Rime Couee 1, 2, and 3
I.
Floating across a cool, bright beam
Drifting inside a peaceful dream
Sacred geometry
Builds the structures that bring great peace
Making the restless chaos cease
Engaging symmetry
II.
Envision Rowans in colors
Wing-ed bright spirits, light bearers
Green boughs of Oak shield you!
Gliding through enchanted grove space
Blessed by Moonlight's silver grace
Wheel of Seasons anew
III.
Floating in the oaken moon beam
Whispering ancient faery dreams
Dreamy knots-work sculptures
Star groves, my sparkly bright office!
Where this dreamer goes to practice
Intuitive culture
IV.
With psychic, angelic infrastructure!
Spiraling aloft!
Left my heart twirling;
whorling in the whirlpool.
Sweethearts a-hanging,
thumbs a-banging sugarplums.
My hair rapunzeling, enraptured,
captured by fairytale-pirating.
My heart as red as an apple,
shining from wax, waxing upon
the sugar-moon, crystalline
catastrophe of high-cheek crimson.
Heart, pleasingly plump, round
in the palm of the beholder.
Bereaving the helplessly bound
breath and palpitations; no rest.
The song of the ages; sages
are mad with platinum platitudes.
Drifting, my soul cascading;
spelunking into recesses
of caverns, cold, distant;
teeny feet fettered, forlorn.
Ferocious waters, funny waters
hold onto the beating with vines.
How divine to let go; let the rapids
take me real slow, circulating
through arteries and veins;
throbbing with sobbing, regress.
Peachy, unpretentious, potent,
progressing to the end of the ride;
calm waters preaching, teal grass
with its daisy chains reaching,
holding me fast in gracious arms,
drying moon-eyes, sagacious.
My heart never needs to lie;
Sincerity is paradisaically prosaic.
Adrift
Loving life along this disjointed time,
things adrift, no shore in sight.
Left so angry, right so right,
so what’s the future we invite?
Borders broken, countries thinned,
against His will, and almost sin.
Division sold as new inclusion,
the modern day illusion.
Group against group,
the idealist soup,
roar control,
no good for any soul.
Philosophy rolls on and on,
ideologies at ping pong,
roaming the earth like an unwritten song.
Where and what is the end game?
We’ll all go insane before we learn its name.
Adrift across the world,
I dreamt of black waters.
Flat sea from long ago.
Journey inside my mind,
choppers pick up that flow.
Adrift across the world,
opaque lisp on high tide.
Can’t quite get it all out,
I’m bitterly hindered.
A princess with a pout.
Adrift across the world,
calling from my belfry.
An ache inside my throat
is so raw with shouting.
It’s best not to emote.
Adrift across the world,
strange stories come alive.
Murky surf pulls me in,
every forgotten land
chooses my voice again.
Captured within this water level rising,
it’s a feeling of being pulled or called.
That rushing sound of the rolling tide
pulses permeating right through me.
It’s a feeling of being pulled or called,
something completely unexplainable.
Pulses permeating right through me
electrifying my mind, body, and pen.
Something completely unexplainable
I’m left freed to safely fall and look up.
Electrifying my mind, body, and pen
a shock is received again and again.
I’m left freed to safely fall and look up,
adrift on this swaying roller coaster.
A shock is received again and again
raising a new language on my skin.
Adrift on this swaying roller coaster,
that rushing sound of the rolling tide.
Raising a new language on my skin,
captured within this water level rising.
?Something's burning in my chest
?Like a river of fiery larva
?It's the ocean of savaging doubts
?A faltering in which my thoughts dwell
?
?My bed is a deck of remembrance
?My heart, a wave of many memories
?Lost in the storms of what could've been
?Left with the choice of what's to come
?
?A fragile heart, a heavy soul
?Weighed down by the weight of vice
?The fire burns, the flames rise high
?A reflection of blood shed by my soul
?
?The ghosts of good old past
?Haunt me, with forever to stay
?I seek a glimmer, a thin bit of hope
?Even a strength of many coalitions
?
?I'm searching for a lifeline
?A beacon in the dark
?A guide against my raging err
?A command of peace to my troubled waters
Tonight, a yellow moon,
drifts aimless, on black-blue sea,
quivering on the rippling wakes,
brushed by a shaky, softly sighing breeze.
Gathering shoals of shadows gather in the shallows
where they're snared by nets of yearning,
cast to catch ghosts of echoes, forgotten,
lost in the argent churn of tide and time,
put away lest they spoil the ache
of wanton spirits, wandering adrift.
at the whim of wind,
at the tug and drag of tide,
as welcome pixie-dusted dreamers
set adrift, wanting to be lost.
A heart without love
on an ocean with no shore,
forever adrift.
Is it strange
That I saw a bit of flapping curtain
And thought of you?
These rainy days do go on,
And the soft pitter-patter outside
Reminds me of your warmth.
Oh to be enveloped by you again.
The chilly breeze is ever so cold,
But my heart's not out there.
It's with you.
You keep me warm.
And safe.
You're a broken mirror
That sits in the trash can I live,
Reflecting the sky
And giving me hope.
I miss you.
So much.
I hope to see you soon.
ADRIFT AT SEA*
sea-worn bottle,
bobs on a digital tide.
inside, not paper brittle with salt,
but luminous lines of light,
coded in metaphors and rhyme.
message tossed
into the sea.
unknown sender,
no harbor designated, no destination
on any map.
it drifts, a lonely vessel,
across oceans of indifference,
until…
a seacoast appears,
unsummoned,
unexpected.
my eyes, the sand.
my mind, the beach.
I pick it up,
this delicate thing,
uncorking the silence.
The words flow out,
a story whispered,
a feeling shared,
across lifetimes,
across the vacuity.
suddenly,
I am the address.
the recipient unknown,
FOUND.
the message delivered.
the poem,
HOME.
*Note: I posted this poem at Poetry Soup in June 2025 then deleted it (www.poetrysoup.com › poem › adrift_at_sea_1740391). This is my original poem and has not been plagiarized. Also, this poem was recently published in Highland Park Poetry’s Anthology titled MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE. I am blessed.
aborted ambitions
time squandered
dreams abandoned
a life mismanaged
a ship with
no one at the helm
subject to the currents
and the whim of winds
idle and adrift
we've run out of options
out of time and
out of excuses
AP: 2nd place 2026, Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on June 2, 2025 for contest YOUR CHOICE T sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - Honorable Mention
Fly with me to the nearest rainbow,
in your arms I'll place a star.
All I want is to be with you
wherever you are.
We can walk between the moonbeams
or simply glide along in space;
hand in hand, drifting aimlessly
never caring about the pace.
Time is what we'll share and
though we care about the time,
as long as we are together,
I am yours and you are mine.
The sun will provide us warmth,
the clouds shelter us in shade;
this will be our private world
no other will invade.
Sleep in peace beside me,
always awaken next to me;
in these arms I'll forever hold you
till the winds blow the waves from the sea.
When all the interactions of the day left me exhausted, and lost,
When I would start to drift,
To let the currents of solitude swallow my little boat-
You would come for me, you would take the helm.
You would point me towards home again.
Now that you are gone, I stay adrift.
Unmoored, there is no darker sea than this.
No lonelier waters, nor more barren shores.
I come to where the ocean is born
I dip my toes into the glassy blackness,
I let my dress slip from my shoulders
And I dive into these dark, dark waters.
Near ocean surf, buds bloom.
Duet-sashay in silky dress.
Side to side sway of locks.
Teeny feet in tall grass.
Brunette and strawberry blonde.
Pinwheel-limbs like pale ballerinas.
Midnight-bare without glass,
Fairy-soles in overgrown freesia.
Sisters in momentum of glee.
Brushed eyes, opened and closed.
Dreamers adrift on waft canvas.
Ebb-flow of pink stars, superimposed.
I entered the world of sleep,
Where creations danced on waves.
Cliffs loomed vast and deep,
Their mystery stirred the brave.
The rhythmic ocean’s motion,
And the world’s life-laden view,
Revealed secrets of the ocean,
Surprisingly witnessed by few.
I watched a sailor take his ride,
Steering the boat with flair—then he fell.
Though currents surged with the spring tide,
I held tight to my precious shell.
Then crackling sounds broke the dream,
Nature’s embrace slipped away, so nice.
For a moment, bound by a wild, green theme,
Till reality struck—my bowl of rice.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.