Best Bedewed Poems
I remember the tree verdant in spring
Those years stretched out could be filled with anything
I had dreams of strong limbs and plenitude
Thoughtfully give limbs for nest and bedewed
I saw you change in fall to colors rare
The frost touched your leaves and limbs unaware
I saw winds swoop from the north stripping pride
Then run its course, your fears you tried to hide
I wonder what will happen to the tree
Though life issues idiosyncrasy
Written: 8-26-22
Contest: Dot Your i's and Cross Your t's
Sponsor: Hilo Poet
While I gaze in your eyes, cool cerulean blue,
Sifting night, straining stars through morning’s sweet dew,
I can fathom the depths of empyreal skies,
Angels fluttering by, riding wild butterflies
While I gaze in your eyes, changing, aqua-blue greening,
I’m sucked into chasms, cascading, careening,
And yield to enticements which meekly disarm,
Seeping virtuous beauty, sad sensuous charm
While I gaze in your eyes, bleeding fiery blue
Ever tempting with treasures, with pleasures for two,
Being caught at the core of a blazing sapphire
Possessing, enthralling, aflame with desire
While I gaze in your eyes, misty emeralds, deep green,
Veiling laughter and banter, and echoes between,
Then I dream, so it seems, in whatever the place,
Of your scent, of your breath, of your radiant face
While I gaze in your eyes, at times placidly blue,
Near’ as calm as the weirs in the woods all bedewed,
Forty winks relegate to a shimmering lake,
Gently floating on lilies, while waiting to wake
While I gaze in your eyes, caught engulfed in the greens
And consigning my fate unto verdant ravines,
My reactions, at length, become shyer and shyer
Reminiscent of ravens at risk in the briar
While I gaze in your eyes, restless, hesitant blues
Overwhelming sensations with turbulent hues,
I’m succumbing to waves of a storm battered sea,
Being cast like a plank, never meant to be free
While I gaze in your eyes, shadowed, Midnight Lake green
Glowing hazy with dreams, misty thoughts so serene,
Sudden silence befalls me, a fast sinking stone,
Looming lost in your eyes, I am never alone
While I gaze in your eyes, saddened, lachrymal blue,
Spilling trickles of rain, pearls obscuring your view,
I’ll attend to your anguish and feelings morose,
Lightly kissing your tears, touching, holding you close
While I gaze in your eyes, pulsing infinite green
Of the earth and of heaven and all in between,
It is simple to see that my hands can hold all
Of the treasures I find which so humbly enthral
While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re bountifully blue,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning is granted to few...
While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re blindingly green,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning cannot be foreseen...
Yet I hope... and I wait...
The leaf came down
it came down
it came down
from height of thinnest twig
a fated swan
a fated swan
in youth she bloomed unfurled from sprig
reborn in green esprit of Spring
supple her strength to weather storms
her skin bedewed despite the thirsty sun
and anchored she sailed the winds until
she let go
she let go
she let go
in surrender to November
a Fall star dimmed on season’s stage
a fallen star in dizzy whimsy whirl
ah… Autumn’s strawberry-blonde
a flash of fame while colored flame
but dead to a maple tree
who needs her no longer to win aging’s game
though she loses her dew
she’s alive to herself
as she muses with stream-song chanteuses
she’s alive to herself
while baring the bruises she chooses
she’s alive to herself
accepting her fate to crinkle and crepe
she’s alive to herself
— as I am a l i v e
to myself
These moments that I spend,
in sacred prayer for you,
for your soul and body given
in grace and beauty to the night,
the way you move through heaven,
angel, woman, here to bring this light,
touched with streams of love,
flowing in music to you,
around you, through you,
sending to your struggling self
release and comfort from within,
songs pouring through your sweetest dreams
of life and love and your giving heart
wrapped in tenderness,
imbued with love, held by holy knowing
of you beyond the world and in your peace,
belonging as you do to God Herself,
come from her to grace the world:
Oh, soul divine! Oh, blessing crowned
with golden light and smile bedewed!
Never has there been a time more precious than
these moments you let me spend
deeply loving you.
Christopher M. Swan 2011
Ode to Morning
Yon morning, spellbound mistress of the skies
How gently all your feathers move apart
How lightly thrill your soft, eternal sighs
And feed with hope and mirth my swollen heart
How softly sway your tresses of pure gold
And glut with wealth the barren, night-sprent glade
And plump the crisp, brown hazel shells with beams
And cast a light strewn with a cooling shade
Athwart the gentle ebbs of oozing streams
Once quiet, still unravished yet. How bold
Your bubbling swells all cast their glinting charms
Across the earth’s soft cheek and softer breast
Yon morning, wrap the world within your arms
And light each mead with gloried noonday zest
And twine with passioned rays the Heaven’s steep
And cups of all the gem-encrusted buds
And feed the bowers with a web of light
And all the clouds with Lord Apollo’s rods
Of nascent shine to veer away the night
And all the evil spells of its black sleep
Return to us, gold morn with aching pride,
And wake the spirits of the sleeping clouds,
And stir the bees which in the foxgloves hide,
And let the bashful roses pry their shrouds
To feel upon their breasts the cooling breeze
Unfold from out the mountain’s stony rim
The rainbows, looming arches, sundry hued
Gold morn, when midnight’s sleepy glow shall dim
And leas no more shall be by stars bedewed
Then glow, until the lark sings with full ease!
© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov
Adrift, a-meadow in spring color,
Daisy, daffodil, dandelion,
A signal flag wrinkles and flaps with motion;
Awash, a-drizzle dazzle of rain.
A girl floats to the tides current
Happy to hale the freedom of her new skirt
Happy to wave in high air, so pretty.
Cotton dyed, swishing to and fro to rise
With fall and jump jump each skip
The streetlight beacon beckons:
Twilight light approaches, roars
To subdue the bright colors.
She rounds the sound, the curbside corner
And runs down the street,
Smiles line porches as “happy sailing”
affirms kind porch-side mothers
Twilight meadows become bedewed
Not by Marching drizzle but rather
Drain down streets to storm-drains in April fashion
Thunder cracks and the skirt
Safely ties herself down to the home-harbor
Breeze billowing flapping skirt:
A-ruffling akin to spinning in a springy summer field
Hate bedewed with youth
power to impair one’s kin,
grace in growing old
a time to regret, lament...
grandson, reflection of time.
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Picnics at the Park
I wished that I had stopped
The hands of Mother Clock
From ticking on its tac
As time flew by steadfast.
Bye, bye my toddler sweet
Hello there little princess
New adventures you'll seek
Words small and big you'll speak.
You're so confident at three
A daredevil I could see
Climbing, jumping, hopping
In every closet, hiding.
First time I saw you biked
With training wheels unlatched
Made your Grandma so proud
Love tears bedewed her eyes.
At four you got bolder
Your bike rides went farther
Your hollers were like fireflies
Which I chased them from afar.
Though dusk had already fallen
You're still roamin' in the gloamin'
A guard brought you back alone
Told him 3324 Park St., was your home.
You loved picnics at age five
On the grass, we laid our mat
Admiringly I watched you biked
With your cool sunglasses and hat.
One day when you're past five
Moved miles away I couldn't drive
How I wished that I had stopped
Before. The tic tacs of Mother Clock!
The secrecy that ad-libbed by the muteness
Embraced fervency aroused by the speechless
The darkness that mildly faded by the moonshine night
He gently took hold of time
Holding her by his arm, softly he lauded
The moment with rhyme –
Three melodic words as he whispered
Broke through his heart and spoken by his eyes
An adorable smile shared by her
That touched his essence longed beyond time.
Soothingly he crossed his arms by her back
And slowly and slowly…
They adhered themselves nigher
No more words uttered and benumbed their breath
They stormily gazed themselves
Throbbing of the heart, the only fathom eared.
Blink of lashes felt upon by the adage intimacy
Bedewed by secretion when two lips sensed the legacy
They prolonged by the eroticism that shone,
He slowly and softly eased his hands
And allayed her by her dorsum, which upraised
Her desires with eternal dusk that kept on.
A kiss of betrothals on her forehead
Whispered by drops from her eyeses
And wordses were bespoken by the affair of silence,
He slowly and gently held her across her waist
By blink of an eye they fell upon abreast on the rose bed
Where the secrecy lingered by the comeuppance.
A kiss of attachment on her neck
Pulsed by innate reflex of her body
And tepidity elicited by the adhesion.
Longanimity of love felt upon by the quest for lust
Peeled by the vehemence when two body conjunct by their essence
They made love by the sound of their gratifying whispers
And sometimes a smile was shared
By the presence of affirmation and touch.
Wallow in their squeeze on the bask shed
They rollover dearly upon their ardent bed
The running away time failed to apprehend
They abstracted themselves
By the renascence of ignition with glows of love.
The secrecy then ad-libbed by the muteness
Embraced fervency aroused by the speechless
The darkness that mildly faded by the moonshine night
That actually met the dawn by the running away time
They were benumbed by the naive realism
And upheld their sensualism by the moonshine bright.
I devour the time I came by -
By divine grace the twilight glinted
With the bedewed lips I felt mine
As I took the sip from my glass of whiskey
Blended with soda and ice.
The wind passed by the solstice time
I greeted the solitude that I took pride
With my nerves resting at peace
Yet I revived my soul to see her clearly in my mind's eye.
Drops fell upon my sour cheeks
Yet I veiled those with an ethereal smile
As I poured another sip from my glass of whiskey
I moaned with her fading memoirs
As my senses were getting confined.
I tried to speak but I couldn't whisper even
As I saw her going away with someone
I tried to stop but I couldn't walk even
When I realized I lost my nerves, I lost my senses
And I let her go, pouring another to my whiskey glass.
For once I feared and I shivered
And to honor my soul I tried to cheer
Neither I was drunk, nor it was cold
I opined my soul among the mortals of solitude
And I inhered with her memoirs by the twilight
That shone - as I poured a drop of my tears
in my whiskey glass.
Gracious folds as satin, silky dunes waft
Undulating curves; frothy waves tossed
Seamless grooves filter subconscious dreams
Pallid contours emit hypnotizing streams
From her chiseled, sculpted mold congruent beams stretch
In well-rounded center, a sharp, cerebral image doth sketch
From smooth surface glides an effervescent glow
In the glistening radiance a sultry wind doth bellow
From high cheek bones swaggers a dignified tone
Beneath, ingratiating shadows mystique doth chaperon
Cheeks blushed with rosy hue bedewed garlands strew
Cupped in ivory fount from which bubbling streams flow
sun rays caught bedewed glint topaz,
weeds of temperate light
expanding promise-buds of summer joys,
and almond blossom memories
pass in favor of new life;
should ever there be blessings in the air
they are birthed from the warming spring breath
of April
and a charm of hummingbirds
in a field of lupine
'Neath the Willows, now cloaked in brume,
as streams the night time deepening.
Enshrouding all in shadows womb,
I espy true loves awakening.
Evetide slumber did find a youth,
within the mead, where I do dwell.
Wont was I, to bespell, forsooth,
tis truly, one thing I do well.
Mazed, stands young swain, aside his bay,
embracing nymph, of flaxen hair.
Bedewed, were eyes, by impish fay,
for it be a swine, he holds there.
Of deep laughter, I do partake.
As disenthralled, young swain awakes.
For: Shakespearian or English Sonnet contest
Host: John Freeman
Placement: 7th
I am a brook of blood
Drawn from the veins of the tender bud;
My drift is bedewed with homicide,
Stabbed with furry killed with pride.
Flowing by the might of a flood
And disappearing into the mud
And earth cradles me
Unto a motionless sea
I’m the scent of smiling dawn
And eddy of Afzal and Burhan;
I’m Maqbool’s tidy clan
And I’m going on and on…
And again sun will rise
In our ravaged paradise;
And again moon will rise
In the calmness of skies
I am a brook of blood
Drawn from the veins of the tender bud;
My drift is bedewed with homicide,
Stabbed with furry killed with pride.
Flowing by the might of a flood
And disappearing into the mud
And earth cradles me
Unto a motionless sea
Bearing the pain of paradise
And roaming in azure skies
And then whispering tear sped
To infuse life again into the dead
I’m the scent of smiling dawn
And eddy of Afzal and Burhan;
I’m Maqbool’s tidy clan
And I’m going on and on…
I’m essence of the beauty
And healer of fading misery;
It is the begning of the new day
And the forecast of a cheerful ray
And again sun will rise
In our ravaged paradise;
And again moon will rise
In the calmness of skies