Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.


Sestina Happiness Poems | Sestina Poems About Happiness

These Sestina Happiness poems are examples of Sestina poems about Happiness. These are the best examples of Sestina Happiness poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Sestina |

Revel Joyfully

It was on a cold night in Bethlehem that hope was born
A babe lay in a manger as angels sang joyfully
Above the nativity a star shone casting bright light
Guiding the paths of three wise men to welcome our Savior
As shepherds flocked toward the illuminated holy site
The warmth from within still touches the hearts of all mankind

In remembrance we pray for harmony among mankind
As we celebrate the first Christmas, optimism born
In the Mideast soldiers bow down, recalling this wondrous site
For just one night thoughts of war fade, hearts are filled joyfully
They lay down weapons, focusing on the birth of our Savior
As they huddle together, sharing good will by camp light

In many parts of the world, homes illuminated by light
Peace touches the hearts of those who seek blessings for mankind
Church bells ring, signaling the arrival of our Savior
Souls are touched as the restoration of joy is now born
Worshippers proceed to mass, sharing greetings joyfully
If only each day could be filled with such a loving site

How welcome to see the sun rise each day on such a site
Hearts abounding with humanity from our inner light
With angels in each of us sharing good will joyfully
If I live to see such days, I’ll have new hope for mankind
Trust and faith would emanate, celebrating a Child born
A Child, a Leader Who would give His life as a Savior

Cast aside the trappings, focus only on our Savior
Keep in mind this first Christmas, a blessed and holy site
How wonderful it would be to see new harmony born
Differences seem petty as we revel in God’s light
Join me in expectations for the future of mankind
Like the seraphs let us sing out in hymns so joyfully

Make our future one that finds families praying joyfully
No greater inspiration than the birth of our Savior
From a Blessed Mother’s womb sprang a babe to save mankind
Let us be wise men, finding cause to worship at this site
War and hatred cannot exist within God’s holy light
Acceptance of each man’s worth can in joyful hearts be born

Raise your hearts, revel joyfully in our Savior’s glory
In cheer mankind recalls the site of a manger at night
Where neath a star’s light was born a King, the Son of our Lord  
 



* Sestina written for the "Joy to the World" contest.  

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010


Details | Sestina |

Rubik's Cube Sestina

It has not once left me alone, the stubborn beauty,
It has called to me to be at last solved,
But I had left its secrets alone, the unknown pattern,
Colors telling stories left running around my head,
Every fragment remaining present at my side,
I've been left no choice but to learn the cube.

Subtlety not a strength of the cube,
It flashes its routine as a show of beauty,
A rotation giving some new meaning on every side,
It screams to me to be done and solved,
I cannot resist the call as it echos in my head,
As I am inclined to find the natural pattern.

It is not talent that I decode these patterns,
Wisdom pours from the pieces of the cube,
Strength to body, to my soul and head,
Until at last I can interpret that stubborn beauty,
New puzzles presented, new puzzles solved,
It remains with me ever at my side.

Others have put it from their side,
Trampled or mocked the power of pattern,
Convince their being that in their hands it can't be solved,
They self trap in the confines of the cube
Every aspect of both simple and dense beauty,
Lock and seal and throw away the key of their head.

Shame to me if trapped ever is my head,
With only ignorant misery to ever be at my side,
Gray-scale and dull would I find natural beauty,
Confusion certain to hold even with simple pattern,
Never would comprehension visit the cube,
Ever distant the problems from solved.

Joy to the heart that you may be solved,
Enlightenment to minds you posses our heads,
Wonderful truth in so small a cube,
Do not ever leave me, stay at my side
And whisper closely all your practical patterns,
Thank you for being such stubborn, stubborn beauty.

The pattern of the cube,
Can only be solved on every side,
If the beauty is in my head.

Copyright © Justin Benassi | Year Posted 2012

Details | Sestina |

Life is but a dream

Is this life but a dream? 
I once wondered to myself, in this life
Will we really find true happiness,
A place to which we can escape,
A place where there are no worries of the future,
Where we, once again, may envision life with the naivety of a child?

The life of a child
Is quite a lovely dream.
Sadly, as children we are often much too eager to reach the future.
We’re told, ”Take it one day at a time, this life,
Be sure to experience that great escape,
And most importantly, without regret, always indulge in your happiness.”

We seem to spend our whole lives searching for happiness.
It appears to vanish from our lives the moment we cease to be a child.
We attempt to find a method for which we are able to escape
From the trials and stress of our mundane lives. Losing ourselves in a dream,
We continue aimlessly through life,
Permitting ourselves no further notions of the future.

I have found that I am no longer satisfied living in a daze, I believe if I begin to live for the future,
I am bound to find that unequivocal happiness.
I must be honest; I, too, was never truly patient with life,
Underestimating the true meaning of it all; I was, unfortunately, a frivolous child.
I now see reason to abstain from placating ourselves in a fanciful dream.
I’ve gleaned its best to make the most of what we’re given; for there is no real possibility of escape.

So, I’ll no longer entertain the senseless musings of my grand escape,
For, I am learning to be confident and complacent in my future.
I’ll no longer consider the absurdities awaiting me in a fictitious dream,
Because I believe I have finally found my path to true happiness.
Thankfully, I am no longer a lost and ignorant child.
No longer will my time dissipate with no real worth; I aim to be forever grateful and joyous in my life.

There is no such thing as an eternal life,
And sadly, death is the only reprieve we get; in the form of that previously sought after escape.
However, in the wondrous eyes of a child,
Life seems everlasting; there is only ever the future,
And the possibilities of what it might hold; the promises full of love, laughter, and happiness,
And no such thing as a broken or unrealistic dream.

So, I’ll live my life forever striving towards the future,
While no longer pursuing any type of escape, I’ll be thankful and welcoming of any happiness
Afforded to me, and I’ll surely take time to encourage a child to make a reality of their dream.

Copyright © Teri LaRusso | Year Posted 2015


Details | Sestina |

Christmas City

windows smile in Christmas City
humbug with no place to go

Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2011

Details | Sestina |

A Changing Heart

Longing for heart-quiet
in the inevitable fall
into Winter’s short days of sun
forwarding to Spring’s
longer days — a circling back
in the sameness of time.

Heart-and-mind-numbing time
with no respite. A longing to quiet   
those thoughts playing back
battle after battle. The awful
repetition. Mind and life wasting.
And, in the darkest season,

the conviction that the sun 
will only half-rise in this lifetime
of mine. Feeling that sting 
as from a bee’s disquiet
of green slumber. Swelling to a fault,
every damned day. Slamming me back,

season upon season. Holding me back.
Chilling me with doubt that sun-
shine can overcome rainfall
and that, invariably, given time, 
better times will come and quietly 
advance into Spring. Fast forward, past Spring 

to Summer, and onto Fall springing
back to Winter, and round again. Flashbacks
ever more glaring under the sun, then, quite
out of the blue — a glance, a nod. Overrun 
with fluttering, my heart paces in time
with fledging love’s free-fall.

And, with the passing of another Fall,
Winter heralds in the sweetest of Springs:
daffodils and Easter bonnets — a lifetime
of celebration ahead, no looking back.
Past risk and reason, I bask in the sun
that is love’s shine. Rain or shine, quiet

in the peace of it all, Fall after Fall, back
to Winter, Spring, Summer. Quiet as a Spring sun 
bursting through clouds. Love, for all time, requited.

Copyright © Ruth Sabath Rosenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sestina |

Happiness and Joy

Never will another season bring so much joy
A feeling of love, togetherness and happiness
Ring out them festal bells and let’s be jolly
A savior was born, condescended, we are happy
We go to church, offer praise most joyful
Screams of delight, Children playing happily

Lovers holding hands gazing happily
At the beautiful sites, mountain's peaks, rivers of joy
Birds singing sweetly in the air, their songs so melodious and joyful
Every home, through their windows flowing sounds of rapture and happiness
The drunk on the street had one wish to make him happy
Give me some rum, he said, that will make me good and jolly

I played this song last night and it is so fitting, for the topic says Joyful, Joyful
It’s the season of good cheer, a time to give, to dance, to eat and be jolly
Only you can determine your level of happiness
To give of your means it is easy, but to give of yourself many cannot do this happily
Give without grudge, with no intention to receive, that's how giving becomes a joy
To exercise these gems will cleanse the soul; give warm feelings, make us happy

Laughter in the trees, laughter in the breeze, season of laughter, everyone is happy
Gift for baby, gift for mommy, gift for daddy, even the cats and dogs had to be joyful
What the world craves, so elusive for some, thank God in His love, we find great joy
Come one come all let’s jump on the bandwaggon, riding the coach called Super Jolly
The invitation is out, don’t settle in doubt, cast off your cares, ride with us, happily
Great people great love, warmth, sharing caring, all things good gives you happiness

Take friends, co-workers and fellow poets, toss in this great soup pot of happiness
Recycle love, make this world wonderful, song writer says, ‘don’t worry, be happy’
The world needs people who are positive, will see the best in others happily
A smile, a word of cheer, a few words of encouragement, make another’s day joyful
‘Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way’, what good is that if we are not jolly
The Lord has come, so unto this world be peace, love, and most important of all, joy

There is truth and beauty in the person with happiness, looking radiant and joyful
I would give my money just to be happy, to see my loved ones and friends real jolly
Luxury of life I would trade off hapilly, to have the thing the world craves for, joy




Copyright © Joy Wellington | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sestina |

The Wonder of Books




Since the publishing of the first book
Man has held this treasure in his hand,
A bit of magic bringing a new friend.

No limit to the wonder of this friend,
Between the pages of  your book
All the wonders of the world in hand.

The pleasure of holding in your hand,
Each time cultivating a new friend.
Adventures between the pages of a book.

He who has a book in hand, always has a friend.


Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sestina |

Raven's Love and Hope Kept Alive

Part II



“I walk a decrepit graveyard alone, in mists stirred by contrast winds
As a storm brews, I am grateful that I know in my heart he's alive 
Skies bream with promise of torrent rain and shelter must be found
It appears; I’ve lost my shawl, and feel the cold chill even as I dream
I’m convinced it’s due to the storm; not because I walk amidst the dead
Further, I see through clammy mist a mausoleum, looms in the silence 

As I near those rusty iron gates, leaves rustle loud in the silence 
And I picture armed vagrants once here, perhaps chased by the winds
Now I rest assured, I am alone as I search this place of the dead
Painful moans erupt from within; my heart leaps; could it be, he's alive?
‘Who are you?’ My hear raced fiercely, convinced, this concludes my dream 
Intermittent moonlight cast upon the floor, My Ross, at last is found!”


In a tomb her Ross laid in the silence; by love and hope kept alive
Calling upon soft summer winds; manifested in persistent dreams 
Which resounded that among the dead, her beloved would be found

~*~
By Annalise Brigham
For: A Rambling Poet’s “Among the Dead” Contest

Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2011

Details | Sestina |

Arm Chair Traveler

Is it any wonder
that words plucked out of the air
cannot describe these common things?
Too often, heedless, what eyes
acknowledge as ordinary, is ours
to behold with brighter vision, a privilege to savor

The scenery surrounds every curve. Let us savor
each contrast, views that stab our wonder
grabbing our fervor.  An open road, and the world is ours!
This is a time of admiration, a breath of new air
that is stirred by beauty seen with new eyes.
Mountains, valleys, rivers, streams, wondrous things!

We who split devotion into two things
He who loves the highlands, or he whose passion may be a seaside savored.
Let our wheels and hearts take us far, where eyes
would spy a snow capped peak, where climbing trails would make one wonder
how the view must be from elevation, or how thin the air
How looking down upon the vast, an earth that's ours

Perhaps we'll see a mighty purple rise, while having our
first glimpse of the western sky.  While packing our things
let us not haste to travel on..let us linger, hold the vision, that takes air
from lungs, delay departure.  Savor
a picnic from the road, to dawdle, chat and wonder
where the next stop should find us, and what will feast our eyes

Where days are bright and the sun and breeze sting our eyes
Choosing to take the back road highways, our
wheels flying like wings over hills and valleys, and wonder
of all wonders....discovery delight in the smallest things,...
a seagull soaring above, a blue blue sky at his back, a sun to savor
Finding thrill from the damp foggy morning, or the sunshine and salty air

Perhaps a seaside village, so quaint and sweet, having an air
of vintage life. Or skycrapers meeting the modern day sky, which rise in amazement 
before eyes
The choices are unlimited, so much to savor
The choice to dream can be ours
There are no proper words to describe these things...
Is it any wonder?

A chance to breathe the air from a high mountain peak is ours 
A chance for eyes to feast on a wave or breeze of seaside things...
Close eyes, imagine them all, and be impelled to savor a world of wonder


...............................
For Carol Brown's contest...."It's Time For A Vacation"

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2011

Details | Sestina |

Avacado, Amoretto

Silently bathed in avocado,          
you soaked in the fragrance of a blanket
At midday, crunched your teeth   
into something sweet and yellow,
no flower still no pretty petal;      
I’ll make our evening coffee, I’ll make amoretto. 

Why is it you liked amaretto             
so much? As if the melted avocados 
weren’t enough, to stare at petals       
in the dark, stained blanket                
etherized beneath a star shine yellow
Stare, as I stare at the white crevice: your teeth 

that are your smile, your teeth
that become stained with the last sip of amaretto,
stained with our silence and the color yellow.
Like the silver knife who’s blade slips through the avocado,
and I wish for more minutes in a day to sit on this blanket
And more staples in this life to puncture the heart of a petal

Its mushy translucence conveys innocence, oh petal!
How I’d much like to forget and sink, or clap, my teeth
in rage but here upon this blanket
exists no rage. Here is where we sip our amaretto
And can think of nothing but the next bite of avocado
When, failing words, failing thought, a yellow

taxicab honks distantly, barely distinguishable from the yellow
buzzing bee in my hair. Swiftly landing on a nearby petal
whose delicate arms, the juice of the avocado
gently outpours from gaps between our teeth,
lover.  Lover of the sky, lover of chocolate, and amaretto.
Lover asleep on cushioned soul of the yellow blanket

baked in brilliance from the sun, yellow blanket 
under our footsteps, under our yellow 
bodies painted in the sensuous scents of amaretto
with gum like innocence floating over any petal.
Don’t get me started that I need to brush my teeth 
When yours are green with Avocado

and leaf, like the print on the blanket, yellow like yonder petal
whose strong scent reaches the taste of my teeth, stained coffee yellow
from the over-indulgence, avocado, amaretto.

Copyright © Brooke Wolfe | Year Posted 2007

Details | Sestina |

Raven's Love and Hope Kept Alive

As night falls swiftly; no respite for a heart can be found 
She dares not invoke sleep, so she paces the floor in silence 
For to fall asleep would mean, a revisit of that dreadful dream
Ominous clouds cover the moon, carried on by rushing winds 
As she searches for her husband, with hope that he is alive 
That the dream is no foreboding; that he lies injured and not dead

Raven, dressed in black satin; searches diligently among the dead
The pain and anxiety lingers, as she awaits news that he is found
Fear it seems, has sensed determination; leaving hope alive
Dark clouds roll as ravens circle high above, in the prevailing silence.
Though the massive search is over, yet his voice calls in the winds
If only he’d walk through the door; and put to bed this recurring dream

Where each night, she’s awakened, by parts of an unfinished dream
She refuses to dwell on morbid thoughts, for her beloved is not dead!
As she feels his spirit still lives and has not drifted upon summer winds!
There is just one option left, which is, Ross would have to be found 
In his library, his favorite cigars lie untouched in the stoic silence
Every flower in their garden droops, as if in prayer that he'd be alive

Intuition prods her to dream again; find clues that he may be alive
A Hypnotist in his expertise would escort her through the dream 
Come the appointed day, throughout their house hung total silence
Her eyes were heavy as lead, yet while she dreamt, clear sight was found
And deep, somewhere between the distinct worlds, living and dead
Through thick mists she trods unafraid, as though riding on soft winds

~*~

Cont'd on Pg. II
A. Brigham
FOR:  A Rambling Poet's "Among The Dead" Contest

Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2011

Details | Sestina |

Inner Child

In the unrestrained laughter of children,
is the exalted, purity of joy.
Just seeing that first Crocus of the Spring
or kittens, their antics, exuberant.
You can't help but smile, in wonderment,
at the abundance of simple pleasures.

To watch vibrant sunsets, brings great pleasure.
As does a phone call, from both my children.
I'll recall their eyes, filled with wonderment,
and their squeals, as fresh snow fall, brought pure joy.
Their young minds, bounding with exuberance,
playing outside, in the warm days of Spring.

I love new baby animals at spring.
Their mothers, showing them off, with pleasure.
Playing, jumping, with such exuberance.
I am happy to have all the children,
with which to share these adventures and joy.
To see their eyes, grow big in wonderment.

I remember my own childhood wonders.
Seeing big rainbows in the skies of Spring.
Hearing birds, in the morning, sing with joy.
Watching mom, tend her roses, with pleasure.
My Grandmother, would send out us children,
to go play and use up our exuberance.

Now it's Grandchildren, with exuberance,
that find, in their lives, so much to wonder.
See the world through the eyes of a child,
the seasons; Winter, Fall, Summer and Spring.
I can't think of anything more pleasant,
than to watch them, their lives, filled with such joy.

Life in the desert, has brought me much joy.
Thunderstorms, beat my heart, exuberant.
My heart and soul, revived, with the pleasures.
Rugged beauty, fills my mind with wonder.
As life giving rains, that herald the Spring,
welcomes all of natures newborn children.

I find joy and exuberance abound,
in the pleasures and wonders within life.
That spring forth, from the child, within me.



For the contest:  Joy To The World
Placement: 6th





Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sestina |

Ode To Joy Of Changing Seasons

Sunlight at an angle dancing through colored leaves
Cool nights to snuggle beneath the sheets; warm days of ease
Last of gardens harvest; goodbye to summer's bees
Joyful time to harvest soon days a breeze
Pumpkins, winter squash, turnips, and peas
Food in bounty stored away for many days

Christmas will be upon us in just a very few days
The yard will be raked again and again to rid of leaves
Garden vegetables will be stored also cooking of peas
For right after Christmas comes New Years Day with ease
The howling winds will blow and it won't be just a breeze
But now all the bugs have disappeared_gone are the bees

We will not have to worry with yellow jackets or bees
As the night grow longer and shorter the winter days
March soon will come in bringing its strong breeze
Those indominable buds show forth on the trees soon leaves
We will float into warm days and beauty of  spring with ease
Now we will have eaten most of those delicious peas

Soon in the newly planted garden_those early June Peas
Newly hatched from their hiding places comes those bees
Just lying around in the hammock with all this ease
These wonderful times_joy of longer days
Joy, oh! joy and joy again with spring's green leaves
Soft and gentle comes a blowing spring's warm breeze

But there is one less chore now for there is no raking leaves
Afternoon in the lazy hammock oh what ease
Glad that in the garden and Pampas Grass stay those bees
These times in life are just fun and a zephyr breeze
Summer comes with the picking, shelling, and freezing peas
These times are wonderful long sunny days

But soon slowly fade, then the change in those leaves
Summer still has a lazy few days with comfy ease
Even if the pollen draws those hungry stinging bees
From the west and north come a much drier breeze
How thankful that we have those great peas
Soon fade those longer sunlit sunny days

No raking leaves in winter, only by firelight with ease and read
All those pesky bees gone now, on the currents winter's breeze brings flurries
Now dine on peas put away to eat on cold fruitless days of old man winter

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sestina |

"Reflections of the Season's Tomorrows"

Reflections of the Season’s Tomorrows

Wondering how long before tomorrow.
Watching the door every time someone passed.
Trembling hands reached out for a moments joy. 
Her rosy cheeks and eyes were now faded.
Weeping, sitting in her room, she looked around.
Her aged heart had been for children waiting.

Ever since they left, she had been waiting.  
Promising, they said, “We’ll come tomorrow.”  
Reflections of the seasons shone around.  
But in her heart lived pain as each day passed.  
Her memories and delights, now, somehow faded.  
As youngsters they had been her only joy.  

Too much time gone; she could not feel their joy.  
So many of her days spent hoping, waiting. 
Her utmost fear was that their love had faded. 
She thought that there would not be a tomorrow. 
The sparkles in her eyes had all but passed.  
She spent each lonesome day dazed, looking around. 

Suddenly, they were there, children all around!
For the first time in years, she regained her joy –
One by one, she hugged them; loving glimpses passed.  
The time had come for which she had been waiting.  
Her dream arrived; at last it was tomorrow.  
Pain that she had felt forgivingly faded. 

Thankfully, love for them had not faded.  
Her gleaming eyes sent adoration around.  
All thanked God above for this new tomorrow.  
Grandchildren bounced balloons squealing with joy.  
It happened on a day she wasn’t waiting.  
One by one, the children kissed her as they passed.  

Each caring look joined reality; time passed.  
Her fragile squeeze showed them love had not faded 
Although she had been tirelessly waiting, 
There is happiness with family around. 
She knew, for the first time in some years, joy!  
Reflected gleams sparkled on her tomorrow.  

Too fast, the moments passed; holiday lights faded
There was no more waiting; loved ones came around.
Love redeemed joy, each today and tomorrow.



©  November 19, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen 


Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sestina |

ROXY, THE ROTTWEILER

Roxy as the loudest rottweiler in Waterbury, an historic town in Connecticut,
Roxy was a vigilante dog, which never let a stranger or a burglar in;
once this ranch home was a haven, thanks for the love she had shown!
While I was watching my favorite movie, she joined in with interest; 
I padded her to let her know that I approved of her curiosity,
and I spoiled her with foods that dogs shouldn't eat: like cookies and pastry! 



On the sunniest days of spring and summert, we spent many hours playing, I threw the ball
and she would find it anywhere on the lawn and bring it back breathing heavily;
whoever says that dogs can't be human?....They have already proven that to us
by being our best friends! A dog can rescue a child from a burning house,
and jump into the coldest pool and bring that baby unharmed to safety;
and many of them take risks that we wouldn't take, to protect us in dangerous situations!



Canines have been our bodyguards since ancient times...Homer, the blind poet, had one, too,
but what they don't have is a spirit like ours, that spirit which returns, upon death, to God;
and will they ever go to Heaven with us? Our answer should be no, but the odds of taking  
them with us, wouldn't be favorable, so we must leave them behind in their earthly dwelling! 
When we'll be resurrected by Christ, we'll remember these loyal and dear companions
that shared our affections, our joy of loving, and our same fate: living and dying like we do!
     



Roxy was the gentlest and the most affectionate dog that ever lived, Roxy kept me from harm;
and what she gave was more than anyone could ever give! And my appreciation and gladness
were demonstrated in my caring ways: making sure she was well-fed and had plenty 
of water to drink, when I would be gone for hours...and on my return, she would greet me 
with a loud bark, and licking my cheeks, she jumped on me and tickled me with her paws!  
Roxy was a gift from a neighbor who died alone; she entrusted her to me, and called me son!


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

Details | Sestina |

SAILS GLIDING ON THE SHIMMERING SEA

Sails gliding on the shimmering sea,
don't be hasty to engulf silence 
as the chapel's choir engages in a spiritual oratorio praising Him;
an octave higher or lower brings
their inspirational hymn to a desired sound of felicity...
those tones that the loud organ makes!



We, as they, are lifted by the sustenance of faith,
too pure and orthodox to extinguish our oneness of spirit;
adhering to rigid standards and beliefs...forbidding sin
to feed on its vain opprobrium and oppress purity!
We, as they, dwell in this oracle to outshine indefinitely,
and outreach every unreachable and unconquerable limit!



Sails gliding on the shimmering sea,
watch the advancing sunrays osculate the waves of the harbor,
and the optical images that reality conveys!
See the ospreys which learn their skill by osmosis...
that even the ovenbirds can't acquire;
hear the believers's proclamation presaging and predicating unity!



Irreverent  and doubtful soul, don't pursue vanity:
don't be similar to a prancing horse that surprises the rider;
don't prattle when foolishness becomes a hangover!
You have put too much effort into exhibiting your valor...
hardly serving a purpose and be totally useful;
be like the sails gliding on the shimmering sea!


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

Details | Sestina |

CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION IN MY CITY

Many Christmas Trees are seen
around the Yule season in my city;
they all are very tall and beautiful,
but the Rockefeller Plaza's Norway spruce
is the most gigantic and spectacular
with its multicolored, gleaming bulbs.   


Come to the city, where kids turn into angels:
they seem real cherubs being sent by Heaven itself,
and these angelic messengers love to play 
their carols to announce Jesus joyful birth;
come closer, look up and hear those voices greatly
rejoicing in this bright corner of the earth! 


Sit down in front of it and dream
of the gifts stacked underneath your pretty Christmas tree,
but the most precious is this one, only decorated with lights;
and its green color and sheer simplicity,
can begin making a glorious memory!
And which carol will you sing for the crowds?


Christmastime is a wonderful experience on New York City's streets: 
stores, pubs, restaurants and shops dress up with dazzling decorations,
every street has a Santa ringing a bell and spreading good cheers;
where else can you find kind folks wishing strangers a Merry Christmas? 
On Christmas Eve, Saint Patrick's Cathedral echoes with hymns...
and Child Jesus smiles at children as they caress His soft face.  


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

Details | Sestina |

Angellic Joy!

Sweet were those childhood times
No worries no fear, just a carefree life
Mother’s lap seemed the treasure of world
Rejoicing each day with heartfelt joy
Happiness needed no reason, it was inside
Talking the heart away while spreading smile

No material possessions to bring joy
Family and friends formed best of life
No pretension, simply being self all times
Harmless heart giving even stranger a smile
All in the face, keeping no ill feelings inside
Lovely phase better than riches of the world

Sing hosanna aloud without rhythms inside
Every time on the cloud nine with a wider smile
Childhood answers the true meaning of joy
Confidence sparkles whatever be the times
No complaints or curse how dark gets world
Live and let give adds more rejoice to life

No rat race spoiling the true essence of life
Innocence of child nurtures divine times
Wishes in hearts once to crawl back in life
As to embrace the color of seamless joy
Open a child’s eye to see the lost world 
Find happiness not in things but soul inside

What a life was it the pretty childhood times!
No scare or fear of losing the track of life
Sky is enough to live not the riches of world
Optimistic heart to unfold the worries inside
Reasons not searched for to simply smile
Rapture beauty escalates the treasured joy

No retake given in this wonderful whirling world
Grow up but leave not the child breathing inside
All emotions form an integral part of life
Haste not while wearing costume of lively smile
Celebrate the season of childhood with joy
Once in life humanity blessed with those times

Treasure life like jewels with a brightening smile
Learn from world but not let go the child inside
Joy is here and now…bound it not in time

Copyright © Sneha Agarwal | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sestina |

Moonlight Adventure

The beautiful day begins in the house.
At the end of it, all that’s left of it is the moon,
Shimmering in all the night’s light.
A door to another world opens.
The only movement is a page turning in a book. 
Suddenly, without notice, an inconceivable object drops.
	
The thing jumps and twirls and once again drops.
A person from another time, the future, enters the large house.
The man, pacing back and forward, finally sends away the hovering book.
He magically transports it to the glistening moon.
Something like a black hole, a portal inexplicably opens.
The book vanishes in a fading yellow light.

The visitor sees something bright, a room full of light.
And inside, a piece of paper from the hands of a child drops.
The door of the room slightly, quietly opens.
A child and her grandmother are drawing and inscrutable house.
In a circle and a beam of inconceivable beauty appears the moon.
On the page, like the hovering object, once again, is the sight of a book.

The child explains that she has, many times that year, read the book.
But her grandmother slowly shows the girl the true “light”.
Now, the girl understands that she was wrong, and now appears the moon!
It comes closer and closer, and then, like a shooting star, down it drops.
The planet has gone down from the sky to have a conversation in the house.
The moon elegantly flies in, as large as an elephant, and its mouth opens.

And now all of the people come close together and a road opens.
The grandmother and child are guided by a rather large book.
In time, the home disappears; they have left the house.
The book vanishes, and all that leads them is a guiding light.
The key to a room, calmly, as if carried by the wind, drops.
“Come in and let’s have a talk,” says not a person, but a face in white, the moon.

The grandmother is surprised, for she is seeing the real, live moon.
A beautiful and long conversation through all the night opens.
Then as dawn arrives, blood-red, the tone of their voices drops.
Grandmother and child come out of the wonderful book.
Outside it is day, a new beginning, another lively light.
They walk o’er their field and talk till’ they reach the house.

In the morning, the otherworldly man leaves the house.
Also, he disappears in a now magnificent golden light.
That is the end; there are no more pages in this book.

Copyright © Alan Grinberg | Year Posted 2005

Details | Sestina |

THE DORMANT FOREST AWAITS SPRING

All the strawberry's and moss rose's bushes
are slowing budding along the dusty bridle paths,
and as the husky New York cowboys pull down their hats,
they don't seem to excite their trotting horses;
and I am slower than they are...dragging my aching feet
to barren fields, where yesterday's lovers loved to dream!


And as the dormant forest awaits spring,
below the rain-soaked hill, some trees dingle from it's corroded cliffs
that are thickly covered with maroon leaves;
but the innocuous squirrels, unaware, scare away the wandering robin
that is too lonely and looks for sign of existence,
and my observation is a note worthy one by the rhythm of his wings!


My memorable childhood was spent observing the diverse seasons,
and the spectacular colors that bewildered me...enhancing their significance,
and whoever saw that child with a rosy face and short, curly hair:
must have thought to have seen a cherub with the softest wings,
who never tired of discovering new flowers and trees;
jotting down every detail in his handy notebook, to create words with flair! 


Rest under the pale sky, tired man and write your drama;
your strength has diminished as sunsets ultimately do;
you have seen the dawn with its intense light and a bright star, too:
that star which always illuminated your path and spirit!
Now, don't cease to exist and vanish like a dark star...
peacefully sleep, as the dormant forest awaits spring!


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

Details | Sestina |

Split Temptation

My temptation is great at times in my life.
At other times, it is lost and no to be found.
I know it will always be there within my mind.
It will confuse me and drive me so very mad.
No longer sad, because I have accepted it so,
As a part of my soul and inner self so bold,

Becoming part of me, I am outwardly bold.
I have accepted so richly, building on my life.
No one I know would ever consider it so.
There are so many others that I have found.
Some accept it; others would think I’m mad.
I hold it dear to me, hiding it inside my mind.

I am glad that no one could ever read my mind.
Though to act upon this temptation is bold,
To observe this thing would make someone mad.
So I hide it well inside and continue in life.
Some day my time will come, peace will be found.
No matter when, I understand that it will become so,

Maybe upon my destiny deal it shall become so.
It will never drive me insane and take away my mind.
Reality will take over someday releasing vision found.
Energy shall be released, no sacrifice to be bold.
There will be a new existence known inside of life.
My spirit will be complete and happy, not mad.

This success shall be gracious, not making anyone mad.
I hope that my happiness fulfilled with making it so.
However, possibly not since I will not know of this life.
For all memories of former life will be out of my mind.
To be able to recall my past, could I chance to be so bold?
Possibly souls are warped together and can be found.

Per chance, I could read these words, knowing what I found.
Though it is a possibility, that then I could go insanely mad.
Whatever happens in my soul again, could I be so bold.
I can only hope and pray that someday it will become so.
That the temptation of mine shall share only one mind,
That the combination of two, share just one life,

That truth is found with loving it so.
No longer, mad, in a calmer mind.
Creating someone bold, and compelling life.

Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sestina |

INSPIRATION SPARKS WHEN

Inspiration sparks when
a shooting star crosses
the starry, twinkling Heavens,
revealing its gradeur, beauty and sadness;
and if we follow it to its destination...
where it will finally land.


Inspiration sparks when it is stirred up by a sudden impulse,
and to miss it...is to lose another literary gem to outlast the ages,
that's why I constantly glance and run after one faster than a horse...
when it is about to take off with impetuous speed;
just chasing that luminous trail vanishing in distance...
fills one's heart with an incomparable feeling indeed.


Inspiration sparks when
we allow thoughts of serenity
enter the occupied mind burdened by a plan,
not letting it aimlessly wander somewhere else;
and its search might be long or terse,
to rise above those ideas too ordinary.


Inspiration sparks when
the least we expect it, to bewilder us;
transforming our silence into a powerful voice,
louder than the roar of an airplane,
of the thundering sound of a volcano in eruption...
making many tremble without waging war. 
   

Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sestina |

In His Grace


I'm absolutely certain that it's only by God's grace 
That I could climb if I have to...that very high.. wall 
God give us life all thru His loving care and fresh air 
My God is really awesome, and He's loving and so very kind 
And my heart with pride with all His love just swells 
Because knowing and accepting His salvation makes me so happy. 

In God's loving care I am always happy 
Because I can depend always on His grace 
God protects us and shields us from ocean's swells 
And with Him we can ascend and descend any wall 
He's in control of everything and the very same air 
And my God is so loving forgiving and kind. 

Like God's love there's no other because God is perfect and kind 
And when I obey His Word and follow Him I feel very happy 
God renews my heart and my lungs each day with clean air 
He does it all for you and me because of His love and grace 
With God by our side we can never lose but win and climb that wall 
And living for God is better and my heart with all His love just swells. 

With God's tender love and care I can forever live and my heart swells 
Because I know without a doubt that His sweet love is one of its kind 
And with God by my side I can climb or descend any high wall 
Because God cares for you and me and that makes me really happy 
Just knowing I can enjoy forever His most wonderful grace 
I praise Him everyday for all the things I see,the sky, the sea... the air. 

I see God's love manifested all over the earth the sea... the air 
And all the creatures' hearts with God's shining love just swells 
And the stars and the moon sing praises for His Mighty Creation and grace 
Because of God's Love there's still Love Hopes and Dreams of every kind 
Thinking of His love makes my heart day and night happy 
Because God is my rock and to protect me He can build a wall. 


And with God by my side I can climb and descend any high wall 
He gives life to each of us everyday with tons of clean air 
And when I choose to obey His Ten Commandments that makes me happy 
Because with joy and serene peace my heart for God full of love swells 
Knowing that God is so real, true forgiving and kind 
And that I can always trust Him and enjoy forever His Blessed Grace! 


With God's Grace I can descend and climb any tall wall 
God fills my lungs with fresh air because He's so loving and kind 
And my heart swells with all His love which makes me always so happy. 


Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2008

Details | Sestina |

MY SHARE OF GLADNESS

If I were the Eternal God,
nothing would be impossible to me,
but a human being, like me,
can't give more that he can afford;
and what kind of strength
sustains me, when I'm deprived of worth?


The compassion,concern and sympathy 
flow from me like a sparkling spring
in the remote and peaceful wilderness,
to be soothed by a sweet reward
and claim my share of gladness;
tap on this caring heart and see my generosity... 
 

I have lived for others, and without regret,
I still refuse to be crowned with honor:
that's the least foolish thought
to manipulate an unbearable pride,
which I will surely put aside;
that's not the glorious moment I'm after...     


If I weren't too sensitive, all the ugliness,
madness, deception and lies
would have no impact on me:
my adversaries have to completely know me,
to sift the unrevealed truth from my thoughts;
and my truth is not something that dies...


My share of gladness
is that diamond which kept its luster
after it was unfairly hidden into the dreaded darkness,
but perpetually kept from dust:  to shine beyond compare;
and envious eyes can angrily stare,
to discern their harmful awareness...  


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009