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Best Poems Written by Sharon Tideswell

Below are the all-time best Sharon Tideswell poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

Tattered Jeans and Old T-Shirts

That day by the lake,
tattered jeans and old t-shirts,
my hand in your back pocket as we walked,
your thumb
hooked over the top of my waistband.
It was hot,
...damned hot.

You tilted your hat at a silly angle and laughed,
I looked over and thought
'Hot,
...damned hot'

Smiles exchanged and then a kiss,
I think I melted inside.
We took turns walking backwards
holding both hands
drinking in the sight of each other.

Of course we fell,
you to the floor
and me...
     
completely in love.

Making a frame with my hands,
a captured moment,
'smile for the camera'
and what a smile it was.

Sitting together in the long grass,
both our hats at silly angles,
you made a frame in front of us,
as I kissed your cheek,
and captured a memory.

Images stored safely in my jeans pocket,
not the one with the hole,
that day by the lake...
it was perfect.

Only now I realise
one camera never worked.
The image of you, still vibrant
as that day,
but the one of us
you made with your hands
faded to barely a whisper.

That day by the lake
we both fell...
but only one fell in love.

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

You, Me and the Open Sea

Just you, me and the open sea,
in a boat with a big white sail.
We’ll ride the surf and laugh with glee,
said the centipede to the snail.

We’ll point our boat towards the sun
as it sets on the edge of the land.
We’ll sing sea songs and have some fun
as we sail away from the sand.

You can search the waves for silver stars
to brighten the blackest night sky,
then catch them in your wee glass jars
before hanging them out to dry.

I myself will fish for a moon,
said the centipede with a smile.
I know I’ll net one really soon,
if not in a very short while.

We’ll light the dark with fairy lights
and just wait for a lullaby
of mermaids bringing golden kites,
then off to our dreams we will fly.


**I wrote this for my niece Ella on her third birthday

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

The Tale of Miss Jenny Prime

Let me tell you the story of Miss Jenny Prime,
who spent all of her days making everything rhyme.
It was thought she’d outgrow this strange childhood spell,
but her fetish just grew and made her parents’ life hell.

When Miss Prime was a baby, still sporting a bib,
each night she was cuddled, then placed in a crib
by her doting young parents, who thought it quite funny
to give her a pet name, “Sleep tight Hunny Bunny.”

And that was the start of poor Jenny’s plight,
forced to listen to vowel chimes night after night.
Before long she was making up rhymes for herself,
all her un-rhyming toys were just left on the shelf.

Even quenching her thirst could cause quite a stink,
no O.J for Jenny, her drink had to be pink.
They bought her some shoes, red, shiny and new,
“I’ve told you, I’m not wearing a shoe that’s not blue”

She demanded a dog so they went to the pound,
she picked the fattest one there, just to have a round hound.
Her bed had to be red, her jeans had to be green,
and a fish dish for dinner or she’d cause a right scene.

Stamping her feet she cried “I should be Jenna,
and for pocket money, I should be getting a tenner”
Each Friday brought tantrums, as she hardly had any,
reluctantly taking just a penny for Jenny.

Her increase in years simply brought more despair,
she bleached ebony locks for she needed fair hair.
The colours of clothes always caused her to cry,
so to get round the problem she learned to tie-dye.

Now I know it will come as some sort of surprise,
but Jenny had caught a young gentleman’s eyes.
He knew things would be tough, but he’d give it a try
so, with posies of roses, he dared to drop by.

The roses were great and he was kinda cute,
he’d even gone to the trouble of tie-dying his suit.
He was called Jack Kilkenny, his name did not rhyme,
so she told him to leave and stop wasting her time.

But Jack was his nickname, his real name was Lenny.
Alas, this information was not known to Jenny.
He was perfect for her, a match better than any,
for if they’d wed they’d be Lenny and Jenny Kilkenny.

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

Where Reveries Reside

Tears subside,
hushed breaths draw ebbing tide,
soft virgin sands, un-walked and damp, shine.

A delicate filigree of silvery brine
brings an interlude where grief and beauty entwine,
gently swaying between now and then.

Thoughts of ‘remember when’
stir again.

Scattered far and wide,
bygones shimmer in rock pools,
scents on breezes ride...
elusive remnants of love
under bitter-sweet moonlight.

There is a place where reveries reside,
ensconced in time between the lows and highs,
where troubles disappear in ocean’s sighs
and hopes return with happiness inside.

Where shades of blue, and rose hues coincide
to nurture promises of sweet reprise,
there is a place where reveries reside,
ensconced in time between the lows and highs.

A haven to reflect on love’s divide,
recall that smile, the twinkle of those eyes
with fondness, then let woven dreams arise
with threads of gilded memories to guide...
this is the place where reveries reside.





**For Jared Pickett's Trois Par Huit /Tanka/Rondel contest

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

Forty Winks

I am a narcoleptic,
I sleep at any time,
no doubt I’ll drop off frequently
before I end this ………………………………rhyme.

It can be quite embarrassing,
between just me and you,
in the bank the other day
I dozed off in the queue.
As if that wasn’t bad enough
I let out quite a snore,
a real raucous rasper
that left my throat quite sore.

My constant napping problem
has somewhat skewed my fate;
destined to be a spinster,
I snooze on each first date.

There was one special fella
who took me out to dine,
my face was drawn into my plate
as I closed these eyes of mine.
He gave me money for the bill
and stifling a grin
he walked away and whispered
“You’ve something on your chin”

I think I’ll have to end now,
I’m sensing heavy blinks,
I cannot write another word
I need my forty ………..................... winks 



** for Nikko's 'Your Snooze, You Choose' contest

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

A Blue Rose Sings

Upon a deep blue rose, a scented song,
so delicate of harmony and sweet;
a melody, whose strains of love replete
I mused upon. To whom could it belong?
To claim such ballad ought have felt so wrong,
but I could ne’er its memory delete;
each note an echo in my own heart’s beat,
alluring me to drift and sing along.

Though how I wish I’d never found the rose
whose music stirred a restlessness in me;
where love once blossomed only sorrow grows
from searching for a love that cannot be,
and timelessly a tear-blue river flows
through heartache’s vale to discontentment’s sea.

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

Painted Echoes

A wash of gold adorns the westward sky
as waning light departs a summer’s eve;
in readiness to roost, crows cease to fly
and seek their resting place among the leaves.

Past toasted rooftops, twilight bids the sun
must softly slip away to realms afar,
with liquid grace, sun-kisses fall undone            
and drench the dusk in honey-toned memoir.

Time lengthened shadows whisper to the moon,
enticing her to wear her slender smile.
With reticence, she answers to their tune,
enriching night’s black canvass for a while…

still wearing notes of summer-sweet bouquet,
recalled from painted echoes of the day.

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

Live Laugh Love (Caressed By Moonlight)

Listening to your heartbeat
I lie with my head on your chest 
Voile curtains softly billowing in the breeze from the open window
Ecstasy still flowing through our veins 

Lately we have become much closer
A true friendship now mingles with physical attraction
Unimpaired by our past lives
Gently, you curl your arm around me as you sleep
How truly happy that makes me feel

Light from a waxing moon creeps in
Over your sleeping form
Verifying my adoration of you
Even now, I can’t believe how lucky I am to have a life so full of love and laughter.


 



**Too bad it's not autobiographical ;)
** for the LIVE LAUGH LOVE contest

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

A Single Rose

For you, my love, I’ll be a single rose
of crimson hue, and velvet to the touch.
So warm in contrast to your fallen snows,
yet yearning for the thrill of winter's clutch.
Soft petals form a heart so firm and true,
unyielding to the tempest of your reign,
and though a cold wind nurtures doubt in you,
such purity of love I could not feign.

Dilemmas of the soul so keenly felt.
Bestow my love? or must it stay a dream?
for if I warmed your heart 'twould surely melt
and I would lose you to the flowing stream.

And so, my love, this single rose I’ll hide
and keep the love I feel for you inside.

Details | Sharon Tideswell Poem

A Midsummer Dream

Elusive
sÓft whispers 
on lavender breeze
“cÓme with me, follÓw me,
set yÓur heart free”
In sun-dappled shade,
‘neath the Óld apple tree,
drinking liquor Óf
gÓld as it
 
d

r

i

p
 
s 

through the leaves.


** original colours are green and gold, but it doesn't appear I can do that here. No worries, just hope it doesn't lose too much effect by being black & white :)