The grueling skies are darkened now
as heavy clouds clutch barren ground
through thickened fog there lies a bog
a silent menace, foreboding grog.
Yet now, against my wiser will
I slog, to view the slimy pit
that locks the suffocating water tight
no ripples flow, no fresh respite.
A strange attraction draws me in
to meld within this cursed lip of spite
it carries me down and out of sight
to solemn end, to depth of night.
catty seductress
wizard of feline wiles
~ whisker trickster
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
the footprints you leave daily within my heart
give me joy like bees when windflowers start to sway
announcing the birth of yet another spring
beguiling and graceful like a peacock in bloom
A beguiling cat does everything for gain.
His innocently jaded, kindly, loving, mein -
not only prevarication,
quietly raising station,
trotting up, vexingly, while xeriscaping your zone.
From
my
kismet
this time, I
will ask boldly, a
different kind of life to live...
Full of adventures, romance of beguiling nature;
but not again, a mundane, normal, humdrum and a run-of-the-mill life anymore.
I wish I were a poet.
I think I am, I know it.
My mind says “don’t blow it.”
I think I’ll give it time.
Poems I’ve read a lot, you know,
I haven’t read enough, although,
to make a mark in time and show
I think I’ll give it time.
This is fun. It gives me rest.
Especially when I read the best.
My soul and heart they do arrest.
I think I’ll give it time.
Sauntering, laughing, skipping, beguiling,
thoughts and words, visions compiling.
As I write, my heart is smiling.
I think I’ll give it time.
TIME’S UP! ??
Beguiling spring, how bold your arrogance
You shameless season painted in conceit
Parading up and down each city street
O'er hill, through dale, you flaunt your elegance
Each tree, each flower, bathed in decadence
Each gale, each breeze, your moods so indiscreet
Each dawn you send your birdsong out to greet
A vain display of your benevolence
And yet each year we welcome your return
With song and poem, we celebrate your style
We rush to be the first to photograph
A daffodil, a bud, a waking fern
You always make that winter wait worthwhile
On every heart you leave your autograph.
Daniel Turner
Beguiling Spirits
I know of their enchantments
The longings they inspire
Of promised inhibitions
And kindling desire.
Constrained by walls which glimmer
Opaque or dim or clear
Sweet barely muted whispers
Succumb the naked ear.
A hand upon the vessel
The stopper freed at last
A casual undulation
Poured neat into the glass.
Embracing sips then swallows
Well finished is the fight
Enveloped by the liquor
Of amber, red, or white.
So blessed the Rose that knows no pain
Exquisite Empress with elegance reigns
To please my world with joy and grace
Her essence furled her scent embraced
Bewitched by love and sweet refrain
She wears her thorns so smug and vain
To place her scorn to make joy feign
Her beauty shows a selfish face
Beguiling Rose of mine
So when my faith and dreams thus drain
As blood flows red from wounded stain
Forgetting not her bliss erased
Her radiant face of wine and lace
She pricks my heart with such disdain
Beguiling Rose of mine
February 19, 2021
Open Poetry 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charlotte Puddifoot
Winter cold and beguiling
Pearls and gold twine woven braids,
Elegant alluring lace gown
Fade, drag crystalline pure snow
Calm and beautiful
Capture dawn of poetry
Feverish whispers
Turnt over snow
Children dress warmly
Entertaining and engaging
Snowman, snow angels,
And snowball melees
1/8/2020
A lovely lady beguiles a luckless lad
Of unwitting others she might have had
The fairest face may be foul of heart
Deft deceit is how now it shall start
Like fated moths drawn to the light
Novices can't tell wrong from right
This lady then connives confusing witch's what
Spins spells that do convince what is not
She conjures him to shirk sacred duty
So sure he's blinded by her beauty
She coyly coddles this beamish boy
His twisted thinking in frabjous joy
He peers deeply down into her soul
Seeing darkness finding blackest coal
It hearkens back to Eden's first sin
Stirs silent shadows sunk long within
Beware that all's not as it seems
Beauty's illusion can change what it means
Purpose or pulchritude which will impress
When next we witness a damsel's distress
Revelations Of Beguiling Gaze, From The Witch's Head
From dark abyss, many light-years away
witch's head, its beguiling, evil gaze,
yellow-eyed sockets, curses to betray
far more sinister in that blacken haze.
Alas! Its lights gleam in brightest allure.
Leading its lost victims to blindness sure.
She steeped in paganism, its evil spells
spiral coils, deceiving serpent-like trance,
heaving breasts, illusions from distant hell
baits true romantics, by star rays romance.
Alas! Its lights gleam in brightest allure.
Leading its lost victims to blindness sure.
Her reach, into space and far, far beyond
mighty darken surge, her galactic source,
hiding darkness of which devils are fond
to destroy innocent mortals of course.
New poem, 6-04-2019
Nifty Named Nebula's Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Chose: #9 - The Witch's Head Nebula
Beautiful Brenda was bewitched by a man she created in her novel,
Blissfully absorbed in her imagination with this man she marveled.
Boats and the sea were his lifelong passions.
Besotted with the ocean, it sparked supreme satisfaction.
Beguiled with this boater, Dan, the author had imagined,
Brenda futilely fantasized about this blue-eyed man with abandon.
By chance, she was invited on a cocktail cruise with some friends.
Brenda decided she needed a break from her passionless pretend.
Blustery and brilliant, the day azurely arrived.
Brenda was unaware a blind date had been craftily contrived.
Befuddled at first she met this new man called Ben.
Blushing and irresistible, the inevitable dance began.
Ben was uncannily alike the magnificent man in her book,
Brawny, with a sensational smile that required a second look.
Ben was the boat owner, and loved the seductive sea like Dan.
But he was not imaginary, and the romance took off and ran!
9/10/16
Written for "Brenda" Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Awarded 1st Place
Listen to my nursery rhyme
A tale so regaling, yet sublime
Sated with jester, clown and mime
Riddler along to sanction every, literary crime
Mime to mimic my contorted form
Jester to scuttle every, accepted norm
Clown to mock all that seek to conform
Riddler to meter and rhyme deform
Muse that deadens every line
Stanzas that have no structure or byline
Verse with no purpose or design
Syntax without luster or shine
Scribe with pen so erudite
Quipster all his words to blight
Cantor to sing of convention and rite
Charlatan to make his anthem trite
Story without beginning or end
Chorus that will constantly amend
Regular patterns, meaning to rend
To all readers I now condescend
Up and down in the tree
A monkey led a life so free
How could she be so glad?
From below, thought a hunter’s lad.
A jar full of groundnuts he found
And placed it on the ground
Leaving that place without any sound
Hid himself near a mound
“Groundnuts to my eyes are pleasing
They sure must be life nourishing
Perhaps can make me wise, no doubting”
Thus saying she slowly came descending.
Near the jar she did go
Let her hand in for a few nuts or so
When her hand got caught
Ways to escape she sought
Yet, unwilling to drop the food
She helf for they looked good
Finally fell to the hunter’s trap
Became a slave bearing his strap
Beware of the beguilin bait
Kept by Satan that’s on wait
Leave sin and chose Jesus now
Redeem time, days are evil, don’t you know?
Remember your Creator when you are young
Not when there’s a problem in your lung.
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