“A hug from me, now..close your eyes.
Tomorrow is both a gift and a surprise!”
Panagiota Romios
Pangie was a sweet yet spicy soul
Amazing poetess with words of gold
Navy blue tears roll down my face
Angel’s never fear in heaven’s place
God bless you sweet and so kind
Indigo truths written speaking mind
Onyx nights looking up at the sky
Tangerine sun set bequests July
Amazing rainbows as you fly high
Roses are red in remembrance tribute
Olive in the drinks we toast to you
Miss your words and unique attitude
I hope like birds you fly away from blues
Onyx times here despite heaven’s gain
Still missing you is a poetic purple pain
I am grateful to Johann Wolfgang von Göethe
Who wrote this maxim….
and for all the truth it brings:
There are only two lasting bequests
we can hope to give our children:
One of these is roots
the other one is wings.
Postcard perfect- a picturesque town
Where the locals come to wind down
A hidden gem, a park of simplesse
An oasis, heavenly, it's beauty bequests
An art form to behold, a sculpture; nature's showpiece
Serene and tranquil in the heart of the city
A stream lined with a plethora of trees
Every color showcased upon their leaves
A vast variety, Each the opposite from the last
No comparison, within it's contrast
Harmoniously standing together
A strength against stormy weather
Surrounded by majestic abodes
So grand, each and all, becoming stories told
A backdrop- regal mountains- not seen before
Only Nature could compose such a musical score
Drink the water of mountain brook
Sweet and clear, it fills you with joy
Try it once, very soon you’re hooked
Much like ale, in thirst, to enjoy
Ancient music, from ages gone by
Is like stream, crystal clear ’n light
Stays as friend of my soul and ally
Simple sounds are total delight
Flute and oboe, old fiddle and harp
Horns and pipes, much forgotten today
Notes of centuries past ringing sharp
Viol and lyre shall take you away
Timeworn ballads of baroque guitar
Songs by lute so unlike of this age
Did forefathers, their times afar
Stood in awe, so enthralled and engaged?
Lucid tones, those of Handel and Bach
Strings Vivaldi bequests to eons
Their gifts outliving the clock
Olden music is still marching on
Plain sounds that go to the heart
Cleanse and soothe in perpetual stream
It survives the time, what an art
Shall live on, by not being extreme
© 2022
Sunrise in the morning fills the heart with glee,
a new day, a new start for you and for me.
Quote - Poet’s own
To Each Devottee
Sun raised her head in a blaze of glory
Rising from behind a picturesque tree
I stood in awe as she rose to her space
To shine down on the world with lustrous grace.
The sky was a sight to glimpse this morning
Bright blue with wispy cloudscape adorning
Sunrise is stunning, as is the sunset
Alluring bequests of which earth is blessed.
Ofttimes I ponder o’er planets mystique
How round the universe asteroids creep
Of the moon and stars that light up the night
Though by morning have disappeared from sight.
Praise to the magnificent creation
Being viewed worldwide from every nation
In different time zones though it may be
It’s God's precious gift to each devotee.
* * *
23rd October 2022
The primary climate pandemic problem
has something to do
fix
overpower
our Big Verbal Dominating
Vocations listing our best LeftBrain answers
pat and privileged
before deep RightBrain feeling quests
are evenly invited
into Earth's deliberating DNA dialogue,
much less the likelihood of full and equal engagement
in healthy ecosystemic destinies,
LeftBrain twitter manifest
or RightBrain OtherWise
Co-invested bequests,
regenerative requests
following generations of inquests
Into healing vengeful wounded climates
by re-investing in cooperative co-ownership
rather than more StraightWhiteMale privileged
competitive
repetitive redhot subclimates
of heated
unhealthy monocultures
of patriarchal LeftBrain
violent degeneration.
Egyptian goddess
impetuous and pompous
Cleopatra’s conquests
at history’s bequests
wielded a propensity
for dramatic intensity
She snared the great Marc Antony
lured him into salacious surreality
of whirlwind amorous insanity
their thirst for world domination
stirred a most legendary seduction
concocted in the heat of passion
From a cesspool of politics leveraging
exponential cunning and beguiling
struggles in a dance of supremacy
conniving betrayals with godlike fury
their superpower alliance
met all-consuming defiance
Unequaled legendary games fanatical
proving most problematical
honor deceit and lies tragic
loyalties and turmoil climactic
In the end love a destructive factor
with more than one malefactor
hearts hopelessly infatuated
suddenly freed and elated
finally devoid of grief and strife
bound to reunite in afterlife
Read on air by invitation ~ March 20, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 2nd place 2021, 3rd place 2021, 3rd place 2020, Honorable Mention 2022, Front Page Pick 2021
Be not becalmed, but busy, buzzy, bustling;
bedazzling but not bedraggled;
beloved, bewitched but be not besotted.
Be bewitching, but not belittling nor besmirching.
Begin to be -
become, belong, befriend, beseech, beget
Bewilder, befuddle, bedazzle,
Make bequests - beguile, beseech, bestow, bequeath,
to belay fate bedeviled with
what is not to be.
Beyond the buzzing, hustle and bumbling
be businesslike, but not belligerent nor bossy
Be bespattered with pollen begotten in harvest.
She was diagnosed with a terminal illness and had just a few more days,
Yet, she was in good spirits, joyful and her heart was filled with praise!
She got things in order and with her pastor discussed her final requests,
The songs to sing, her favorite Bible verse and distribution of her bequests.
Her last wish stunned the pastor as he bent to hear what she had to say!
"In all my years at church potlucks as the dishes were cleared away,
Someone would always say, 'Keep your fork; better things are on the way!'
That was my favorite time because I'd seen the many goodies on display!
Wonderful things and with substance such as luscious cherry pies,
Or velvety chocolate cakes; oh, so many things appealing to the eyes!
So, pastor I want to be buried clutching a fork in my right hand,
'Cause I know that 'better things are on the way' in The Promised Land!"
"What's with the fork?", folks wondered as past her casket they filed.
The pastor knowing her last request kept it in his heart and simply smiled.
So, next time you reach for your fork and life seems a bit humdrum,
Let it remind you, oh, ever so gently, 'that the best is yet to come!'
Does a banished beacon beckon?
But of course all beacons beckon
But only briefly if not brightly
Though never as boldly as the baritone
Before balancing bagpipes blowing ballads
But it’s got backbone and backfires
Unlike the babbling bellow of a baboon
Baffling unbelievably because it’s so beautiful
Below bitter backlash in its blackened background
It behooves that a backtalking boyband backstage
Betwixt a balmy bamboozled ballet bandstand
Would betray benign bountiful bequests
Between a bashful baroness’ baptism by barnacle
And a bastardly barrage of barroom banter
But yes all in all the banished beacon does beckon
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on July 1, 2019 for CONTEST NO 620 WITH ALLITERATION STYLE THEREIN sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 2ND
Spring Rebirth
Spring wakes from hibernation on warm days
which March allows, near closure of her reign.
But, since she's fickle, wind and snow regain
the right to visit, spread their frosty glaze.
Yet, mostly, we will see new growth displays,
encouraged by spring air and April rain,
that splendidly repaint the dull terrain,
with verdant wash and lovely pastel haze.
Our reborn spring unveils her youthful glow,
unfolding on the plains and mountain crests.
Along the valleys and their streams below,
her blooms and leafy trees grace each plateau.
And coupling among creatures soon bequests
new life...to multiply, replenish, grow.
Sandra M. Haight
~10th Place~
Contest: Petrarchan Sonnet
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Rhyme Scheme: abbaabba cdccdc
A Conquest- Last line prompt
When ink of romance
subdues respect for nature,
Exploitation begins
treasures seem perpetual,
Obliterated thoughts
drop down the curtains,
Devastation knocks
on constant failure to unveil,
A wake up call, wake up
with hunger to introspect,
Satiate this appetite
howbeit, the fancy foods,
A conquest ....
for luscious bequests
bestowed by Him,
Instead of drinking coffee
in cafes of Berlin.
Written Jan 28th, 2016
For contest by Julia Ward
A Taste of Paradise
Passionate, moonlit nights ensconced in my beloved’s embrace,
A feeling of exquisite pleasure … we’re totally consumed by desire’s fire.
Restored is our faith in the enduring power of true love,
And the gift of infinite joy it bequests to the heart and soul.
Drunk on emotions, delightfully we soar, wrapped up
Intensely in these magical moments, glowing in rapture so divine, we
Sing a harmonious duet to enthralling heavenly music; so
Enchanting and eternal like stars is our love … we taste Paradise.
12-22-2015
Contest: Paradise - Acrostic
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Placement: 3rd
In honor of a wonderful, kind person who has been mentor to me and so many others and still gives so much even as time has taken so much from him...
With that rickety shuffle,
he stays close to the wall
a concession, so small
to time's passing
Hand gently probing,
like radar to guide
home safely, with pride
those sore bones
Creaky old soul,
still wobbling along
a spirit, so strong
that's prevailed
No aid is requested,
no quarter he's asked,
ever stoic he masks
any twinge or regret
These tolls; the taxes,
the price to be paid
for a life that's made
so many prosper
Wisdom and courage,
his gifts; his bequests
given all for the best
of his flock
Honor, remember
don't ever forget
the duty, the debt,
the old master
Signor Fellini
Imagine us
Respectful of your shadows
Held in suspension by your cinematic mirror
These dreams of yours
Realized through creation’s gift
Offer such ethereal answers
To those of us aroused
Beyond the screen
Your genius remains omnipresent
Extended for touching by hearts and minds
Beseeching all to embrace
Granting acknowledgment and insight
Beyond usual cinema bequests
Yes Signor Fellini
You brought your vision to our eyes
Asking not we accept
But merely contemplate the little boy
Made man behind the camera
For such curiosity
You granted patience
Never asking we believe your honesty
But to consider our own truth
Your essence remains present
Resounding quietly above life’s noise
Easily accessed with but memory
Thoughtfully embraced with smiles of trust
May the purity of La Dolce Vita’s final scene
The echo of silence
From distance unamplified
Whispering from within
Ever haunt those unable to listen
Those unwilling to hear
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