Delectable daze
aligned aesthetic
shimmered swoon
of
bespoke ripples
svelte meander
induced isthmus
vapour vaulting
veracity stoic
conscious cognizant
bard assimilating
aureate archways
seismic
rendered relish
goading effervescent
literary lullaby
interwoven
opportune foramen
tinctured chasm
or otherworld
fractured frisson
bejewelled
template tempter
sonic madrigal
enticing
creative lunge
toward tiered
vanilla visuals
for
ethereal lyric
deft minstrel
of
fermented finesse.
lithe moulder
authorised pen
swimming
enigmatic estuaries
whilst
dance retinue
sunshine swathes
pivotal pirouette
spawning
erudite enjambment
satin weave
gossamer lens
whose
amaranthine fixed
focus eschews
bland doggerel
instead
chatoyant cynosure
replenished quill
lacquers
indigo imbued
bunting’s warble
inducing
hypnotic portrait
surreal verse
delirious
weave web
unravelled
dream denouement
of
epic entablatures
Of a foaminess hung
Rose-round, odorous
Or what, ivy-musty, a sturdy
Held up ruin pose as
No grander is one led
Nor quite as gracious
Up paths, though rough, to doors, though warped
Than neath one's bricked mass.
Green, that enraptured hue scape a blooming quilt,
goodness gracious am I gracious for being that tint,
to loiter breezily amid the luscious woodland habitat,
as this green chameleon spring spree now ubiquitous,
I am that maestro metaphor for wild adornment rife,
whilst trailing pots, urns and archways in deft design,
green hedges, lawns, verges, meadows, trees I bless,
am I that arch victim of my mint leaf fragrant fetish?
a dash of humour surely counts as nuanced shade,
so I’m “GREENING” from ear to ear - could not resist!
The cottage with its black window frames and white pebble dash glows in the
summer sunshine.
The hum of the lawn mower can be heard cutting the green lawn dotted with
dandelions and daisies.
In the orchard the blossom is on the fruit trees.
We have apples and plums
Summer snowflakes flowers around a tree with their heads bowed in
sunshine.
Butterflies and bees dance amongst the shrubs.
Forget-me-nots are scattered around the cottage gardens.
Candles are laden on the horse chestnut tree.
The birds are calling that summer is here.
Dad's wood that he liked so much, is green.
The trees with their leaves and branches create archways as you wander
along the paths.
The wood is still and quiet, a place to reflect and remember dad.
His sculpture is next to the summer house.
Bluebells underneath the canopy of a tree.
Summer will turn to autumn and the garden will have lots of memories.
Surrounded by gold Lustre
Old Clock chiming
extinguished the last vestiges
of the day
streets laying bleeding
the venom pliable
The last revillers
dressed in tweed
their wanna be yesterdays
slide in between
Dance Hall
the harlequins of the night
scratch ones gilded fears
Paint peeling
lonely Moths
lost archways
Gargoyles point singular finger
Rhinestone cowboys
worship the jaws of the night
Laughing girls sing lonely tunes
Its 4 O'clock
welcome grey dawn
In the heart of a rose garden, where
butterflies, birds, and rabbits dwell,
Lovers meet to chat and indulge in
the lingering sweet scent of smells.
Under archways of multicoloured
roses, seeds of promises are sown
and whispered secrets merge into
the air,
It’s a sanctuary where restless hearts
with confused thoughts and emotions
are laid bare.
Brokenhearted lovers take refuge in
the garden as it offers tranquillity,
comfort and inner peace.
Every leaf and petal, a witness to
feelings released,
Within this sacred space, wounds
heal, and like morning dew, unsettled
tears are on view,
Visitors leave, some hand in hand,
excited or relieved, and some grey
or blue.
In this paradise, dreams come true
as hearts connect through love.
Passion and desires blossom like
flowers in spring,
Hearts of strangers become friends
overflowing with delight, a blessing
from above,
In this magical garden for lovers,
souls are entwined, and hearts
joyfully await the sound of wedding
bells to ring.
By Zyrool
Nights infusion
bleary eyed rivals
in Soho tweed
Pharaohs joke was here
Denim clad oxymorons
with spotlight eyes
Archways lean close
as sticks befuddle
their spark of epiphany
A jewelled silence
captures the gangsters in silhouette
Freaks five a penny
prolapse the night
Years ago, in a big transition in my life,
I witnessed three rainbow archways.
Framed by sun-kissed red apartments,
The setting sun kisses goodbye to the cloudless sky.
I took a picture then, between the runs from my old home
and my mother's car. Glistening brow and squinting eyes,
I raised my phone, holding it horizontally, 1...2...3.
I remembered an old meme about double rainbows,
but I found three. Back to putting cardboard boxes into the car.
The pictures were blurry, unfocused, and slightly fuzzy.
Like a memory, from one phone to the next,
The photos get transferred. Until one day, I've lost them.
I hadn't a guess where they went, lost to time probably.
Now I have slightly fuzzy archways to remember within.
One archway for the home I'm leaving behind,
Another for the latest transition to my new life,
And the last for the future I do not know.
A rainbow, a rainbow, a rainbow
Three distant rainbows I have no proof of, oh well.
I need only to remember to ensure they don't fade away.
The death knell, ringing requiem bell,
a saddening sound,
archways they pass, tears flood the mass,
deep and deathly profound.
Of what we know, strange seeds we sow,
returning to us with a taunt
a tree of poisonous root, bares similar fruit,
wrinkled, pus filled and gaunt.
Lessons to learn for the freedom we yearn,
paid for in blood and gold,
lounge in the chateau covered with shadow,
and wait for the truth to unfold.
For we all have plight it doesn't make it right,
to wallow, fester and judge,
waste deep in sewage when the torrent deluge,
rushes in thicker than sludge.
Clumped altogether for worse or better,
seeking the price of the unknown,
soaring in flight then catching the sight,
of the one-eyed King on the throne.
A tunnel entrance into a building
Can be very pleasing to the eye
You never know what you will find.
It can be interesting to walk through
You never know what you will be seen
Some entrances are short others longer
They have different items hanging
Along the pass ways as you walk by
It could be art work or mosaic design
You never know what you will see
I have seen stripes on walls
these stripes look like archways
Leading us into a special place
A tunnel wall that leads us into
a building is never boring
Always something to see
It could lead to theatres
Or into a shopping mall
Or an art gallery show
Tunnels into buildings
Can be interesting
You never know what
You will see on the
tunnel walls
Sticky sweet misty slippery slide
Coins overflow cauldron of gold
Translucent syrup signals rain's retreat
Archways segway to sunshine
Sliders collect treasure
Rainbow jelly sqish with licks light-hearted
Child like spirit devours vibrant lifesavers
Hazy amazing raised flag, fresh start
re-emerging sun
shines spectrum delectable
spectacular projector
Submitted to Chantelle Anne Cooke's
Best NA Poem from September
4th October 2020
4th September 2020
Nature - Four In One Poem Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Once upon a time, I wanted some Archways,
Those yummy spicy Windmills, I say,
So good spread with soft cream cheese,
To keep myself if you please.
Got in my clunker to head down the road,
Hidden in that car was a horny toad,
Sat on the alternator and killed the motor,
In the middle of the street, thought I was a goner.
A rainstorm started and drew out the frog,
He was so thirsty he drank like a hog,
Thought of pumpkins while I was waiting,
The engine started with out that weight-on.
Goodbye, Mr. Frog, I’ll have pumpkin pie,
Hope you don’t drink rainwater until you die,
I’ll mosey on to my grocery store,
Get those Windmills and eat some more.
The zipper was broke on my old rain coat,
The Windmills got wet and I got soaked,
But the clunker started without the old frog,
And I chuggety chugged with a splash in the bogs.
Once upon a time I went to the store;
My Clunker broke down, should I say more,
Strong Foundation
Limerick
Tom
7/8/2018
There once was a man, who built a new home,
It had beautiful archways and a golden dome.
The foundation was on sand,
Meaning it wouldn’t stand,
Instead of wood he should have used Styrofoam?
The Rider
Slivers of skyline
tree arms of emerald
the waning sunset,time runs out
peach colored archways, lest we forget
Golden grass tall as fences
white birches swaying gently
the howls of a wolf
in the dark of night
Emptiness and fog
go hand in hand
rotting buildings and tumbleweeds
the apocalypse is here!
The rider collects his dues
a silver barrel jutting out
wearing jeans and a tattered coat
with no exceptions,as to the blood on his shoes
He has a malicious tongue
and a roll of smokes
his breath, cold as winter
the eyes bright as the sun
His steed, a glowing ember of red
teeth white like a ghost, tail whipping wild
muscular legs and ginormous head
snorting smoke to which he couldn’t blow
The pale horse of death
limping, on its last leg
drinking water from a creek
as if it were a keg
The land dusty and brown
gods of chariots, fire and brimstone
falling from the sky
mythical creatures with no reason why
He gives no mercy…. Just death
Strolling the city streets with your heart on my sleeve
I'm demeaned by lies then left to cry
Staggered beauty through archways i watched her go away
without a word to say if we’ll try again
No i’ll never love you again
the same way i did today
No it’ll never be the same again
before they led you astray
astray from me
promises flown by the wind of dreams we hoped to begin
are left to rust as we become the past
without a fight the truth will someday come alight
so go on now! and disappear before the night!
No i’ll never love you again
the same way i did today
No it’ll never be the same again
before they led you astray
astray from me
This is how it ends
This is how it falls apart
with broken hearts
we are now left in shards
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