Best Beckon Poems
Going inward
Receiving moments of grace
While time unfolds
Touching your heart with my breath
An expansion
Doorways to enter
Each gift revealed through my willingness
Vulnerability my partner
Coaxing me towards unimagined pleasure and pain
Letting my mind expand
Memories of days
Exploring and discovering
Baiting my first hook
My Father’s deep voice guiding me
Watching his strong hands
Red wigglers in dirt
Alive in a styrofoam cup
We bait our hooks together
Plunge our fishing poles into the pond
A silent communication
Connection shared
Anticipation
Sunlight dancing off the ripples
A moment I carry with me now
Always grateful for my
Depth of consciousness
Inhaling, I travel through time
Naked, I make my way through
Beckoning aqua kissed waters
I look ahead and swim
Allowing sunrays to bathe my body in their warmth
Marbled hues sing out
Bubbles rise
Shadows and sunbeams in a lover’s embrace
I perform a weightless somersault
Smiling in delight as I catch glimpses
Of the watery kingdom encompassing me
Vowing to keep this sacred moment
Alive in my soul forever
From behind a towering coral
You appear
My royal rainbow Parrotfish
Who I have dreamed of
For an eternity
Come to me dear one
Show me your tapestry of glittering scales
Allow me to touch your soft skin
So I may delight in the magic
Of all that you are
Let us glide through the
Nuanced waters of life
Let us experience all the shades
Of dark and light as one
Fill our souls with laughter and love
Let’s ride these undulating tides with kindness
Touching the hearts of others
Joining hands with those in need
Creating an arena
Where all will be heard
Swim with me now
Let’s journey forth
Together my love
4/16/2023
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE no 1208
Poetry Contest
Sponsor:Brian Strand
SECOND PLACE
soft blue skies beckon
for a flight to be taken
I see clearly now
Heidi Sands
6/17/21
where crystals gleam
i want to lie
where the scented lily opens
reveals its stamen
tender as babies breath
as unavoidable as our sun's and moon's provocative union
as desirable as a cooling undertone on a hot humid day
as necessary as the blistering heat
a dream yet to be dreamt
womanhood sings
and i respond in kind
climb beyond frozen minds
where pianos open
radiate warmth
cradle purity
my will nestled in the notes
where crystals gleam
i want to lie
Armand Hamouth
far past eventide
skylights eluding capture
mornings crest draws near
Good morning Soupe.
Let her beckon until her hands come down
I would not huddle there again
Too green with mold her concrete gown
Too easy to come, my pain
Too nervous listening footsteps near
Or the stopping car
Or the door that will no jar
Or the sudden cataract of tear
Justice does not serve well those who feel
Upon the heart the crunch of human heel
Liberty is a statue here, dead of all compassion
The butt of my derision.
Let her tease my hunger with her tongue
Although below her on the rung
Her dress unfluttered in the wind, dies
Beyond excitement in the dusty eyes.
Let me yearn instead on my tropic shore
To love, to laugh, to glee forever. She shall
Beckon me, my eyes are closed to the magical.
Not revealed to asses' or beasts,
Kept from those Flying Angels,
Reserved specially for you,
She leaves me and the soul of man is dead,
Leaving my shores so dry,
The clamour of those dead shells so loud,
My shining chain Armour is now a nothing, maybe cracked wood,
Tears, Gethsamanic tears,
Putting sail WISDOM rowed aways,
You can imagine my shores in summer,
Her absense has left my shores a hot miragious sandy duned desert,
My days have seen plagues, woes and throes,
I am Humbled, More sobered.
In my humility did she remember me,
Then did she give me her loving passion and care,
Among our vows were her hatred for pride,
She consoled me listening to my honest cries,
My wise friend solomon...hmmn!
Please imagine my present state of mind,
I sit in limbo,
My arms akimbo,
Head devoid of stupor,
Only Swirling to her sweet adore,
Do tell me her names at your pace,
Truelly, it was more of Gods grace,
Which the soul of man never disgaraced,
Please my friend do seek her face.
She calls,
She beckons,
Do reckon,
Do heed her call.
The challenges that life instills
Fighting over mounting bills
Somehow though our needs are
met
Faith be strong, nar ye forget
It's not about the perks and
frills
Beckon Roses and daffodils
Separation supports the isms
Fractured like reflected prisms
Multi-colored light distills
Gleaning rainbows from window
sills
United we stand, devide and fall
Change the world, one for all
Human beings have free wills
Love's duet with harmonic trills
To love thyself is presuposed
Freely given not composed
Love nurtures life and hatred
kills
Taking degrades, receiving
fills
From the heart divine blessing
Have your needs met, no guessing
Coincidence! Yea more than nills
Coliding together as fate fullfils
The right place and time is the
here and now
When opportunity strikes, you
must allow
Things to flow freely, as time
instills
At every turn a new choice
refills
Start with truth, understanding
and grace
Spread it throughout our whole
human race
To believe, to have faith requires
no skills
Begin,,, Beckon Roses and
Daffodils
MamaD
A beckon call from twilight
And the moon does rise to
Chase the sun from its
High place.
Fleeing from the presence
Of Luna the sun goes quietly
To its rest.
Now sitting upon the throne
Of the night the moon showers
Earth with its cold yet beautiful
Silver light.
Her shimmering countenance
Captures the mind of those
who Reach out with their
eyes and Rediscover
it's beauty.
But alas a beckon call from
Dawn and the sun does rise
To chase the moon from its
High place and a new day Begins.
Updated 1/14/18, for the Mid Jan. 2018 standard contest
sponsored by: Brian Strand
original date 8/07/17
Autumn colors beckon me
as I follow a spunky squirrel scampering into the woods.
The forest welcomes me as an old friend
that hadn't visited in a long while;
triggering a release of endorphins.
My excursion gets noted by a jaunty woodpecker;
tapping out a distant drum roll as I navigate
through a sea of crisp, crunchy leaves obscuring the trail.
The air feels nippy, fueled by a brisk breeze,
as scarlet, crimson, and cerise rain down from the trees.
A chatty chipmunk scolds me for disturbing its day
as I trespass through its territory, paying it no heed.
And the ground takes on the subtle, spicy scent of earth and decay
while I wander through this picturesque tapestry of color;
woven with gold, amber, yellow, and vermillion threads.
Beauty holds the power to heal the soul;
and Mother Nature is the custodian of beauty.
Off to catch her beauty
where smiles illuminate my dream
sunsets beckon
bleed no more you pretty pen
line your heart with gold
stories skillfully written
but never heard
lay her down
and into beauty blow
lay her down
to places never known
Beckon and Dead Reckon
I hear quaint calls that do beckon;
Determine direction must dead recon,
To find out angle where coming from;
Catch flounder, dolphin and some drum,
And need right equipment for detecting.
Jim Horn
The quagmire of being a listener and a decider at the same time
may take a challenge on how to respond well to certain actions;
visible or invisible that may entail a careful look or understanding
can be a potential force to generate the so-called explanations.
There are choices to make and the roads seem rough and bumpy,
at times there are snow storm, blizzard, sleet, or freezing rain;
with highway crews scrambling to clear the roads and pathways,
and the traffic that snarls and many vehicles that squeeze in to some lanes.
Taken together, as these may symbolize some good and bad times,
the sense of being involved and thrown to a particular lifestyle;
this, however, can provide us a better picture for a total vision,
those problems and preoccupations that normally draw us in.
The language of silence – an invitation that happens within,
its core meaning unearths its significance in decision making
like being in sequim where we can think and reflect well;
as we may be attuned to the source of inspiration.
It’s no easy task when we come to grips with a dilemma,
our whole system gets involved especially in our thinking;
it’s like a movement within, with tension in sequim,
but at least in conjunction with the wisdom of our reason.
Lying and crying
Smiling for dying
A fitting thought through an empty mind
Leaving all of this behind
To move on to a better day
What may be hell, you think and say
Dawn will peek while I'm asleep
But as my midnight comes, I'll shove away.
A silent slumber beckons me
Telling me to fall asleep
While my eyes see the dark
Consuming all the light
A smaller chance to see what's right
Now this thought's resting
In mind so tight
No more chance to be alright
No more chance to win this war that must be won.
So now I'll slumber on my dear
Listen close
Keep open ears
I've been awake
My soul to break
For I've really been asleep for years
To walk the talk over burning hot coal
Tests the mettle of God-bestowed free will
Debate ensues between ego and soul
By hammer and tongs, shaped on the anvil
Hesitation signals we’re not ready
Looking at how to better our morrow
Unable yet to hold love’s flame steady
Self-serving instinct cause of our sorrow
In the playground of life, as we do dance
We begin to look beyond outer form
Every breath we take, offers us a chance
To choose love over strife, in each life storm
It’s high time hermit, that we stand erect
Heeding voice of conscience, our life’s perfect
21-April-2022
Cotton-candy cumulus clouds beckon
Me follow their course ever upward and
Over my limiting horizon to
Vista viewpoints where paths never trod
Stretch ‘cross limitless imagination.
I must go, I am called, to be true
To my immortal soul; Staying safe here
Is to shrivel-shrink, dying day by day.
Please don’t stand by my station shedding tears.
Pack your bags! Say farewell yourself, shackles
Of Sameness shrug off. Be impatient with
Me to see what Beauty we discover
In overlooked corners and by-paths
Trodden by pilgrims questing renewal.