Best Allay Poems


When I Stop and Pray

When the storm clouds boil around me, 
And the lightning splits the sky--. 
When the howling wind assails me,
And life's sea is rolling high--
When my heart is filled with terror,
And my fears, I can't allay--
Then I find sweet peace and comfort, 
When I simply stop and pray.

When the things of life confound me,
And my faith is ebbing low--
When my trusted friends betray me,
And my heart is aching so--
When the night seems black and endless,
And I long for light of day--
Then I find a silver dawning,
When I simply stop and pray.

There are things beyond the heavens
I can't begin to understand,
But I know that God is living,
And I know He holds my hand.
Yes, I know He watches o'er me
All the night and all the day--
And He's always there to hear me
When I simply stop and pray.
Categories: allay, devotion, faith, inspirational, life,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member The Other Side of Winter

(A Villanelle)

The winter’s dismal path is long and gray,
a never-ending march of cheerless dark
with skies whose colors bleach in dull array

where forest scene gives one a true display
and leafless limbs provide a raptors' park.
The winter’s dismal path is long and gray,

and through the open grove a new ballet
of life and death beneath the brittle bark
and skies whose colors bleach in dull array.

A wind unites with rain while leaves decay;
each limb begins to dance a graceful arc
in winter’s dismal path so long and gray

till snow appears and hides the hunter's prey.
New scenes occur of softer landscape mark,
tame skies whose colors bleach in dull array.

Resplendent white now blankets to allay
our thirst for beauty with a lustrous lark.
The winter's dismal path is long and gray,
with skies whose colors bleach in dull array.
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: allay, beauty, snow, winter,
Form: Villanelle

Premium Member History Rising From the Sea

Treasure from the sea
Golden doubloon
Sixteenth Century artifact
By ancestors hewn

Earth’s history lays buried
Beneath five oceans
As undersea tremors
Create violent commotions

Freeing from Spanish galleons
Precious metals, gemstones
To greet early beachcombers
History on loan

Memories of bygone ages
Scattered on the sand
Finally kissed by sun again
While in a searcher’s hand

I pursue this morning trek
With Atlantis on my mind
Seeking proof at last
In treasures I might find

When ancient civilizations
Seem to disappear
Comb the beach, you might find
The evidence is here

For like a phoenix rising
New finds appear each day
And I’ll not stop searching
Till doubts I can allay
Categories: allay, history,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Forlorn Hope

Sitting on the cusp of dusk and evening
Placidly he ruminates where life has been 
When she still believed in vibrant springs
And exulted dawning of purple mornings
Echoing exuberance of seasons’ calling
Fragile, yet colorful, as autumnal leaves
Delicate, aesthetic, as snowflakes falling--
Until she chose to surrender her dreams.

Oh! how fervently she cherished streams
Zigzagging ebulliently on their property
Digging lanes through prairies dark green,
Giggling, rushing, curving, on life-journey,
Pointing zealously, how to redirect destiny
Hosting daydreams of daffodils, milkweeds,
And tranquil bliss edifying lotus sanctuary.

Pity, neither did he feel her zestful appeal,
Nor could he allay those spaces left empty--
Between life as it is, and life that could be--
Saddled by incongruence defying harmony.

Lonesome he wailed tracing her footprints:
Cheered birds singing, doted stars twinkling,
Breathed-in her air scented with jasmines,
Buzzed in moth-passions of nocturnal winds,
Gazed deep woods where moon was rising,
And found her there, but not her meaning.

Yet, she came by, reminiscing through time,
Staying long enough, scanning the night skies--
But much as she tried, the Venus didn’t smile,
Alas! when she left, that was final goodbye.

April 28, 2021
Poem of the day on April 29, 2021 
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Forlorn Hope
Categories: allay, lost love, moving on,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Beyond the Veil

A clever sphere through midnight's shadow rolls,
its course through clouds, like ships through hidden shoals
and drifting hearts out searching for their souls.
A game of hide-and-seek - through forest members peek.
A wishful lost mystique - to kiss a lover's cheek.
Like promises, you glow then disappear, 
then gone, until you glisten in a tear -
too late to dry a page where ink-stains smear. 
So, even through the day - in sunlit visage stay,
the brightness can't allay - a scentless heart's bouquet.
Your crescent grin is burned upon my soul,
yet, I cannot pretend to be unique;
to find clandestine countenance appear,
and capture daydream's wishes where they play.
Categories: allay, moon,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Flute

"Play the flute of felicity! You, yourself, are the melody."
                                   ~ Rumi

Play the flute of felicity
Convey the melody of joy
Sway with the rhythm of gaiety
Allay all fears, all doubts destroy

Vibrate the air with your tempo
Create the beat for your flute song
Relate your passion with gusto
Captivate them with cadence strong

Replay this magical moment
Display your finesse that lingers
Portray your symphony intent
Slay them with fast moving fingers

Generate a heart-tugging tune 
Indicate your mirth through the flute
Fascinate the crowd with your boon
Radiate ecstasy acute



Form: Double Lento

15th February 2023


For Constance La France's "Writing Challenge - F words" contest
Categories: allay, music,
Form: Lento


Self Inflicted Blues

This day I grow tired
and so incredibly weary.
My heart holds only dreams
of a Life unfullfilled
A Life not nurtured,
yet barely a glimmer
of the spirit that once was.

I do have memories of some things good 
-not all bad,
But the fear that I am alone
is Like a fingerprint on my Life.

Shadowing, waiting to pounce,
always there, unshakeable.

It's the mirrors that hold me accountable
to my actions.
Proof positive that where ever I go
there I am,
Naked, vulnerable, and yes
still alone.

As I try to allay this fear, 
one Lonely and painful pluck at a time,
It becomes crystal clear, that I alone
am damaging my soul to the very core
with each stroke of my hand.

I steal one Last Look in the mirror
and know that I alone
have self inflicted these blues
Leaves me to ponder one question:

Will I ever allow myself the strength and grace
it will surely take to heal my scarred soul?                        
                                                      
  



This poem was written in hopes of begining the healing process for my self. I 
have a disease called trichiotillamania. It is an obsessive and manic urge to pull 
one's own hair until baldness occurs. I'm a 48 year old woman, married(with kids 
& grand kids)and have been doing this since the age of 5. It coincided with the 
begining of my stepfather raping and torturing me which lasted until the age of 
thirteen. This disease has me trapped and is NEVER letting me go. There are 
two inflictions in regards to my hair pulling in this poem, one must know about 
my disease in order to understand this poem.
Categories: allay, hope, life, me, age,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member April Fawn

Longing in lowly light of longer days
by which a summer wilts paternal dreams
and browns the loitered heaves of yellow spring:

the budding void that stamps an empty swing
seen swaying golden locks ungated beams
my own Begotten streamed in greener dawn
where fussy forums for an April fawn

allay no muttered march on mother’s May.

Persistent blades unsheathe the sprawling grass
beneath the blue release of silver dew -
an inch overgrown, as inch shrouded cool
billows: arisen reeds from dizzied drool
showing flashes of reincarnation
cured by the rose (or purple carnation)

4/4/17
Categories: allay, depression, father daughter,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Whispers of the Moonlight Dance

Written: July 06, 2023
______________________________________________________________

In midnight darkness, a smart spherical roll
Its treks into clouds as ships over hidden shoals.
Wandering hearts strive for their final day.
Hide-and-seek with woodland dwellers play. 

To embrace a lover's chin, a lack of mystery
You sparkle and vanish as promises blistery.
Then depart until your eyes tear up.
Ink-splattered sheets won't dry in the cup.

So, any time of the day, retain a sunny face.
A scentless heart's scent is spared by grace.
Your curved grin is burned into my soul.
I cannot claim uniqueness or be whole.

So as to achieve discover a covert bearing.
And seize the place of daydreaming.
Whisperings of the moonlight dance
Reverberate over the vast, dark glance.
 
In the depths of night, secrets unfold.
As the clever sphere of silver and gold
Through midnight shadow, it rolls and glides.
Guided by unseen hands, it silently abides.

Such ships through hidden shoals, navigates,
Through the vast unknown, it patiently waits.
They crave a love that is pure and true.
A link that will bestow spirits to renew.

In a game of hide-and-seek, the moon does play,
As forest members peek in the moonlight sway.
They watch as it dances, casting its spell.
Enchanting all who dare to dwell.

A wishful lost mystique, in the moon's embrace,
Longing for a touch, a lover's grace.
But the moon is elusive, a fleeting dream.
Such as promises that vanish, it seems.

It glows and then disappears from sight.
Leaving behind a tear, glistening in the night.
Too late to dry a page where ink stains smear,
The moon's presence lingers, a memory so dear.

Even in the daylight, its beauty remains.
A reminder of the love that forever sustains
But the brightness of the sun cannot allay
The ache in a heart that's scentless in decay
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: allay, analogy, appreciation, beautiful, crush,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Fighter

As beams through blinds half-open softly play
on mottled skin, and helpless, she depends
on doctors and on nurses, none allay
her growing agony that never ends.
 
Her dread is looming larger. She can’t rest!
She clings to life and ponders soberly
the reasons for and answers to this test.
There has to be some recourse she can’t see
beyond what they’ve endeavored yet to do!
What lesson has she not already learned
with all the many hardships she’s gone through?

She prays to have this last page left unturned,
but then that page is lifted, for that night
a breeze blows in  -  Her soul to God takes flight.
Categories: allay, death, heaven,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Of Wizards and Wands

I've been walking down this road alone
  Searching for a way to get back home
    but each brick releases pensive memories
      until they've blurred in a shade of monochrome
      
         Maybe I was a coward for deciding to leave
      Trepidation became fear so I walked away
   but some say it took the courage of a lion
to leave him standing in the door that day

  If I'd been bastioned in an armored suit of tin
     my tears would have encrusted me in rust
        To a heart that can't stop crying over lost love
            it's too daunting a task to believe again in trust
      
         How foolish I was, to rely upon a naive heart
     for allowing me to drown in a deluge of rain
  There's no hiding beneath a haystack of straw
It was inane to let my heart overrule my brain
      
   No wizard's words spoken from behind a curtain
      will guide me since love came disguised as a thief
         No magic wand waved will help me find my way
             Only time has the power to allay such grief
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: allay, journey,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sos

SOS


Sixty seems so old
Oland was a time long ago
Sweden still sleeps in my dreams

So young so sweet
Old dreams run in retreat
Songs like lovers never last

Vanished love, island breezes
Vanquished lovers, sins drown, nothing pleases

Gone is the desire
Gardens die inside of Swedish winds
Gentle thoughts tossed into trysts seas

Tales of lore from distance shore
Another chance, the dice never win
Camisoles and lingerie
Oh my love, you captivated me
Maidens I would always toss to the sea

Frost could not kill the call of drummers doom

Another song, another story of a lovers end
Beware the maiden, ships sailors will tell 
Breasts heave in sadness of autumn leaves
Allay my fears with illusions trumpets

Death dances, life runs to another day
Quebec was the shores of Swedish fantasies

Winter winds brought things to an end
Taking love could not prosper, when love won’t bend
Inside the pain, doomed us the broken hearted
Another day, another dream


Knowing love was so departed
	Memories wrapped and folded in the drawer
Knowing death was welcome and so regarded
	Youth no longer dances on this shore


Solitude was the only game in town
Obituary would be my fame thus drowned
Smiles forgotten, my love for her never waned



Notes: Due to some confusion, I changed the last verse and fixed a few things!
The suicide was mine, but only poetically! :)
Categories: allay, beauty, introspection, music, solitude,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Lovers On a Rainy Day

Out on the porch for a little recess
From life's daily chores, listen to raindrops
Pitter-patter, musical sounds request
From gentle breeze, which stirs windchimes non-stop
Nature's orchestra plays as in hammock relaxed lay
A novel to read or just nap away
Afternoon quietly, what more pleasure
Maybe do something risque
Meet with lover, love away rainy day
In deep caresses our love we'll measure

The flame will burn higher as our desire
Rises with each kiss and loving caress
As the rain's rhythm sets mood, love's red fire
Glows as love to each other we confess
Romancing to rain's music dance and sway
Raindrops, roses, love's desire only glows
Lover so glad you could be companion to
Maybe do something risque
As on the love seat, inflamed we repose
Not needing love potion our love to renew

Lover so glad that I met you today
Out on porch listening to rain's rhythm
Stirring music in my soul fears allay
Perfectly matched love's biorhythm
There are now no fears or life's dismay
Love come take me away to higher realm
Come, stay, don't just wait life's rainy day to
Maybe do something risque
Hold, caress, don't wait 'til life overwhelms
Love come stay please don't ever bid adieu

Sponsor:Cyndi MacMillan
Contest: An Ode To Small Comfort On a Rainy Afternoon
Categories: allay, imagination, inspirational, love, music,
Form: Ode

Premium Member The Dogwood

The blood and lapis daylight sets
in ether. How the mind resets
brutality of winter chill
with February's codicil;
what gossamer a dream begets.

I hear the crickets in the dark,
their clicking takes up where the lark
has been. The flagrant marigolds
have huddled into twilight's folds,
on sanguine nightfall to embark.

The eastern zephyrs fall and rise
with rapid movement of my eyes
and echo whispers midnight makes
of blood white trails on moonlit lakes.
In silhouette I recognize

a dogwood, though can only sense
its glowing coral consequence.
The blossoms tell me they comprise
sweet spawn of sun rays in disguise
and capture all my heartbeats hence.

Now honeysuckle is entwined
on crisscrossed pathways of my mind
with jasmine in a potpourri
to conjure shamrock reverie
that leaves the pewter scape behind.

Around the lambent dogwood tree
alone upon that verdant lea
buds can prosper, bees will hum.
As though seduced by opium
I greet a vista I can't see,

at least not quite. I know it's there
and feel the dogwood everywhere,
behind me, flanking left and right,
an omnipresence in the night,
like answers to unconscious prayer.

Now high upon a clovered scarp
the tree is standing clear and sharp.
In silence I see restless blooms
play music that my ear assumes
is chiming dulcet as a harp.

Such Efflorescent star bursts splay
like windmills on a gusty day
that in ebullience do portend
a vibrance that will never end
and all my reticence allay.

In waking to a winter storm
that's February's gelid norm
I long still for my fulgid tree,
resplendence that surrounded me,
but only meet a turbid swarm.

I rise and pull back hermit drapes
to see the torrid flurries traipse,
yet through the chaos can discern
the leafless frame for which I yearn
beyond the window storming scrapes.

The dogwood stands just as before
unclad upon the icy moor
with nascent berries undeterred
as though through humble verse and word
like daylight through an unclosed door.

2/23/18
Strength Thru Adversity
Gregory R. Barden
Categories: allay, dream, imagery, nature, tree,
Form: Quintilla

The Moment of Finality.

A beauty of the finest splendor…captivating
Seizing the rooms attention on the inhale
Now a shrinking shell of her former self
Caught in a chemical coma to ease her pain

Murmuring fate in silences void…foreboding
Her eyes not seeing the milieu’s approach
Those illusory walls protection now ravaged
She stands naked before bereavements eyes

As the nights pass I sit at her bedside…steady
No corollary thought as the clock keeps pace
I allay the fear by a whisper looking for lucidity
While her random gasps for life squeeze within me

Soft regrets for the misery I’ve caused…repentant
Adrift in the words I bellowed in toxic anger
Yearning to drink of the venom washed over you
To share one moment in the clarity of forgiveness

The scent of a spring dawn’s beauty fills the air…mocking
Stroking your hair I stutter out my final goodbye
Ready to be chained to the morose you absolve me
Taking with you my weighted anguish with simple words

Mom opened her eyes one last time and said…I love you too…
Categories: allay, angst, family, forgiveness, loss,
Form: Bio
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