A Sky Arched Canvas
Arched by rays of sunshine,
Out of the womb
Of breaking water,
She came:
A dome of the Earth:-
No less than always,
Has been her crowning beauty:
A reflective multi-hued bouquet,
Only God can gather and arrange:-
She’s as old as time,
Yet, her hemispheric radiance,
Has not been altered by it:-
From time immemorial,
The world has been privileged
To her radiant glow:
Little else has been as beautiful
As God’s canvassing, cosmic rainbow:-
Beneath the arched vault of infinity, immerse yourself in the mystified blue,
Where loneliness utters incantations in silent reverberations
With a tempered voice,
In melodies of screaming blue, divine sarabandes,
Deep tones from a subtle bass, dotted with electrum sparks.
Listen in the azure penumbra to the bright furies of stillness,
The piercing, insinuating hiss of a voice in indigo and soiree,
Painting a picture in clandestine duet,
With feathers of vibrant azure and the nocturnal trees of the sky.
Blue invokes a sacred lexicon, the cryptic nimbus of aquamarine,
A work in melodic tones, an archaic poetry, balm for the soul,
Deciphering the serene hieroglyphs of the firmament,
Minor verses that nestle in the endless azure plain,
In a prose text adorned with noble crocus flowers.
Blue upon blue in unhurried hymns,
Voices whispering gracefully green the evening’s blue adornments
Of the lullaby fluttered in celestial waves,
In the cobalt ocean of encompassing midnight hope,
Speaking with wisdom, in the mysterious language of blue.
I am feeling angry like an arched back cat!!
I am feeling angry like an arched back cat!!,
Getting ready to spring in to action,
With my claws out, getting ready to rip,
With all my pent up anger inside,
My ears are like radars,
They swivel, helping me to home in effectively on my prey,
I pounce and grab hold, however hard they try,
I can not be shaken,
I dig my claws in for a tighter grip,
Until the very end when I get tiered.
An arched pergola
Filled with flora and leaves
Seasonal décor
Leaves of many colors
Attach to the archway
A lit pathway
Made from Jack-O-Lanterns
Reaches the porch
Great pumpkins
All carved very nicely
Evil faces sour
The lawn is dark
No light reaches its bank
Evil may lurk
Deep into the night
Stay on the lit path
Russell Sivey
Arched bridge across the pond
Inviting to cross into a dream
A dream of seeing the reflections
Of the beautiful weeping willow
Gray bridge do I dare cross
Over to the other side to meet
My love, the love of my life
The soul mate for which I long
To sit close to him reaching
Into the pond and feel the lilies
Soak in the color..wedding white
With velvet green leaves
Should I stay, waiting for him
To call to me, then cross over
Your sturdy boards that are gray
From time and many crossings
Listen I hear my love
He calls arise come my love
Come refresh yourself from life
Feast on the beauty of lilies
Go I must into the dream
To refresh in his love my king
(Written after viewing Claude Monet's Water-Lily Pond- Symphony in Green)
Sponsor:Heather Ober
Contest: Famous Art
Arched back, my toes curl
River down my spine, eyes closed,
Soft lips, head back. Breathe.
In the room
a fist penetrates
the meling air.
A slender
long
line
is moving,
bent backwards,
arched in
still wonder
at its shimmying splendor
in the dark.
What could be as smooth,
as
slimy
smooth,
as
a
snake
wiggling
and
calling
in
the
night?
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