She sings in soft tones,
her magic exists beyond the obvious.
Listen closely to her wanting,
She is wrapped in a trancendent light.
chasing white rabbits.
Grasping for the infinite,
with delicate hands.
Dances within her luminosity.
Flying on yesterday's wings,
carrying smiles that are meant for tommorow.
Witness her as she waits to exhale.
A daisy chain,
tied around her wrist.
A future promise to be kept.
For within her spirit,
exists a burning passion!
She waits for one who is worthy,
of her consuming flame
Although she is unaware,
hers is a temporary sadness.
Happiness flirts at the edge of her dreaming,
waiting for an open window.
His shadow hidden behind frosted glass.
Shades of green,
turn brilliant yellow!
Buttercups dance around her feet.
Her laughter floats across the meadow,
as happiness runs to her open arms.
Together they skip, towards her apple tree.
For hers is a faith that trancends the temple.
Her spirit sought and found salvation.
He had been with her all along,
I can see it in her smile.
The rain has passed and sunshine now resides in her eyes!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
along an old stone footpath
children are laughing
Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2013
Crazy wind whispers
Into the ears of ‘champa’
A light scented Indian flower
Trees are full of them now
Your love in each and every bough
The breeze is cool
Because it is spring
Because it is south wind
Because everywhere is hue
Because it is warm with you
Blue hills and green plains
My room at sixes and sevens
Red bellied wood peckers drumming
Rhythm in feet nimble
Your twinkling eyes with dimple
Our roads are tremendously red
Ashok Palash and Gulmohar
They call it flame-of-the-forest
Love in red supreme
With you in extravagant dream
Books in eloquently colorful blurb
Beauty steps in every curve
Invitation in every nerve
The spring below and spring above
Your healing love
Goes away alas the days
Of dance in soul in warm sun rays
Goes away your ocean gaze
Life in a twilight haze
Your beautiful craze
Ah if I could have turned the clock
Holding your hand in a Gulmohar walk
Only our hands and feet would talk
Around the clock arm in arm
In your beauty and charm
Alas that is not to be a thing
Our time is as short as the spring
March 18, 2016
Butea Monosperma or Palash is a species of Butea native to tropical and sub-tropical parts of India and Asia.
Saraca asoca ( the ashoka tree, literally ‘sorrowless’), belongs to the Caesalpinioideae subfamily of legume family, of Indian sub continent.
Gulmohar or Delonix Regia, grown in many tropical parts of the world, called FLAMBOYANT in English, is a striking sight for its vivid red/vermilion/orange/yellow flowers and bright green foliage...Wikipedia
Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2016
Springtime is a chance to start your life anew,
Dust off your pride and change your attitude.
Bring forth the hidden treasures, of your heart,
Don’t worry about the past that tore you apart.
Let the fresh air cleanse your soul, body and mind,
Release the inhibitions that have kept you blind.
Love yourself, for who you are and what you can do,
Never worry about what others think, it all about you.
Embrace the earth elements and the comfort they bring,
Sit back, relax, and enjoy the results, of your spring cleaning.
Written : © 3/21/16
Submitted for: Second Chance #3
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
Copyright © Sarita Milliner | Year Posted 2016
white ribbons ascending upward,
becoming breath of blue sky.
shadows of angels shooting arrows
into the proprietor of daily peril.
silhouettes of songs circumnavigation
the moat around everyone's heart.
the areola around the moon's sphere,
and April's evaporation from morning rain.
the lattice of the earth encompassing
and collecting the goodness of all.
Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2016
Adios you soggy segue
nature’s mud pie maker
roof top drummer
cool breathed friend
easing the ice from its depths
cajoling the worms
with the Robins.
Bon Voyage old vagabond
spring’s pheromonal scent
arousing dormant need.
fading water colors
dashes of Jonquil yellow
sprayed among Bluebonnets
“Parting is a sweet sorrow”*
eased in May’s sweet greens
long evenings warmth
celebrating such splendid
John G. Lawless
*My acknowledgement to Shakespeare
Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2017
While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012
People make me smile the way
their eyes shine when they talk
about something they love
when they feed me food. Or tell
me how much they love me
when I look into someone's
eyes and see it I see that look
in their eyes I see love in them
When I see someone laugh and
have fun in what they do
The way they cry for there lost
When they give me a smile and
tell me how beautiful I am
People are beautiful well some
are and I wish someday I can
find someone who will look at
me and say "you have that look
in your eye" what look?
I want to find someone so
beautiful in the inside I can't
stay away they amaze me with
what they say an do how they
will dance in the rain and know
every detail about me
Will bring me Starbucks on a
rainy day and just talk about
I want someone beautiful
Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013
The fire pit has been made
The kindling has been laid
The match was put to the dry, dry wood
And the flames began to play
The fire now is burning bright
The coffee pot is on
It is the way to start the day
On this cloudy, misty morn
The quiet of the darkened night
Flowed back thru greyish mounds
The moon was playing hide and seek
With drifting wispy clouds
A shadow blanketed the camp again
Closing out the morning light
The breeze then chased a leaf down hill
Like a windblown handmade kite
The icy hued moon was sliding
It soon would leave our sight
The hope for sun should soon come about
From this sharp and frosty night
And from the sky quite unexpectedly
Came rain drops as big as grapes
It pattered through the shroud of trees
A whooshing sound it makes
The raindrops hit the burning logs
With a hissing reptile sound
That caused an apparition of pure-white smoke
To eerily hug the ground
As fast as the rain began to fall
It just as quickly did dismiss
And lanching shafts of sunlight
Replaced the lingering patchy mist
The sleepy woodlands did then awake
To the grandeur of a brand new dawn
And flitting through that peerless sky
The birds began their morning song!
Copyright © George D. Miller | Year Posted 2015
Spring marks the end of winter and start of summer
It is lovely with colorful contrasts
Norway is a long country with a lot of mountains and valleys
Wide variations in climate from south to north and from east to west
Migrant's return, and the first flower is coltsfoot
Both humans and animals awakened by hibernation with new energy
The sun is high, no snow falls and the birds singing
Small downy mouse ears to be leaves on birch tree
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016
Radiant are the words
that painted your existance
Shinning are the details
swept with lyrical rhymes
Brightly sewn were intentions
that bless us day and night
A tapestry of beauty
in heart shapes and designs
A glowing presence expressing love
made of it's own light
Hopes that peddle effortlessly
that never wains or tires
Happy and content
circleing it's beautiful fire
Sparks sparkling words of care
Rainbow colours here and there
Stars that twinkle in the night
small white unageable lights
That lights above the perfect night
Just before the perfect day
I like the way
you decorated my heart
I really can't discribe
this kind of art
Colours are made to
dazzle the eyes
But what you've given
also pleases the blind
Rhyme and rythem
do not account for the deaf
But lives feel those
I stand in awe
of your beautiful delights
Close my eyes
and say good night
Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2013
Warm rains, shaken from winters' pelt
pelt earth into reform below.
Below new soil, as spring is felt,
felt springs uncoil to melt the snow.
Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015
today's April fool
known to all needs to have tool
ooh! advance cheek's smile
Inspired by: JAN ALLISON
Copyright © BL DEVNATH | Year Posted 2015
If we have butted heads and you're feeling run over
If the words that I speak send you running for cover
If my swift, wicked comebacks can sting like none other
Know, as much as I fight, deep inside I'm a lover
I'll embrace the STRENGTHS and fight the WEAKNESS
But I'm not sure I'll ever be the type for MEEKNESS
Born the year of the SHEEP under the sign of the RAM
You can hate me or love me, but I who I AM
Copyright © Donna Golden | Year Posted 2013
In the center of a fresh pageant,
she throttles like a mythical woman
quick to dance among open flowers,
twirling like a hundred stars
with curves round and breasts oyster pink
as the trees, ovules, candles in her eyes
open the fingertips of near April.
Wild tempo vibrates on wispy tunes,
until eyes of fire melt nightfall's brew...
for primal and young is this Aries goddess
holding a voile skirt that lifts
into a pirouette while the moon
hangs like a violin... eager to wing
this lady's reggae jigs
drifting on brocade of her springtime arms:
And if every detail of lace in a gown
can be sewn in the light touching her flesh ,
this she shall bring too... this near April debut.
Open Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2017
On Manhattan's West Side...
You descend ancient stairs
You've crossed the Drive
River Side Drive
Expect to float on air of beauty.
Cherry blossoms pink won't wink
They'll courtesy as you walk, jog, bike
Their fragrance light and airy
Suffuse each path paved smooth
Sloped path leads to arched cemented canopy
As ancient as view
The Hudson embraces you
A garden path with bright flowers
Will warm your heart
The young, the old, those in between
They live for such scenes
Sky, trees, mound overlooking New Jersey
The Hudson River is where I met my honey.
Copyright © Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis | Year Posted 2015
three years ago today
i still regret you went away
though tears have dried
and crying stoped
you seemed to live within each drop
the words i use everyday
three years ago from today
i cry for you this very way
today's no different from anyday
i mintioned you on many days
and touch the things with death
i wish the wish i always have
to be with you as i once had
i haunt the places you use to be
how i got there is a mystery to me
not by my power but maybe Gods
these three years have been real hard
beggining with you my greatest loss
what could i gain that you it cost
today is the day i could go mad
and tell them all that i was sad
today a day to destroy myself
but concentrate on something else
today's a day for me to use
to show the world my bitter blues
but prove a fool for love sake
as if three years it did'nt take
Copyright © John Loving III | Year Posted 2013
The Glass Eye
My window is an eye on the morning stretch.
Raspy green grasses tangle up in the vetch.
A mama quail runs down the soft red clay path.
Her fat round babies edged to the drain for a bath.
I see the hill slope up in poppy and craggy oak.
One lone gray cloud trails on cobalt blue, like smoke.
The sounds of a barn owl are near but it hides,
And only my window can find where it presides.
Then finally, the children dance by on to school.
The window knows innocence here in the rural.
A giggle, a shout, dropping books as they race,
The bus winks lights, on the knoll, in its place.
My window blinks back with it's stare of the hill;
Its shimmer reflects our morning time drill.
The eyelash curtains brush back with the breeze,
I turn to my paper, and coffee, and do as I please.
By Edlynn Nau
© April 20, 2016
Copyright © Edlynn Nau | Year Posted 2016
They say it all makes sense now.
All these medical oddities I've experienced at such a young age.
My doctor insists that things have to make sense.
He says it's his job, to find the reason.
I baffle him with my hair loss and insomnia.
My anxiety and depression.
My dermatillomania and body pain.
He says I don't make sense.
I can't help but agree.
Lately body aches have become a part of my everyday life.
I've forgotten what living feels like without aching somewhere.
Constant fatigue and nerve tingling also decided to crash the party.
I used to say that it felt like my mind was fighting against me.
Loneliness, anxiety and lack of sleep made functioning hard.
I wondered what I did to deserve this hell that no one else could see.
My own private cell.
This was the year that my hair started to fall out in patches.
I added it to the list of maladies.
I've come to discover that my suffering makes others uncomfortable.
My friends avoid the bags under my eyes and the ice packs placed over my body.
The winces of pain seems to force them to avert their eyes.
They don't know how to respond to so much medical issues bound into one body.
Especially a body so young.
The most discomfort they've experienced is in their young lives is a few stray injuries, all bound to a fun experience.
I sometimes wish I could have such shallow knowledge in the ways of pain as them.
I don't blame them for their awkwardness around me.
We talked to others.
Many people think I have either fibromyalgia or lupus.
Every symptom I have is an exact copy of those filed under fibromyalgia.
Except for the hair loss.
That would just be another fun quirk I get to have.
My doctor is happy.
He says things finally have aligned themselves.
It's a puzzle to him, nothing more.
Once I get diagnosed in April he will have solved it.
I've become more depressed.
If it truly is fibromyalgia, I will have this for the rest of my life.
Constant pain and malaise are not placed on my agenda.
My mom says I need to adapt and keep moving.
Few have taken into account my worries.
What will life be like for me?
A 15 year old who suffers from chronic pain and lives life with her ice packs and anxiety in tow.
How will I perform my beloved sports, when I can barely drag myself out of bed each morning?
My future is directed by fear of the unknown.
I don't quite know what to do with myself anymore.
All of the art I love creating causes me unbearable pain.
I hope I'll be okay, one day.
Copyright © Hailey Coraggioso | Year Posted 2016
I was in the car,
swallowed up by pouring rain,
and all Hail broke loose.
Copyright © Jackson LaBaugh | Year Posted 2016
He shivers as he steps on the porch,
The sharp icy air gives a certain scorch.
As he steps out from the arbors protection,
out to where there is no affection.
A month or so later,
the boy feels oh so much greater.
The sun shining down,
where there is no such thing as a frown.
But now there is a long process to get from season to season,
and you get tired of Winter's cold and sharp treason.
So as we walk through the steps, enjoy the end of Winter's blast,
just as you did when it began and you said "At last!"
As Winter comes joy fills the world,
as snowballs get thrown and hurled.
The cheer, the bliss begins with a snow,
however you come to remember and know,
that Winter lugs on and on until Spring.
Though not very easy,
we must try to enjoy the breezy and sneezy.
So as the snow melts into the dirt underneath,
people will put away festive décor, trees, and a wreath.
People then change from heavy bundles of clothes,
and on to short sleeves is where the style arose.
The used-to-be snowflakes turn now to dandelion seeds,
flying to and fro, and landing where it needs.
A pleasing fragrant of Honeysuckle, Jasmine,
awhile bumble bees come flying, trying to get in.
Low and behold Spring is in,
while once a year it begins again.
Copyright © savannah feeler | Year Posted 2015
Your love song lapsed into ancient French that April day.
I only understood the words of spring and heartsore
lapsed. Only love and heartsore, I understood your ancient
words of the spring-day song into that French April.
You fabricate my pauses into repetition, silence speaks
of ages strung to rhyme in love’s difficult service
you strung into pauses in service to ages. Fabricate of
love’s repetition, rhyme speaks my difficult silence.
We practice tedium of vows till language breaks apart.
As if art should aim at science, rigorous, quantitative,
rigorous language breaks tedium. Science vows a part of
quantitative practice till we should aim “as if” at art.
Till we lapsed into language. As your ancient ages only
fabricate quantitative French strung to that difficult
practice, science speaks of tedium and understood rhyme.
The spring in service of love’s rigorous vows. April
pauses, heartsore. You and I, apart. If love should aim
my words at day, repetition breaks into silence of song.
Copyright © Taylor Graham | Year Posted 2006
To Never Breathe Again
No breeze in the night-time
The winter weather goes
The heat runs out of sunshine
Spring is passing a different change
The last fresh air we use
The world's gone strange
The weather's confused
No autumn leaves to rearrange
No whispers in the wind
The air is dry
No pouring in the rain
The storm does not cry
No loudness in thunder
The lightning no longer strikes high
No one then wonders
The answer is why?
The water is not splashing
No clouds in the sky
The weather's not passing
Can the weather just die?
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010
Oh, April, thou art fickle;
We know why April Fools
Belongs to you.
Tornadic surprises, and yet
While our feet are getting wet;
Colors burst into natural umbrellas.
Oh, April, thou art fickle;
You stand in front of Winter man,
And dare his sneaky return plan.
We’ll take your interim joy between
‘Til May’s maturity of spring
Weds itself to summer.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2016
Don't let hate consume you
it will eat you alive,
make you hateful and bitter
your life will take a nosedive.
You'll grow old much faster
way before your time,
let the love you feel in your heart
be set free, let it shine.
It's hard not to hold a grudge
especially if your heart's been hurt,
let God deal with those persons
think of them as dirt.
Just walk away from them
turn the other cheek,
what goes around, comes around
be yourself, mild and meek.
It's okay to feel angry
you have every right,
don't let hate consume you
never let it keep you awake at night.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
God will punish those in the end, that decided to make your life so hurtful and horrible, that you just can't take it anymore. Don't sink to their level. You are much better than they are.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones | Year Posted 2016