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Andrew Crisci Poem
God named me a straying cloud,
and by His perpetual wish I abide...
as the loneliest cloud floating on the earth's breeze.
I glance below and discover the yellow daffodils pride,
and fluttering they dance beneath the apple trees;
and as a sparrow I feel the bond.
My night visitation is more exciting than broad daylight,
I encounter many stars and make them my friends,
and they love shining on the Milky Way...
looking down on the lonely bay so bright;
and tossing their luminous heads, they brightly dance:
so happy they have come my way!
Even the ocean's waves join them in their play,
but their dance is better than theirs,
and at such wondrous sight I make verse...
being offered their warm company;
I am amazed by how they roll and still gazing away,
I do admire the spectacle that gladdens me.
So often, on my couch I gladly lie to rest,
but overwhelmed by empty or moody thoughts,
that splendid image flashes in the glow of the sunset;
my daffodils still wave and invite me to dance,
and I dance with them, making a happy sound...
not to feel the loneliness of a lost cloud.
Entered in Brian Strand's Adaption poetry contest
This is an adaption of Williams Wordsworth's poem,
"I wandered lonely as a cloud"
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009
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Andrew Crisci Poem
Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love,
making the artist's delighted face glow...
when every vision has been achieved,
and each intention joyfully revealed.
He will envision the shape and colors,
then transfer those images to canvas;
and with the gentles strokes of his brush...
real faces will appear and suddenly blush.
Thinker and dreamer, let passion and imagination flow,
don't be distracted by worries or external sounds below;
work diligently with your brush, transcending your own credibility...
but later, it would be too hilarious to scream out your insanity.
Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love...
that enduring, timeless legacy hard to ignore;
when others show admiration, you'll be so pleased
and motivated to add more laurels to your prestige.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009
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Andrew Crisci Poem
It can be an orchard with peach trees against patches of blue
as they swerve downhill and meet the foaming sea,
see him capture an indelible moment after
moment until he's amazed by that wonder
to have captured a breathtaking view...
which will be eternally frozen in his memory.
A photographer lives what he feels,
wouldn't it be a celebrity on high heels,
or the most gorgeous child cuddling a puppy
that she saw shivering when snow fell in February?
Didn't he anxiously climb that remote, sun-sunken mount rising in the East...
to find tiger cubs suckling from their mother as she watched a flock of sheep?
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2012
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Andrew Crisci Poem
Blame
yourself for
the things your
children say and do;
they got them from your
nasty looks, gestures and unkind words...
read them some stories from the Bible!
Mothers more than fathers should be their teachers;
no vile words they should speak, good manners count:
clean and obedient upbringing pave the way for future success,
discipline and behavior makes them stand out from other naughty kids!
All parents must play an important role in their children's lives,
if they do stupid things, correct them, not rebuke them;
nicknames aren't that funny and they will resent them,
have patience, teach them all the right ways
by allowing them to make some mistake!
Isn't perfection so hard to achieve?
Does that perfect one exist?
Human Nature has flaws,
fall and rise:
glory is
yours!
Entered in Shadow Hamilton's contest,
" Double Reverse Etheree "
Written on 9/ 20/2014
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2014
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Andrew Crisci Poem
Lover, touch her with a gentleness
which maker her quiver with passion;
when whispered words matter,
a delightful thought can enlighten
her sublime smile lost in happiness,
what else will she desires more than love?
Inside the fire is unquenchable,
and the joy is unsurmountable:
when it is started and given
by a lover with gentle hands;
a lover whose trust in her is pure!
In that meadow where wild flowers
are a dazzling red and invite fragile butterflies,
the waving grass of the fragrant hill
turns a solar yellow in extreme heat...
as two lovers weave amazing dreams
by the shade of a willow tree;
and who knows this season better than they?
Lover with gentle hands,
never take those hands away;
keep caressing her, never pretend;
and whenever she asks for another kiss:
be generous and make her delirious...
as the southern wind brings
another fragrance of distant memories
that a forgetful lover leaves behind!
Even this memorable day is coming to its end,
and the kisses intensify as you wish for stars...
chasing away the scarlet sunset with impatient eyes;
and she gladly expresses that intense imotion,
never refusing, ever obedient and silently
she lets every sense be taken by imagination...
only feeling the gentle hands of a lover, who demands
nothing more than faithfulness and generosity!
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2008
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Andrew Crisci Poem
No mother would fill up her eyes with tears of woman...
if it weren't for God performing a miracle at dawn,
as she cried out in joy and held her baby in trembling arms
but shed many sweet tears hearing his laughter so loud;
oh, he couldn't see her mommy's face through his tiny eyes,
and it will be long before he'll will utter the first word, " Mom."
Now that baby sleeps under the attentive look of his mom,
who's too young to become a mature woman;
many visions of this birth crossed her gleeful eyes
she dreamed of the very same words whispered at each dawn,
repeating them in her silly head as if they sounded too loud...
while cradling a pretty doll in her folded arms.
Will she be welcomed home by her parents opening their arms?
Will they reprimand her and not consider her a legal mom?
Perhaps they will not be angry and speak not so loud:
girls are supposed to be girls, not suddenly turn into woman...
So this innocent girl, deceived by a bad boy, must wake up at dawn
when her baby cries and feed him with scary, childish eyes?
Nights seem longer for her, trying to stay awake rubbing her eyes,
what she beheld in those exciting eyes, now it's a burden in her weary arms;
she remembers that pain was too unbearable, but joy more sublime at dawn...
how will she learn how to care for the infant by watching her mom?
She must have seen a nursery or read a book how to think like a real woman,
and can anyone imagine how she keeps that secret instead of revealing it loud?
She must gather enough courage inside to feed her baby who can't cry loud,
but for now she must carry that baby without sighs of distress into her bright eyes;
and her parents can see the changes making her a loving person already woman;
they may ask questions to why she has gained weight and holds dolls in her arms...
no, they aren't anticipating great news and in doubt, they await a splendid dawn.
Mother and daughter closely together amazed by the coming dawn,
any concealed secret can be easily spoken...somewhat joyful and loud;
they imagine the infant's futures will be part of grandma and mom!
Their reunited hearts come together to show love in their delighted eyes,
and they'll take turns feeding the new-born, tenderly lulling him in their arms;
what if forgiveness hadn't been there to deny her all of the joys of woman?
Would a mother deny her daughter compassion as a good woman?
Even God hurried dawn to offer that gift into her gracious, tender arms...
and those arms accepted it with the gentleness and kindness of mom.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010
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Andrew Crisci Poem
Notice how the stars
are pulling away from us,
and their light is less luminous?
I remember seeing them closer
than the flickering lightning bugs;
now even they fly to another universe...
An ever-changing universe
is an admonition of events
coming to an awful conclusion,
and as it extends further into infinity,
our fears grow too real to dispel mystery;
nights without stars
is a sea without sails,
pity the lonely moon staring in confusion...
The eclipse of the effulgent moon,in mid-winter,
covered the solar surface with obscurity,
even momentarily,we felt its density
and leaned on the edge of despair;
when light returned, hope was restored
in an ever-changing universe so vast and cold...
Only astronomy sees the changes
to enforce this belief on us,
and elucidates them with exact details;
and if we are deprived of perception:
we must tap our intuition
and flee with an ever-changing universe,
before every star disappears from our skies...
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2008
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Andrew Crisci Poem
I'm stuck in a puddle of mud,
unable to make a quick decision...
whom should I choose from among
others who have been so noble and kind?
More than a name comes to mind:
Linda, Carrie, Deborah, Catie, Rhoda, Danielle, Charmaine and Karen...
please don't be envious if I choose Carolyn!
You all are beautiful sweethearts, and I wouldn't sell you for a song!
After my day closes in, I check my soup mail...and there they are
those wonderful names flashing on my computer's screen,
and dazzling like precious gems in a crown! Many more should be
mentioned, highly praised and underlined with a marker:
Andrea, Emy, Joyce, Constance, Iolanda, Elaine, Laura and Carol.
One thing I can attest, nobody is greater than the other,
because they all have captured me as I have caught butterflies
with features so distinct and feminine as heroines of modern times!
Carolyn, be dazzled and feel proud, if not hysterically happy;
and if my choosing is fair, why should there be any contention,
or envy among them...I am pretty sure that they have secret admirers,
who in the same manner of awe and respect, constantly worship them!
Cheer up ladies, I have mentioned you all in my praise poem,
but only one gets this special rose...I hope they will send yours today!
I love you all as I love Carolyn for her honesty and graciousness,
then why don't you congratulate her and deepen your admiration?
My praise poem is dedicated to Carolyn Devonshire
living in Florida, USA
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010
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Andrew Crisci Poem
Until tomorrow, feel safe in my warm embrace;
don't feel the rage of those frightening storms...
whisper a passionate wish--- a sentimental phrase.
Stars won't appear to delight, excite and appease;
and with gloominess and clouds to marr our days...
until tomorrow, feel safe in my warm embrace.
We are stupefied by the butterflies's frantic dance;
they swirl with joy, then slowly land on our shoulders...
whisper a passionate wish--- a sentimental phrase.
Shunning faith and obedience is to live without grace;
God has blessed us and given us true happiness...
whisper a passionate wish---a sentimental phrase.
And should unfaithfulness ever bring us disgrace,
let that thought quickly vanish into darkness;
until tomorrow, feel safe in my warm embrace...
whisper a passionate wish---a sentimental phrase.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010
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Andrew Crisci Poem
Take notice of those exceptional and fearless minds that
spew out words when they are denied liberty,
they can awaken a latent truth suppressed by malevolent
forces that ruthlessly rule over their destiny!
Your words and mine will echo in every land darkened by a despicable evil,
then the powerful light of our insight will make the potent tremble and twist;
dream happily, write freely and speak loudly never being silenced for an ideal:
go and proclaim each truth and feel the joy of that glorious moment at last!
We fling strong words instead of drawing swords, the battle of controversial ideas
can be fought with grit and perseverance even when the odds are against us,
but many will be disheartened if there's no victory: who can foresee defeat?
So be confident and make your efforts worthwhile...soon we'll hear the drums' beat!
Your words and mine will echo in every land that is hushed by many fears,
let the river of justice flow and redeem all that was unfairly lost to a wild wind;
go forward with confidence and take back your worth by opening eyes and ears...
"Prosperity is the pride of a people that shouldn't allow vanity to exist in their land! "
Copyright ( c ) 2015 by Andrew Crisci
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2015
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