warm place I feel safe a Family 
          
          Many Inspired me with Love and welcome from the 1st Day 
          One comes to mind and what would I say ?

          The beautiful Poetess Anne lise ,  from Norway ~

           Anne Lise being sweet and responding from the start
           A most important part of the soup here in many hearts
           I want to say Thank-you for reading and inspiring me to write 

          I want to say you have a beautiful Soul God gifted a special way
          Showing Love , sharing art , sincere in caring for all here

            Anne lise you are truly amazing our Angel Heaven sent ~

           You show such Love to others indiscriminately 
           you read others and respond to all with beauty 
           May Love surround you Always keep you warm like a Blanket Forever ~
  
                    "In Honor of Our Angel Anne Lise "

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A Poem About Nothing but Love

A Poem About Nothing but Love By: Tyner Twine "I edited a few parts from my original poem. As tribute to my first love's requiem. Nevertheless, this simple soul song is the same, Written all for love and not for fame. A poem of love I wrote on hot summer day, remembering the love that has, for so long, faded away." Would someone care to explain Why people write poems in a way That adorns with jewels something so plain That expresses emotions beyond the insane I lift my quill and dwelt on the thought, And realized the reflections I made and forgot... There I lift my pen THEN PAUSED and reflected: How should I begin to write, About lads and gals with love at first sight? Though I have tried as hard as I might, To close my eyes from love's delight, He won me over without a fight, Now all I see is love's pure light. I wondered... Now I shall write: Have I become some kind of fool Who let Love ruin my poems and rules? Who let Nostalgia come and play With distant Beloved's memories on a working day? Have I been foolish every night, To think his arms are holding me tight, To wish that he'll come home to stay, That he'll make love to me every night and day I think these thoughts and was appalled, How | felt too warm and oh, so galled In thinking that these thoughts might stay, and be my ruin at the end of the day. Love, oh love, is a cruel thing for fools if I might say, Though it is delightful it has a price to pay. Fool, fool, fool! With love as her tool... I am. Beguiled and ruined. Oh ~ why can't they just write about trees? Or how honey flows and comes from bees? Why can't they just write about the Sky? See the clouds and the mist and the birds that fly? Why can't they just write about life? How calves are born and how they die? How flowers bloom with the light of the moon, How the sun rose up and set too soon? Oh, a foolish poet's heart of clay, Be molded with the warmth of fate's faint sway! For life changed drastically above, As the fool that I am Writes a poem about nothing but love.