23 Poems | Examples

Dance of the Fireflies 15-11-23

Nature's lanterns aglow in the velvet night,
guided by them, muted laughter echoes with delight.
A mirror of geniality in the hand of darkness,
the flickering glow of flying artists.

Children softly exhale around ashen remains,
their bodies in slumber but not so their brains.
Enveloped in the golden aurora of earth-bound constellations,
enchanting dreams begin to flow.

Aureate beings rise from every child,
gathering into one glistening file.
A river of angelic beings,
floodlike and sweeping.

Upon the backs of minute fireflies,
a shimmering bridge built on life
softly breathes and
ascends into the night.

23-09-23

Life is not a performance to be perfected
rather a hike where we stop to appreciate
the flowers on either side of the path,
even if we get lost or go wrong.
Today's mountain will seem like a hill from tomorrow
so make the ascension memorable.

Cherry Blossom 13-05-23

Soft petals in the wind doth blow,
a dance of beauty a dance of woe.
Delicate scents so sweet and fair,
a cherry blossom beyond compare.

Yet each petal falls to the ground,
a sharp reminder that life is unsound.
For even a blossom that is so grand
is subject to time's unyielding hand.

Fleeting and fragile, like the final breaths,
life ebbs and flows until its eventual death.
Beauty may shine but it cannot last,
a reminder that time cannot be surpassed.

So let us cherish each moment we find,
for life is a journey, not an endless grind.
Like the cherry blossom we must learn to let go
and embrace the finalities that make life so.

For it is only in this vulnerability we see,
the elegance and wonder of life's mysteries.
And though it may fade, like a Cherry blossom's bloom,
the memories we make will endure
like the sweetest perfume.

Fly and fly free 08-04-23

Up above a lone bird soars high,
a speck of movement in an azure sky
tainted, with the faintest streaks of white.
It spreads its wing majestically,
sunlight reflecting off its feathers,
glancing off its back.
The wind is its sole friend
as it glides over land and sea,
mountains and trenches,
cities and forests.
It goes wherever it wishes,
surveying its dominion below.
The scenes it will see, only it will know.
It flies far beyond the horizon,
pivoting and diving like an arrow
enjoying the cool air rush past its body.
Effortlessly, it glides
through sun, rain and snow,
nonchalant about what follows.
As it journeys without end across the plains,
it knows it is minute in comparison
and that its journey has just begun.
And so as we leave it to disappear from view
on its endless adventure,
we are reminded that we are not so different from it,
and it's about time we spread our wings.

Lost 04-04-23

Lost in the winding paths and roads,
wandering aimlessly,
pain building
struggling with no clear route to follow.

Each turn takes you further astray,
a new unexpected destination.
As confidence dwindles day by day,
the dreams begin to shake.

Lost in the web of life,
unsure of where to go,
walking along the edge of a knife
uncertain of what could follow.

Each step takes you away,
into a dark unknown space
another hidden corner of this world,
far from being great.

But within the darkness
a beacon of light begins to show,
a flicker of light,
the faintest of hopes.

That's when you dig deep 
and strength plus determination
will being to show.
Getting lost in life is tough
but it helps us learn and grow.

It guides us on our way,
helps us navigate the maze,
through all its twists and turns
until we reach the final place;
who knows where that will be.

If you ever feel adrift
in this expanse of a world,
just follow your heart
and trust that your own path will show.

A Boundless Utopia 16-03-23

Atop a grassy hill I sit,
gazing at the rich azure blue sky
watching a few birds fluttering in and out of my vision,
slicing through the air like knives.
I lie there for what feels like an eternity,
wind turbine turning in calculated motion
out of the corner of my eye.
My rucksack ties me to the ground,
filled with a thousand weights,
preventing me from being like those birds,
majestic, elate and carefree.
But I can imagine.

The innocent silky clouds transform and bend,
producing a multitude of bizarre objects,
an army commanded by the wind
sauntering across the horizon.
A world with no end, limited only by mortal minds,
a mini-universe floating just above our heads.
We are the creators of this fictional world,
where human though unfurls.

I see an emerald dragon,
a group of chariot wagons, their horses galloping.
A circus filled with the most exotic animals,
an ivy snake laced with diamonds,
a canoe slicing through the sky.
A gnarly oak, 
its trunk encased, fingers reaching infinitely high.
But each world is different for every one of us,
so tell me; what do you see
when you let your imagination
break free?

Spring's Embrace 14-03-23

A thousand different notes one hears
from the flute-like whistle of the thrush
to the chirp and twitter of the sparrow,
blended all into a single song;
Earth's welcoming of spring.

Sat there,
basking in the sunlight,
(the first in several weeks)
Spring's weather,
a hint of the summer to come.
Around us,
the wind whispers gently,
"Rejoice humble grass, it's time to break free"
and trees hurriedly recreate their leaves.

Spring is a time of freedom and growth,
as the horse which slept in its stable
hemmed in by the bitter cold
now roams the fields, completely free.
Amidst it,
dove white lilies and orange tulips thrive.
Nurtured by the glorious spring showers,
they sway and dance in its breeze.

Layered in scarves, gloves and a coat,
winter's icy embrace locking up her body,
nevertheless, under the frosted willow tree,
her eyes carry hope of that time
a mere three months beyond January.

Love Quiet Spell - Hiku 23

Written: June 26, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand

         **************

lilac w h i s p e r s      f
                                     a
                                          l
                                               l



beneath the       h          of your      g                                               
                    u       s                  a        z  ~
                         h                          e 


      l
  o      v      casts its   s
      e                              o
                                           f
                                                t    s-p-e-l-l

Early Summer Hiku 23

                 Early Summer Hiku 23

r -i -p e -n -I -n –g   cherries

	 h
               a
                 n
                    g
                      i
                        n
                           g    on trees in daylight   
                
                              bats feasting at night.  
                   

morning s –u –n –s –h –I –n –e

wastage and garbage on     g
                                                 r
                                                    o
                                                        u
                                                           n
                                                              d

   harvest hopes s ~h ~a ~t ~t ~e ~r ~e ~d.

Home is a faraway place 23-05-25

Staring out of a flapping tent door,
sunset is hidden behind the hills.
Cuddled up in a flimsy sleeping bag,
I dream of a warm bed.

Morning breaks- craving hot tea,
watching my breath mist up
in the mute cold of dawn,
longing for the whistle of a kettle.

Home is more than mattresses and pillows
but a haven,
where regardless of how wrecked we are,
the door will always be open.

Home is where we feel safe.

Some spend lifetimes searching
Some walk away without a glance.
Others sleep under a makeshift roof
falling asleep to the sound of dripping water.

Many wish they had one,
Somewhere to be themselves ...

Two departures, One arrival 08-12-23

Late at the airport, in haste we arrived.
Rumbling plastic wheels rushing in unity,
from tarmac to marble to carpet;
the shuffling queue dispersed, finally.
Luggage swept away, adorned with labelling.
Black and white tags mark a future, awakening.

A marathon sprint to the gate, a race against time
but a man dressed in opaque black approaches
and with regret explains
how just one seat remained,
a voice I'd never forget.
You spoke longingly of your mother's dearest day
and I swayed,
watched as your shadow boarded 
naive that I had just sealed our fates.

Now I sit, staring blankly
at your unopened case
wondering if we could've opened 
a different timeline in a different space.
If only we'd chosen to stay, chosen to wait.
Regrets waft through the cy air,
a melancholy echo of what could've been,
remnants of a longing to a love unseen.

Hiku 23

the deep snow

drifting in my mind

a summer day

In the woods 04-12-23

In the woods, a man, shadows dance
examining his fleeting silhouette, stuck in a trance.
He raises his fist toward the sun.
He sees its embrace, withdrawn.
He wonders is a shadow the absence of light
or the presence of darkness?
If both then why
when he raises his hand further to the sky,
does brilliance become substituted by obscurity?
Is he a bringer of darkness?
Or is darkness just unfortunate light.
Trapped beneath an opaque shrine.
Bidding its time for freedom.

Untitled-3rd Place Winner-April 23, 2025

To my mother
She's the closest thing to God I know
She's a giver of life, love
She's the music, the maestro
She brings the sun inside when it starts to rain
She finds the warmth inside the cold
Has a home if you need to stay
She's the one who guided us
Through all the forgotten years
The times that we would stumble
She would wipe away the tears
As God created the earth, the skies, the sea
God also had time to create My Mom
His best written poetry

Stardust Ink 25-11-23

When the ink runs dry in the introduction,
we look to the stars for a conclusion.

When the ink runs dry on tear stained pages,
we look to the stars for an explanation.

When the ink fades to scratches,
we look to the stars for salvation.

When we let the pen perish in the flames,
even stardust cannot bring about reconciliation.

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