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Best Virginia Muller Poems

Below are the all-time best Virginia Muller poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Virginia Muller Poem

The Ocean (Hybridanelle)

Moving ridges - blue, green salty de-bree
Lightly, sweep the beach;
As inland rolls the sea

All species, shapes shells' species,
Tumble to shore, scoured by wind, by sand
Frothed, hi-lo crests, toss, create odd creases

Ocean sounds, subdued to loud
Galaxies twinkling, twinkling, over sandy shore
Moving ridges - blue, green, salty de-bree

Limicoline birds probe of tiny beaks
Cerripedes cling - of rock jetty walls
Tumble to shore, scoured by wind, by sand

Dephinidae family-play, chirrups avow
Perceived near silted edge
As inland rolls the sea

Blessed - this Shangri-la
Peace, quiet soul
Creation, presented us

Euphony, miles around
Tunes linger over moist earth
Moving ridges - blue, green salty de-bree

Humility - our
Ever-so-ever thankful
Peace, quiet soul

Waves' tumble, night does endow
Loose sand - wet clay
As inland rolls the sea

Visons 'cross vast waters
Ruffles of promise dapple there
Ever-so-ever thankful

Righteous melodies heard
Moon casts it's shadow
Moving ridges - blue, green salty de-bree
As inland rolls the sea

Placidity drowns fears
All shells, shapes, species
Ruffles of promise dapple there
Frothed, hi-lo white caps, toss, creates odd creases

Details | Virginia Muller Poem

A Window Shuts

An intense aroma from Mother's lilac bushes
satiate the air through our open kitchen window
Robins perched on the rusty downspout
falling from our old front porch,
whistling their sound of peek, tut, peek, tut

Melancholy music is perceived faintly
in the very near distance
as my mother's fingers effortlessly
surf the ivory keys of the piano,
decades old and perfectly tuned

Daddy reclines, comfortable
in his easy chiar, listening.  He smokes
cherry blend tobacco in a hand-carved pipe
creating an intithetic, lincering aroma
as he sips his after dinner drink

Too many whisley laden drinks
change the focus of events
as my Father stands up, curses
his dislike of a tune being played

He stumbles, raises an empty
bottle of Jim Beam Whiskey,
throwing it against the wall,
shattering it into small jagged pieces

Quicly, Mother's music ceases,
as the open window slams
shut, breaking the stained glass
that she loved so dearly

Soothing sounds and aromas of flowering
spring bushes no longer hover
but a repugnant smell of tobacco
and hard liquor remain

Sometimes I try and remember
the flowery smells, soft musical sounds -
but abruptly, I hear that colorful window
quickly close

Oh, how rapidly a serene mood is erased,
replaced by one of uneasiness, sadness

Details | Virginia Muller Poem

Before & After the Lull

Amber-brown sea oats stand tall -
whistling as ocean breezes gently 
blow them in unchartered directions
Voluminous waves impact into jetty rocks
inducing sea urchins to lose their tight grip
from a place of safeness 

Watercraft rock recklessly in
turbulent waters.  Fishing lines
snap as hopes of a good day's 
catch are quickly diminished,
while winds grow intensly
& skies darken to an eerie black

Fears of a possible funnel cloud
now begin to form in reality 
Anchors are regained as boat captains'
gear themselves towards safety upon
these waters, aspiring towards
safer havens as ferocity passes

As quickly as darkness has appeared,
radiant rays of sunlight penetrate greyness
of clouds, cutting into glistening waters
like a silver bladed knife cuts thru many 
layers of a wedding cake

Life  returns to slower pace of normalcy
as a large sea turtle surfaces catching
a bit of solar warmth cast upon this
magnificant world of azure water

Sea oats now stand erect, like small 
soldiers protecting their beach, 
restrengthening -
for the next tumultous reign
of inclement weather

Details | Virginia Muller Poem

No Conscience

N eurotic are they
O blivious to what others say

C allous at heart
O bnoxious to most
N arcotics could be the host
S acred to oneself
C onscience left on a shelf
I  ndiscretion as an act of variance
E goism a total annoyance
N arcissism that is unbreakable
E stranged until they become humble

Details | Virginia Muller Poem

An Old Pickle Jar

A dusty, wooden table, painted a vibrant
red, stands alone in a vacant ole'
farmhouse kitchen.  Nearby is a
window sporting many panes of 
broken glass, allowing vivid sunlight 
to filter throughout this rotting structure.

A large jar adorns this wobbly 
legged piece of furniture.
A brown wilted vine drapes itself over 
the edge, meeting a dry, splintered wooden
floor, covered of mud, dead grass
and murky colored yellow weeds.

As I canvass this grim place, a vision
of sunniness glinting from old
glasswork fills my mind of what this room
may have once contained.  Light, airy
happy memories of a mother's
home baked cookies for her children, 
holidays and family gatherings.

Indeed, an empty pickle jar filled
with lustrous sunshine can put a
smile within one's heart.

Details | Virginia Muller Poem

Special Moments

A secluded cabin
fail-safe  into a mountain side -
Oh, so high, one feels
they can attain and adjoin the clouds

A pallet of goose-down feathers, veiled
by a hand sewn comfortor
and a spiderlike, dusty canopy - 
a paradise for lovers

A perfect weekend -
paired with a bubbly jacuzzi
awaiting after a mile  
rambling up, then down, this 
lofty snow covered rock

A babbling brook and glossy
chestnut stallions trail along an
old gravel road, leading to a 
dilapidated barn, now masking
wet hay, squirrels and wild rabbits

Snakes have shed their skins, 
like elongated strands of silk
dangling from beams of rotten wood 
and imperfect slate shingles - 
Leaving their past in the present
for countryside tourists to enjoy

Bluegrass music is heard faintly
in the wilderness background
A rustic, but elegant
way to spend time, enabling
a soul to touch one's inner self

Tomorrow beckons way too soon --
reality returns, this dream weekend
now a fond memory,
as we take our leave of that
little creekside cabin on a
snow covered mountain crest

Details | Virginia Muller Poem

Grandfather Clock

An Antique Clock, a familiar place
Gathers dust -
and rust
But three gold chimes which hang lo' face
As Its hands go 'round
Familiar sound repeats
The pendulum, "to -fro, to - fro"
of-time, out-of-rhyme
Honestly - slo'!
ten minutes?
A top o'clock, a world of stars         
Continues tickin', like an old pro
Ne'er been moved, of fear, to break
Age- two hundred years?
Many Times, might've sold
Yes priceless, to behold
Any replicate, fake
Singin' - ringin' steady tune makes   
Tick-Ding - Tick-Ding
Agnize it's noon
A few minutes, give or take
Envision the hours spent
As Time-keeper - Grandpa King

The years pass -
minutes, sent, spent -
from high
generations -
Happily observe, some with disdain
Hundreds passed, a handsome piece
Nephews, a niece
children-Grand, great ones, too
Sons, daughters, lovers, and well
A place to dwell
If only we knew - 
what this "Granddad" would tell
Memories, millions are they
As seconds continue to play
and Centuries travel...
Endless, where has it been, where...

Details | Virginia Muller Poem

Eerie Feeling of DeJa Vu

One sinister night, heavy laden with a
dense layer of fog, no presence of
moon or stars.  Shrieks
of a tree-dwelling owl and eerie noises 
of a double iron gate, hanging,
swinging loosely on rusted hinges at 
an entrance to an old rural cemetery,
was all I immediately heard.

One could barely see the age-old
granite headstones of ancestors
interred centuries ago.

Wait!  Are those footsteps I hear
in the distance?  

Is it just my imagination?

A slight breeze rustles fallen leaves, and 
feelings of fear cause my mind to visualize
spirits and shadows darting in, out, everywhere
around me.  Thus invading the resting places of 
these rusticate deceased souls.

As I awaken, veiled in a blanket of sweat,
great relief overwhelms me, alters me 
into a state of reality.  I arise from my moist
bed sheets, opening heavy drapes, foreseeing
a glorious morning sunrise.

To my horror, all that presents outside
my bedroom window is gray, dark, dense fog.

Quickly, I close the curtains, asking myself;
"Was it only a dream, or was there 
something more?"

Indeed, an eerie feeling of Deja vu!  

Details | Virginia Muller Poem

Childhood Delight

Childhood delight, if meant to be
S'mores-gas-bord, little choc-o-chips
A Peanut Butter-Jelly tree

Capri Sun, lil' pouches - hmm - see
Jumping rope, and hop a few skips
Childhood delight, if meant to be

Squirrels & birds, quickly, munch with glee
Tree-crow protects from bunnyips                  
A Peanut Butter-Jelly tree

Sneaky, scavengers disagree
these treats for itty-bitty snips
Childhood delight, if meant to be

Problems could arise - gollee gee
Peanuts  fall, they'll grab with grips
A Peanut Butter-Jelly tree

Nocturne critters, smaller bee
leaving behind few honey drips
Childhood delight, if meant to be
A Peanut Butter- Jelly tree

Details | Virginia Muller Poem

A Silver Slide

I wander through a
thicket of broken branches
and dense leaves as
shimmering, silver water
forms a silken slide,
as it descends o'er top
a high mountain peak.

Colors of gray, blue & yellows glint
as they bounce off a bright sun, forming
rainbows against an epoch which
slowly fades into an eve of
pinks and melon hues.

Spittles of water splash
into the air, like tiny diamonds.
Splaying about on soft
mossy mounds of green
carpeted rocks at a 
lowermost portion of the falls.

Calm breezes speak 
through branches of
trees laden with viridity,
capturing fire beetles
of intense, yet susuruously,
flickering light.

Intense sounds
resonate from below
this spectacular fountain,
as aquatic plants display
their beauty in a slowly
darkening surrounding.

Thus once again, bringing 
peace and tranquility.
Leaving one breathless
to an ever changing, dynamical 
universe, as my wandering 
continues through this thicket 
of broken branches and dense leaves......