Written: May 15, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
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I’m neither harmonious nor a hidden hymn
Who said I'm wedded to whimsy, lilac looks?
to all those who gifted me
countless worries through the years.
Simply silhouettes in my rear—view mirror.
I sail past rhyming reefs,
of my quest faintly reflecting
Why should I let them define me anymore?
I make mistakes; so what?
my heart is full of love and ambrosian words—
it shines with rhapsody.
my hands can heal amidst the severest pain.
my mind envision cures
for sparkling vanilla—algae tears.
Tidal teals whisper tales that truly transform.
Despite doubts in glittering, grape-colored gales,
I'll face them as the north star kisses the sea.
I will rise and face them head on,
while history hisses at my heels.
I'll sustain my anxieties for what they are — illusions
with a clairvoyant cape and rivulets unraveled
what matters is now
what matters is my striving
what matters is the rise
toward rebellious rainbows
and what I require,
as a necklace of seashells
worn and stained with sepia
To be just like him, smiling as he fell,
we set out to make void-centric soul’s stance,
assured that with God within, all is well,
so melding head with heart, we took a chance,
to turn toward love, our platonic glance.
With mind unfrozen, once heart was open,
magnetism manifested as chosen,
suffused with bliss heat, our vibrance upbeat,
we savoured soma nectar ambrosian,
our soul’s presence surrendered at God’s feet.
Written: June 5th, 2024, For Jay Narain Contest
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Your smile awestruck me every morning,
Truly ambrosian and quiddity display style.
Your ariose image is rife in my dreams,
As optimism rises, I wake up with beams.
You could be the one, I didn't love enough,
There was a juncture in, I treated you rough.
Girl, if I beshrew you feel odious, I was blind,
If I crestfallen you, you're often on my mind.
You induce me to dare my worries and fears,
I will support you in your anguish and tears.
All I sense for you is beyond what I may show,
You are precious to me; I wish that you know.
I didn't descry you those lonesome times,
It is a delight to have you; you are sublime.
My thoughts of you hampered my tries to rest,
The warmth of your kindness swells my chest.
Whatever transpires, I will be devout to you,
My briny goal is always you, and I will pursue.
Allow me to win your quintessence one final time,
I often relate to you; I've never had time to dime.
Written: May 15, 2024 For Jay Narain Contest
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Summer's sunshine tingles the lavender bloom.
It bestows an idyllic and aureate mood in the room.
A serene spa as fears vanish and peace beams.
A sumptuous sanctum and mellifluous dream.
Royal purple, orchid, with the silky grace of a lilac.
A rush of passion and altruism, and a smile to luck.
A panacea for a jaded soul, a cornucopia of peace.
A pleasing pastiche in which hurdles seek release.
Stench of lavender recalls an elixir, syrupy but real.
A dulcet wassail is charming luxurious, and ideal.
Amphorae filled with flower oil, ambrosian ariose.
An oasis of quietness bliss and no mood morose.
From soil to sun, sand to scent, appeal is copious.
A healing hum, gentle grasp, evoke in you Proteus
Lavender aroma bestows a lovely easing balm.
A whisper of coolness, a spirit devoid of harm.
Written: May 03, 2024
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Isolated each aspect—bereft of any link,
An ambrosian aura encircles an empty clink.
Lenses produce rippling prisms out of embrace,
They glide through a quivering mind—arcane case.
Someone has trapped an aura in an optical hall,
Awareness is molded by external gaze—it recalls.
Whispers of sunshine and shade intertwined,
Cast shadows and advise on edges—undermined.
Memories faded into a sepia hue—silence now,
The howling gusts serve as audible avows.
This ancient wind originates from the past,
Weighed down by sorrow—of dwindling cast.
Smiles in darkness—as tongues held quiet,
Time is ethereal, and memories are defiant.
A sepia-hued whisper-echo beckons me,
An aureate beleaguer core is to foresee.
Written: April 29, 2024 For Regina Regina Mcintosh Contest
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Meeting her will drown me with her love,
It will express pride and bliss from above.
Her glance involved an ambivalent dream,
Her smile is ambrosian whenever we team.
I will cry with her and soothe her fears,
Lend her comfort and wipe away her tears.
Her love shakes my soul with an auric beat,
Love blooms amid a full moon in aquiver heat.
When I fall in love, I will bestow my all,
It arises during alertness, sleep, or crawl.
As an ariose bloom, I am free in her grasp,
Time slips in her hold, as love vows a clasp.
When I fall in love—I cherish every turn,
Under the pretense of perpetual concern.
With a look and a grin, you had me awed,
Heart fire, in love—descry mist, not flawed
As I fell in love—I will miss her as she left,
In every departure, my heart grows a cleft.
Two souls lost in heavenly love now merge,
Love anew, with each dawn submerge.
Written: April 25, 2024, For Sara Kendrick Mirror Contest
Rumi Quote 4: " The pure heart is a spotless mirror in which images of
infinite beauty are reflected"
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Inhale an ambrosian scent of soul embrace,
A spotless mirror, a balmily sacred space.
Where grace and limitless vistas reside,
A mirror of marvels dwells inside.
Mirrors of the soul portray what lies within,
Embers of deceit and virtue—a place to hide.
Within glitzy mirrors lurks crestfallen mystery,
Derisory echoes and whispers from history.
They wear us down, akin to sighs in the wind,
To discern diaphanous time with the air behind.
Gazing into a mirror, we quietly weigh a vow,
Reflecting images across time in a wide bow.
An empyreal elegy was mirrored in our myth,
Weary sighs faded in threnodic dream pith.
Tedium gradually accumulates over time,
Memories of the past are bathed—sublime.
Every thud echoes love and reminisce,
With each inhale, it exhales pure bliss.
A clean soul's heart is an heirloom of wellness,
Earnest quintessence of morality and fairness.
Written: December 19, 2023
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In silken sheen of grace
with gleaming, auric strings
wedged ambrosian wonder;
once shown in ancient space
tough, spark us to ponder.
In silken sheen of grace
and I stroked the mauve scent,
and snow fell on the frame
with all plush of my heart
I sense it least would claim.
In silken sheen of grace,
I searched for unique yarns
what a charmed loom may pose
that caught the season's bloom;
they held their blossoms close.
In silken sheen of grace
the hazy breath of gold
the zooming, meager flame,
Its charm shielding my heart,
counting each one by name.
Sunlight morphs into the elixir moonlight
dusk wearing a sequined black silken shawl.
And the daylight truckled the way to twilight,
for embracing the shadows, captivating all.
Nightingale heralding serenades to usher night.
A soothing symphony of cynosure sway,
Empyreal cerulean sun, fanned by the moon.
Finding riddles while gently a lissome display,
haphazardly scattered amid a sea swoon.
Shadows glide in a lithe and untamed way.
Thrusting past the unbreakable shield,
they celebrate an undiscovered world.
Silences emerge, mystery in the field,
untold secrets are saved with a sword.
In exquisite ariose, they swing and wield.
The whole earth is suffused in a golden hue,
depicted in ambrosian strokes drawing the sky.
As the sun costumes, relentlessly renew,
palimpsest marvel raveled in the yarn of day.
Inviting us to explore the mellifluous view.
Written: June 16, 2023
Bite Size No 66 Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
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The moon's hidden serenade is Elysian divine,
The world glows in its ambrosian silver shine
It whispers arcane known solely to the night
A charming melody, an utter amorist delight,
Harmony and heirloom are ariose and enhance,
A kaleidoscope of pink and gray buds advance.
Written: June 15, 2023
She Dances Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Rick Parise
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She dances with grace, a sight to behold
She peers into the depths, to see a delightful face
Looking back, a spark lit the night
She glances at me, with a light-filled smile
Beyond her shoulder, an ambrosian world unfolds,
She poses in the mirror, a wave fits untold tales .
How ambrosian night that darkens so,
To guide me to my rest.
And in the stillness, I do know
That I am truly blessed.
Where a favored Book lights up my eyes,
As I read by candlelight.
And in the quiet, I realize
The peace that comes with the night.
The worries of the day are gone,
As I slip into my bed.
And in the silence, I am drawn
To thoughts of love and grace instead.
At night, I am alone
With my thoughts and my dreams.
And in the quiet, I have grown
Closer to the Lord, it seems.
So let the nightfall gently come,
And lead me to my rest.
For in the darkness, I have found
The blessings I love best.
Written: June 10, 2023
With irascible words, she continues to bemoan
Writing about poets with whom she picks a bone
Chastising those who like to compete in contests
She's infected with hate, like a pustulant abscess
Her bitter sarcasm abounds for quite a few poets
Shaming their competitiveness, then she blows it
She adds POTD beside her poem title when chosen
but her attitude is not what I would call ambrosian
Her "truth" is not what all of us choose to believe
It's so sad that she tries to offend us and aggrieve
She doth protest too much, and it's unbecoming
She's muddying the site with so much chumming
Many of us write what lies deep within our hearts
But we're not what she calls arrogant or up-starts.
We don't need our wrists slapped, like she has said
Leeches try to draw blood. We don't need to be bled.
Ambrosia. Food of the gods.
Yummy huh? I can taste the salad with pineapple and coconut.
Ambrosial…. delicious, sweet smelling.
Makes me think of dark chocolate, and still wonderful.
Ambrosian chant….singing introduced by St. Ambrose, about 384.
But then there is
Ambrasiaceous
Related to ragweed
Sneezing
Flaring up of asthma
Hay fever
Running nose
Itchy eyes
Misery and despair
Something needs to be issued a different name, right?
It just does not fit in with the others.
One of them is not the same.
Think Sesame Street, I always do.