Best Afters Poems


For My Children

You’re all in charge of authoring a story
Of love and humor, suspense and glory
You’re writing starts with your very first thought
And doesn’t end til your life is naught.

Know, My Dears, these books; your own
There are no cowriters; authors unknown
Flip those pages and make your quills dance
Miss no opportunities, take a chance

If somewhere in those thick tomes of yours
You have questions “whys and what fors?”
Do not ponder and then overthink
For there’s no such thing as permanent ink

There will be some tearstained pages
Most likely in your middle ages
There will be words you’d like to forget
Or phrases in which you may regret

But when it reaches the golden stage
The best of the story in a later page
Grab a pencil and throw some sparks	
And don’t be afraid of eraser marks

Then once it’s written and you do find
There was a time of hurt when life’s unkind
Go ahead and toss out awful chapters
Because Momma loves Happily Ever Afters
Categories: afters, for teens, life, my
Form: Rhyme

Rainfall

Hiding alone in the shadows

guarded, trusting no one

silently watching, waiting

Is life worth living?

Can anyone save him?

His vision clouded, blurred

The sunless skies have him confused

Rainfall begins

a drenching and soaking rain

pours down

flooding the autumn bonfires 

Which blazed in once upon a time 

with ardent passion 

in the dense forest 

of happily ever afters
Categories: afters, confusion, dark, fantasy, rain,
Form: Free verse

Hushed Whispers

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Delicate amid natures bareness these dreams unfold...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Breast to breast within passions breath, this rendezvous?!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Embracing as wanting lips touch to invite, loves tingling desires 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Turning to face this inscription once carved, as anticipations arrival ~

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

These hushed whispers in tomorrows promise; kneeling gently refined

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

To taste the forbidden fruit of her gardens, temptress flesh... 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Parting the softness of enraptured as, pearls of pleasure ensue 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Caressing two hearts disrobed in sweetened, creamful sighs ~

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dew drops clinging to the gazing forest; its blanket of bliss to fall

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As crescendo begins to paint its colours, in sixty-nine different hues...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Silent laughter echoing in the afters, smiling, euphoric moments glow!?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hushed Whispers” ~
Categories: afters, life, love, passion
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Waiting

They stand and wait.
Those who had gone before,
At the bridge of whatever,
Where whenever goes.

Many colours many kinds,
All have the same label.
The befores waiting
for the afters.

The bridge is of many a hue,
Worn with the passing through
the trampling, of those ready.
followed by the dragging back, of the undecided,
The masters call, a pull, a tug.

Where is this bridge?
In the hereafter,
Yet they wait,
       wait for that one being.
They are all there
at Rainbows Bridge.
Alert 
      waiting,
           waiting, 
               waiting.

For their master.

O
Categories: afters, hope,
Form: Verse

Premium Member The Gift

It vibes in harmonics broadband, a musical language universal,
Echoing across the heights divides, falling as a thunderstorms,
Raw force of spiritual power, descending from the heavens above,
The angels do yield, surrendering the gift of music unto the world
Of man.
Pierced by their angelic thorny prongs, tender notes of rhythm,
Melt downwards from the silver lining of graces everlasting meadows
Of inspiration.
Separations clouds expose the here ever afters, sparks of the divinities
Fame burning as a torch lighting up the skies white powder showering
The earth with sweet melodic undertones, a thundering vibrating beat felt
Throughout the pulsating heart of nature itself.
Music lives within all things, it binds a connecting link, a 
Symphony a blending element, a melting promise between heaven and
Earth, a harmonious balance, light equaling dark.
In the vaults of the skies, the heavenly chorus joins with
The voices of humanity singing a song of complete
Harmony.
What a true wonder is this gift given unto mankind,
To write and sing, to share such expressionism with
One another, music is honestly a universal language
Understood by every nation, or age group beneath
The heavens themselves.
A heritages legacy passed down from grandfathers,
To fathers, and than to sons, and daughters,
Is this the love and wonder of these arts there in
So shared by all members of the human race for
Generations of inspiration to come.
I listen to the songs sang by the morning doves,
To the charming voices of our youthful young,
Than those jolly fellows from days gone by,
You know the old barber shop quorate.
So many variations and depths of degrees,
Harmony, rock-n-roll, to golden oldies country,
Music is a wonderment all to it's own glory.
So we thank you those powers on high,
For this miracle of a gift called music.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: afters, art, beauty, imagery, imagination,
Form: Free verse

In the Midst of My Dreams

In the midst of my dreams

where happily ever afters

and fairy tales come true

the scarlet rose moon dips 

as she dances along side me

under a million flickering strobes

illuminating our milky way serenade

I call out her name

and the brightest star shines 

I watch her gleam

I watch her glow

basking in all that's good

and I know

that beauty

The same beauty I see in her face

as I hear those fragrant whispers

showering down on me
© Tim Smith  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: afters, love,
Form: Free verse


The Flames of Passion

It was a night like no other night
And it came out of nowhere
Our eyes locked on each other
And started the flames of passion

We move across the dance floor
And we know what we wanted
We wanted each other so badly
But still we were hesitant

The heat of bodies seems to ignite
As we embrace to dance
It was not love, and it was not lust
It was only the flames of passion

As the music plays
We can feel our hearts beating outside our chest
The raw essence of our perfume
The aroma now covers her dress

Our lips were quivering to touch
As our cheeks blushes with hunger
Our needs were like knives slowly
Cutting away at our resilience

We were burning,
Burning up each other control
Until the heat becomes too hot 
As we lead ourselves to the parking lot

Her touch was so soft and tender.
But her whisper was full of desire
As our lips gasp in sweet surrender
As the flames of our passion fuels the fire

No words were said or spoken between us
No promises were made, to be kept
No lies of flirting being told tonight
No looking back and no afters regrets

The longing to stay in each other arms
Was there, but we had such precious little time
We were like the rain with thunder and lightening
Being lonely tonight was our only crime

Shivers in magnitudes of earthquakes
Rumbles through our veins
Exploding like a tornado
Trembling like flowers in the wind

Descending waterfalls
Catching our breaths
Coming back to earth
Heat burning in our soul

Walking away after
With nothing to say
A longing for more
Neither of us wanting to say
 
Tomorrow maybe bringing sorrow
Or a brief guilt or moment of shame
With the memory of this one night in our lives
When we release the flames of  passion's
Categories: afters, longing, lust, sensual, sexy,
Form: Light Verse

Two Bee Or Two Bee

Two bee or not two bee
swarming bout me bed
I swear for sure I swatted one
I sure hope she is dead

Oh no she must have gotten me
just below my ear
the swelling it is rising
and I don't think I can hear

I run right to the bathroom
into the medicine chest
grabbed my trusty epipen 
and stab that little pest

Oh wait did I get that wrong
was that shot supposed to bee for me
i don't know what I'm doing
and now I can barely even see

The bee is still a buzzing
louder than before
it seems he is getting closer
I run out and shut the door

Tripped in a pile of laundry
fell flat upon my face
blood has started to trickle
and my head is in a daze

Oh why didn't I close that window
for sure by now I'd be fast asleep
dreaming of happily ever afters
and not lying here in this heap
© Tim Smith  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: afters, nonsense,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Boom Like a Tenor

Let me keep day dreaming
for I do my best thinking
when I'm not blinking
Like a child's toy my thoughts are spinning 
I float amongst the Stars
Big Dipper drinking
even when it feels like I'm sinking
Other worlds are my dominion
I'm not tethered to ego or opinion
I let a single star lead me to a billion
Some might think I'm nuts
Perhaps I'm Brazilian

I think about never
Until it bleeds into forever
Small things are my biggest treasure
I know and feel Gods pleasure
Traveling distances too far to measure
Although I work hard I'm a man of leisure
I can be and talk to anyone
today tomorrow or whenever
be rich poor or a pensioner
I can sing like an angel 
Or boom like a Tenor
That's right
there's benefits to being a pretender
top of the heap bottom ender
I'll receive the signals
You be the sender
in fantasy lands I'm a dweller

Watch as my pupils increase in size
You see I carry my thoughts in my eyes
absorbing silly until I locate the wise
I detect the truth in people's lies
Within the shouts I hear whispers 
I recognize when someone tries
Who cares if they're not one of the girls or guys
Traveling alone won't prevent them from reaching new highs
Happily ever afters don't end with goodbyes
Forget fretting the music never stops
no one truly ever dies
Watch how a bird flys
On an unseen current each spirit will rise
no logic applies 
Be the me in "Me oh my"
not afraid to ask why
hear the music in a sigh
Join me in a day dream
There's room in my sky
Stretch your arms into wings
after all you too were made to fly
Categories: afters, dream, introspection, symbolism,
Form: Rhyme

I Love You But

I love you but I need to let you go
You are poison to my heart and death to me soul
You fill me with promises of happy ever afters
In reality they're words of ever ending disasters
You say you love me and I'm your soul-mate
You told me when we met it was nothing but fate
You've proven yourself to be nothing more than a liar
My love for you is no longer a burning desire
I love you but I need to let you go
I feel all alone like a one man show
I've degraded myself putting up with your lies
How can I be in love when it's you I despise
You've stolen so much, mainly my heart
It's hard to walk away, it's hard to depart
I love you but I need to let you go
Our time has come to an end I want you to know
You've hurt me so many times and put me through hell
You keep saying you love me, but I can't tell
I've cried my last tear for you tonight
There's nothing you cam say that will ever make it right
Though I am broken and my heart may heal slow
I love you, but I need to let you go..
Categories: afters, cry, goodbye, heartbroken, i
Form: Rhyme

My Weeping Violin

I would always cry to his tune
Slowly i saw my life before my eyes
How could one life in such world, all but love
My soul shivers at the thought in which the light will forever fade from me
Still, my heart wonders of a beautiful scene where love is all
I miss you so much sometimes it hurts
These tears fall without an end, it's so hard to hide the pain
To smile as if nothing is wrong, i hate this life i pretend
Death awaits us all, still i believe some to be gone while still here
Is not the taste of life a cruel and bitter one
Where has the happily ever afters gone?
Today is ugly, love is rare, yet hate is all around
Am i the only one that sees this, it's hard to swallow
I will forever cry, tomorrow isn't promised and neither is happiness
All we truly have is faith, and in faith lays hope
Yet we all wonder how our hearts are touched by a weeping violin
Categories: afters, cry,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Love

Even though you may not be looking, always believe that love is cooking.Quote - Poet’s own
Bake love each day the whole of your life
Mixed with fervour and all kinds of spice
Everything you've ever hungered for
Hopes, dreams, wishes and all you adore.

Stir in measureless ardent passion 
Sprinkle on top some sweet compassion 
Simmer slowly on the lowest heat
‘Til your heartbeats are on the increase.

Then turn the temperature way up
Whilst drinking wine from the loving cup
Prepare the aura ready to eat
Soft music, dim lights during the feast.

Tempt palates with a special delight
Of afters that please the appetite
Just as we need food so we may live
We’re all in need of love to exist.

I hope you will test my recipe 
It truly has done wonders for me.
Categories: afters, analogy, love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member We as Characters of Narratives

Each of us is born the main persona
in the narrative of his or her own life.
Through ever-changing atmosphere, 
supporting characters and diversity of settings, 
we help to mold the rising action of our own tale.
A great variety of characters abound in our stories.
Some of them, bright pennies tossed into existence,
spin wildly on exploits which make for 
the most gripping of preliminary chapters.
However, their denouement is hard to guess.
Others, silver dollar, sparkle too,
but in a much less compromising way.
I suppose most of us could fit into that category.
Giddily we dance through early life’s events.
Then on and on we go, unraveling our plot,
striving always for happily-ever-afters.

A smaller group, Olympian, glide like skaters
on ice. Not only blessed, they are also driven.
Their chronicles inspire us; they are gold!
Others, although colorful, when held up to the light,
they are shown as counterfeit, the perpetrators of pure fiction.
A few, by fate and nature not so blessed, may court insanity,
or at the very least, create confusion 
with their crises that seem to come unceasingly
yet often fail to find resolution. 
Possibly, if given a good polishing,
 they could be diamonds in the rough!

There are others who are the spawn of a society gone wrong.
They stalk our paths, as unfeeling as assassins.
The pages from their lives can horrify.
However, those who wield great power
are also often morally corrupt, and 
if their stories live on, it’s in infamy only.
These types of souls are nothing but 
cold, hard cash, and paper burns or crumbles
in the end.

A final group is joyless.
Given something . . . giving nothing back,
they hoard the talents God gifted them.
They wonder woefully why no one wants
to open their books to even read
the parts that once had held some promise.
For them it would be better to have been
a rusting copper penny in dread of its own conclusion
than even an evil-doer whose story titillates
and at least gets read.
Categories: afters, life, metaphor,
Form: Prose Poetry

Puddings

Jam roly poly, treacle sponge
And sticky toffee pudding head the top of my list
But apple pie, rhubarb crumble
Or a decent cheesecake are hard to resist

Banana splits, eclairs or brownies
Dumplings, nougat, cheese board or mousse
Crème brûlée.  Fruit cocktail.  Yoghurt
Serve it up and set me loose!
 
Rice pudding, Christmas pudding
Let me say it loud and clear
Summer pudding, Eve's pudding
Figgy pudding - bring it here

Cottage pudding, Diplomat pudding
Pancakes served throughout the year
Plum pudding, mango pudding
Put it on a plate and cheer

Hasty pudding, Saxon pudding
Vanilla pudding, chocolate pud
Yorkshire pudding filled with treacle
Make winter evenings warm and good

Sussex Pond pudding, sweet biscotti
Semolina (if that counts?!)
Panna cotta, profiteroles
Gâteaux.  Meringues in any amount

I guess spotted dick is a bit of a worry
But to bread and butter pudding, I say "bring it on!"
I could plan on a flan, or a lardy cake
Or butter with glee my scone or scon'

Mince pies, cobblers, baklavas, strudels
Loaves and pastries - all tell a story
Even blancmange has a heritage
To match or beat our knickerbocker glory

There's fruit tarts, jam tarts, custard tarts, egg tarts
Milk tarts, cheese tarts, butter tarts too
Tarts from Manchester, Liverpool and Bakewell
French tarts, Jamaican tarts - to name but a few

Buns from Chelsea, cakes from Eccles
Wafers and muffins from all over the place
Doughnuts filled with jam or chocolate
Made to squirt on your shoulder or face

Strawberries & Cream, Eton Mess
Artic rolls and brandy snaps
Trifles should always be trifled with
If laced with sherry - it's a perfect nightcap

Sorbets leave the palate tingling
Fritters fritter your cares away
Waffles and crêpes warm the spirit
And sundaes are perfect for every day

So, whatever we may call them -
Be it puddings, sweets, desserts or afters
They taste best when shared with company
Served with a spoon, a smile and laughter
Categories: afters, food,
Form: List

Acts To Zenith

Acts of contrition, on knees if I recount
Beatitudes, eight, sermon on the mount
Charity given, is blessings received
Dalai Lama, a Buddhist deity
Ecumenism, it understands and unites
Fascism erodes individual rights
Gaia, Greek goddess of our mother earth
Heresy, one's belief, another's mirth
Idolatry, the worship of false gods
Jehovahs Witnesses, the sidewalks they trod
Kama, Hindu god of the erotic
Lex talionis, is somewhat exotic
Mary, Christmas holds that she was a virgin
Naturalism, this belief seems to burgeon
Orthodoxy, keeping with old traditions
Penance, requires sin and admissions
Quaker, informal for Society of Friends
Ramadan, are you relieved when it ends?
Sabbath, is it Saturday or the day after?
Talismans, sometimes, subject of laughter
Universalism, bring us together?
Values the thought of happy ever afters
Whatever your dogma, does it really matter?
X amine your heart, reject idle chatter
You should maybe contact your Spirit Guides
Zenith of acceptance with us resides



beautiful photo of the church taken by Jackie on Instagram @jacci_eo
Categories: afters, faith, freedom, gospel, poetry,
Form: Abecedarian
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