Best Ablaze Poems
Henry VI and Napoleon were crowned Kings there
A hunchback found his lady fair,
But heartbreak comes to Notre Dame
As she is now in flames
Joan of Arc, whose reputation was maligned
Was beatified there in 1909
But heartbreak comes for Notre Dame
As she is now in flames
The flames have died, the lady stands
She'll be restored and again be grand
Where once, the hunchback, with heart aflame
Found love and solace with this Dame
4-21-19
Notre Dame In The News Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Skies ablaze, day is done
Dying rays, setting sun
Embers sink in the sea
One last wink let it be
Light will fade, darkness shrouds
Flight of birds above clouds
8-10-2021
Chilled, I whispered his name on this frosty morning
dawning found me shivering on my side of the bed
I always dread waking to the absense of his touch
How much I miss comforting warmth of loving arms
Icy cold were the sheets where he used to sleep
Weep at the sight, unrumpled on his side of the bed
The pillow where he laid his head beckoned me
in plea. I pressed it to my cheek and shared my tears
His woolen socks on my feet, a remnant I had to keep
Sweeping light peeked in through the window shade,
afraid a mirror will paint my eyes swollen in sullen red.
Dead is a marriage when one sleeps alone in the bed
~ ~ ~
How painful had been the sadness of my leaving
grieving with each step I had been slowly taking.
Aching from the firethorns blazing in my chest
then a behest I could not ignore; a glance his way
Felt piercing cuts, as though I walked on broken glass
Alas, his cry of sorrow made me stop and frown.
Down the path he came to me. He spoke not a word
but I heard in his final kiss, the things he meant to say
I prayed in that moment for the strength to walk away
To stay would make a mockery of what once was love.
Above, the sky grew dark, a cold rain began to fall,
a squall to match the storm, borne within my heart
May 12th, 2017
snow has gone and the earth's reborn, bringing new life~ ablaze with colour
Flying alone
over fury enthroned
Its colors reign free
and clear
The enemy stained
all freedom regained
Covered in blood
spent and dear
Stitched yellow and blue
its messages true
That Svealand does
not run
To hang steadfast
and slay the past
And carry our glory
sum
A crest ablaze
through fire and haze
Horses hooves high in
the air
Now honor bound
on sacred ground
Heralding death
—our cross to bear
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born.
The odd uneven time—Sylvia Plath
End Of August
The end of August is oh so near
Yet, another day of golden sun scorches
Another day with ruby rays that sear
Wild brush burns like fiery torches
No not an exaggeration, a flambeau
Blistering heat blankets my tawny skin
Sweltering August, I bid you adieu
Foliage dry and brittle; sunken in
Squinting eyes, blinded bright
Awaiting shadows that stretch and deepen
Sun flowers once vivid, lost in a haze of light
Autumn creeps in imperceptibly subtle, sublimely
Ablaze are the arid western skies
The evening west's sun takes its time, rashly, untimely
Yellow aglow, settling sights of fires belies
Lingering sun setting its rouge rage lust
Harbinger of the season to come
Equinox heralds a sign,
in the end of August
Mysterious forces gather into the mind
bleeding with excitement ,fragrancing the night.
This is the time of visions sought, dreams refreshed.
Many splendored is this night,the dark flows swiftly.
Find yourself in the arms of imagination and painted glory.
You are the captain of this splendid vessel,onward sail
to anywhere those phantoms of the past can be lost.
Regenerate, rejuvenate,feast on the fruits of a new endeavor.
Sparkle the night sky with a dazzling delivery of words come from the soul.
For far too soon the daylight will beckon and start those logical processes once more.
written by Deb Wilson 1/11/2014
for contest "Into Night's Dwelling"
sponsored by nette onclaud
A Greek mythological classical character chosen,
Medusa with her snake hair and stone stare, a frozen
Look turning people to stone, originally a vision of beauty,
A woman of erotic desire, who inflicted unimaginable cruelty,
Her destiny to become an unapproachable monster,
Many attempted to kill her, heroes and many a mobster,
Her punishment, all because Poseidon willfully raped her
Bringing about woe upon all women whoever they were.
The Greek God Perseus renowned for killing
Such beasts, ordered by King Polydectus whether willing
Or not, to go and bring back her head,
Perseus had a plan how to slay Medusa, delivering it dead.
This was a hero, but still sweat collected on his brow, DRIP
Drip, drip, but bravely approached her abode, a swift SNIP
Went his sharp sword which did ,SMASH
Down with might, and Medusa’s blood did SPLASH
It was rumored that from the severed head came a BELCH
As her blood in Perseus’s hands went SQUELCH.
This warrior’s deed was certainly brash, swiftly did snatch
Medusa’s head, Perseus the hero for whom there was no match.
Well worked his plan, held his shield at an angle, a space
At which he could see the reflection of her face
On his shield, but not look into her eyes, he scored an ace,
The horrifying snakes in her hair died, her eyes ablaze
A statue of Medusa’s head shown as averting assailant’s gaze.
Contest Entry: Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Date: 01/11/2021
The spark ignited and threatened the paper
The corners curled and burned black
ablaze in reds
It left behind the black ashes
Of regret
It closed into the center
The trail of uncontrollable
Disaster
The smoke obscured reality
And left the surroundings in a lightless poisonous cloud
Choking on the only air there was left
Until it was devoured all alone
Embedded deeply in trickles of rain;
I grasp love’s ending as my head lays down
On a field of blossoms, their tresses agleam,
Curtsying gaily unto April winds...
Dear sunflower, sunflower, lift me high
Your lustrous twirls beheld to these cold eyes;
In fresh revelry, a tearful heart whispers
For daylight of change… now a bud ablaze,
Igniting my faith, reborn like your sway
To dance again through heavenly prayers!
Contest 204 for Brian Strand
Reposted 9/17/2016
A dry stone wall
of moss-grown granite
staggers,
lush undulating plains
swaggers,
fields ablaze with wildflowers
bows
at a curvaceous hollow
where a copper stream gurgles below.
Sheep fluff velvet meadows
mirror cotton clouds above.
Stooped,
they graze
on buttercup fields
Blotched blurs,
they climb
to higher ground
where
Lilting melodies
lace the trees
sweeping the air
with apple blossom
on a dove day afternoon
Written for Francine Roberts contest "Flowers" by Eiken Laan 27 January 2011.
Buttercup Fields
Paint Me Ablaze
paint me ablaze
like Rome
start from the head eyeballs mouth nose
castle
hills via neck
harnessed
dusty roads
long hands fingers of
books
waist stomach
kingdom of sorrow
all the king's seats
streams of the fields
and valleys of love
my thighs and knees will slowly burn
for a sign of my future shame
paint
a birth mark
my calves that are trained to go stright ahead til the ankles
convents
feet
toes
the king's army
like an air my name will burn
my meaning will be strewn from my ashes
any sense from my tendons will be free
translated from Hebrew:
Michael Simkin
Down where purple Wisteria blooms
Love's presence draws nature
Setting aflame breathless desire
Hearts soften thoughts alter
Birds pair, adoring sight fills love's cup
Beautiful in love's flight
Attentive you become charming
Affectionate delight
Spring's allure captivating my thoughts
So ablaze I love thee
Each absorbing thought is of you
Admirable yet brawny
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Contest: Spring is in the air
Written this 28th day of February 2013
Crepe Myrtle ablaze, set afire
By sunbeams peeking through
A heavy damp fog that settles
And kisses the fresh dew
Golden leaves contrast the Myrtles
Those leaves on the pecan
And amber needles hang weighted
Lovely in the new dawn
[Continued from Part Two]
The elder took no notice of risking life and limb.
Hither, thither ran the children, glancing up at him,
while indulging mindlessly in each impulsive whim,
with no apprehension of the future looking grim.
Their chances for salvation seemed increasingly slim…
That aged man’s deep compassion filled him to the brim.
The father knew the children liked any strange device,
exotic playthings, trinkets, whatever would entice.
He needed now to improvise a mode, in a trice,
that could capture their attention— something to suffice
to hold their young imaginations— to be precise,
a mechanism marvelous, no matter the price.
He had stores of immeasurable wealth, beyond doubt,
and his warmhearted love was impartially devout.
Just then the elder had the thought that not in the least
would his limitless riches and reserves be decreased,
even if to a kingdom vast he were to dispense
his overflowing fortune… so why shouldn’t he hence
give out his wealth directly to his progeny all,
before the children’s catastrophic deaths should befall?
The aged man reflected on what tactic to pick—
an expedient means that was sure to do the trick.
He told the children of exquisite toys he possessed
along with lots of precious carts of the very best
craftsmanship and quality, that all had been designed
expressly with the youngsters’ own enjoyment in mind.
The elder next, in order to persuade them, stated
that right outside the house at the entrance awaited,
to suit the young ones’ fancies skillfully created
goat, sheep, deer, and ox carts, ornately decorated.
He said that they must rush to leave the mansion, in haste,
and he’d give them everything— there was no time to waste.
Then the children finally fulfilled his desire
and scurried in a race safely out of the fire.
The father beamed with bliss that the urgency had passed.
They had securely left the burning building at last!
When they’d exited and scampered out, they all sat down
on the dewy earth and asked their father, with a frown,
where the toys and carts were that the elder had portrayed
for their own special likings to have been tailor-made.
The youngsters had escaped and the elder’s heart was eased.
But now each one of their capricious wants must be pleased.
[Continued in Part Four]
~ Harley White