Morning entered quietly, as pale as silver rain, and with it came a gentle voice to soften fear and pain.
The hours were slow with aching, the road seemed hard to see, yet kindness, like a summer bird, alighted close to me.
No crown adorned her patient brow, No trumpet marked her way; She carried hope in simple hands— Shyni, my nurse today.
Sometimes the smallest mercies outshine the brightest sun:
A smile, a word, a careful touch can heal what others can't.
When evening folds the weary sky and shadows drift away, I'll keep one quiet star alive— Shyni my nurse today.
On a withered branch
a crow has alighted—
nightfall in autumn.
O daring snail
climb Mount Everest
but slowly, slowly
A blank canvas
for thoughts to grow
a world within
Green moss on the stone,
a silent, soft, quiet growth,
sunlight finds a crack
The sun pours herself
in the sea, and half the world
overflow with light
Beauty rises high
not to be seen, but hope that
no other is seen
I hate hypocrites
know-it-alls, and worst of all
people who complain
A martyr flew through holy throne
Alighted to bowl of prophet water
Sipped and quaffed the holy juice
Almighty Lord picked him from many others
Gates were opened one by one
Greeted him angels all of them
He didn't hesitate on the path
This is how Allah lovers' end
Overshadows beneath the Most Merciful's Throne
Walks with his houris through rivers of heaven
That houri if one descends to earth
Eyes will be blind by her light
If her ankle a little bit shown
Will pass away all daemon and mankind
Every houri every time virgin
Deserved by this world's orphan and bizarre
Left with thirst and hunger to streets
Valueless & oppressed at everybody's eyes
Lavender
On a milestone in a small town, I sat trying to write
a poem, and a man sat on a wooden bench watching
me; he had a newspaper on his lap. A cat under a car
was watching him; perhaps he gave it something to eat
from time to time. With a sigh, I put my notebook back
into the side pocket of my jacket. No poem today.
The man began reading his newspaper, and the cat looked
away and began grooming itself. A bus stopped two
elderly ladies alighted, bags full of shopping, and all was
back to normal, but I remember the air of summer dust
diesel fumes and the aroma of lavender.
Fleetings are too faint,
too few, and so far between.
Fleeting is a butterfly
alighted with folded wings.
The glimpse of love
a flimsy kiss on cheek brings.
Dewdrops left on leaves
by early morning mist.
Echoes faint and feeble
that callers often missed.
The glint of sunbeams
quivering on a rippled lake.
The sunrise briefly peaking
through clouds at day-break.
The flit of candle flames
brushed by secret hushed remarks,
whispered quietly,
to quell the spell of tell-tale larks.
Fleetings are footnotes,
too often skipped,
when skip-reading, from your scripts!
When you flew in with the fellows of the flowers-
I knew the apples and where the strawberries rang...
Every doorbell in the garden boasted the entire jungle-
And when the stalk minded every river...
You were the power to the chime!
Though we did wonder, tall as the stars-
The stuff of bells where peppers called...
Yet lonely rise the potato patch
How simply things could be-
Poppies, lillies, and the squash...
And fronds on the mic to revel in a riot-
So raving past the roots, the swing...
As sure as fire bird she dawned-
The plus as all come raise the drums...
The muddy glow as seen as law-
The rarest hat since roses bloomed...
As righteous winds of storm the tune-
A virtous wood and plains afar...
The bird of paradise claimed the floor...
And all did shake so sang some more-
The daisies danced, the pumpkins laughed...
And every zuchini with every stack-
The house was loaded with Peppermint zeal...
The whole herbal creation alighted the steal...
The best was meant to come!
I embarked on a train,
I was happy I was out of the rain,
But I was ambivalent about where I was going,
I was seated with the crowd,
Safe with the numbers.
We journeyed through time’s trail,
Different stops for different folks,
Different stops for different pursuits,
Some knew their purpose,
Some just alighted with someone else.
I was going to alight a few stops away,
I alighted with the person who sat in front of me,
We bided farewell,
A door opened for her,
No door opened for me,
Neither was anyone shut behind me.
I remembered what the sage said,
Sometimes people see you in the light of who you are
while you’re consumed with another dream,
I remembered who I was told I was that I refuted,
I waited for the next train,
I embarked to retrace my steps,
To bond with my muse.
April 20, 2024.
Winter whirling anxiety upon silent, shadows light sleeping from dawn to dusk.
Sky smudged in a raven haze,
mist lining paths with a silver shade.
The emerald sea freezes like a pastel ice ring reflecting intimate lies.
Feathered snowflakes tumble into glistening grief,
palls waving goodbye to soothing sentimental zeal.
Rays of serenity sailing into slate sooty showering puddles,
As the chilly wind swirls smiles into frosted hazardous glares.
Birds singing of hope in the bitter crispy darkness;
chirping melodies till the sunrise awakens from its slumber.
Melodies reflect on the familiarity of childhood dreams,
Endeavouring to glow their light upon sorrowful eyes,
striving to colour an ebony horizon with copper clouds.
Children assembling polar alien figures,
snowmen sink strife with whispers of secret sunrise.
Superficial ensembles stir up veiled laughter,
Horror of trauma rest’s it’s weary tears as hands throw ice in delight.
Windows alighted with reviving candlelight flames of jubilant joy.
Wonder as the sentiment of a conjuring
Subtlety akin to morning
Glories, fall as snow remarked
In solemn note, a veil to reckon
Alighted through the spirit so chilling
The familiar light as a darkened compact
But as christening the bounty of hall
Would wait appealing to the homily
As done the dancing of the mood
CHARACTERISTICS
possessed
stereotypes
evolved
illustrated
diminished
&overshadowed
by
the flamboyant
intense
depictions
independent
blessed
with
contemporary
zeal
a remembered
likeness
visaged
subtly sensuous
flushed
&sentimental
yet
contained
& captivating
a picture
of response
to inventions
alighted upon
stark
& contemplative
adorned
only with
a
solitary
mood
small
&
suave
an aura
of
stillness
reminiscent
in manner
&suffused
in the
constructive
In the vast expanse of a mountainous highland,
A pretty damsel joyfully waltzed around,
A carefree lass, in the laps of bountiful nature,
Until A Prince trotted by, and magically found.
The Prince wandered for hundreds and hundreds of miles,
searching for the maiden he saw in his dream,
Stunned and astounded was he - was she truly real,
The ethereal girl he searched for, was in front of him!
From his favourite royal horse, promptly he alighted,
didn’t hesitate a moment to reach his decision !
This was his enchanting beauty - body and soul,
How could he miss the angelic fragrance, and the vision.
Besotted with her charm, the Prince came closer,
Kneeled in front of her, she speechless with emotions,
“There is the Rose inside my heart” he declared- “red
and trembling,” “I found you to offer my devotion”!
March 24, 2023
Inspired by "Rose Inside My Heart" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Checked by HMS.com and Rhymezone.com
Winter spirit immediately uplifted
When eyes alighted on yellow delight
From gloom to joy my mood just shifted
Daffodil heaven wonderful, beautiful sight.
Along hedgerows in golden clusters
Thick swathes abound before my eye
golden aura nature has mustered
spellbinding magic that will flutter and die
Take comfort from indisputable fact
Spring is a time of glorious rebirth
Return it will with magic unwrapped
When daffodils spring from Mother Earth.
Pixabay Image by: Mathiasboeckel
Cardinal, a bird of all seasons was seen flying
in a cloak of feathers in flaming red
and a small crest upon his head.
He looked an enchanting sight,
in the blue panorama of the sky
amid curling clouds and blurring mist.
As he soared, he was piping joyful melodies
Suddenly he swooped down, into my little garden,
where exotic flowers ooze out a rare fragrance,
where I stood unseen inebriated, under the tiara of blossoms.
The cardinal without second thoughts
alighted on a tall growing rose bush
where a red rose stood smiling, awashed in morning dew.
Between them, there was a hushed whisper
Is it the red color common in both
that conjoined them in love all at once?
With wind’s exciting whips and sunbeams’ sudden slips,
I saw him kissing hard upon her dewy lips.
In embarrassment, other flowers
turned their demure faces away!
Jan.8.2023
The Cardinal and the Rose Poetry Contest
Sponsor- craig cornish
Unsure of the wisdom of getting married that day,
the young woman stood in the garden
of her groom-to-be.
Rarely entirely confident of any big decisions,
she trembled underneath
her beautiful white sequinned wedding gown.
She pondered and pondered,
but anything bad that entered her mind
had barely any weight
compared with all the good of the man she loved!
Suddenly her gaze fell upon the rose bush.
Although it was early November,
one passionately red rose still bloomed there,
tall and poised – ready for romance!
As if by fate, a brilliantly red cardinal
alighted nearby the rose and cocked his tiny head at her
as if mocking her for her foolhardiness.
She recalled that seeing a cardinal meant good fortune,
Smiling then, she turned enthusiastically,
headed for wedded bliss.
Jan. 6, 2023
For Brian Strand's the 'SECOND CHANCE ' Poetry Contest
When inspiration obstinately runs low,
And ink stains drench an old copy.
Yet verses silently deny to flow,
While thoughts are damn sloppy.
And ink stains drench an old copy;
As she aspires to get rid of her blues.
While thoughts are damn sloppy,
Seeking desperately for a muse.
As she aspires to get rid of her blues,
Her eyes slowly alighted on ethereal aesthetic grace.
Seeking desperately for a muse;
Rhapsodies of praises she wishes to embrace.
Her eyes slowly alighted on ethereal aesthetic grace;
Motivation imprints the poetess to properly play her role.
Rhapsodies of praises she wishes to embrace,
But situations are skillful to sway a poetic soul!
Motivation imprints the poetess to properly play her role,
Yet verses silently deny to flow!
But situations are skillful to sway a poetic soul,
When inspiration obstinately runs low.
©light_flame
Name of the Contest: PANTOUM ON WRITING POETRY
Name of the Sponser: L MILTON HANKINS
Date of the Poem: 2nd December 2022
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.