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The Best Belle Of The Ball Poems

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My dress is made of fine peach coloured lace Hair is in ringlets, which frames my pretty face The lights in the room cast a romantic glow My first ever ball; I must go with the flow The orchestra strikes up a wonderful tune Ladies and gentlemen glide round the room I stand on the sidelines I am oh so very shy Then a dashing young man catches my eye I smile at him, then I coyly avert my eyes I find him so handsome; that I cannot disguise He reaches tenderly for my awaiting hand We move to the dance floor; oh it is so grand His arm wrapped around my tiny waist We dance to the music, there is no haste So full of excitement at the hope of romance I float round the room at my very first dance At the end of the dance he bows down low My heart is aflutter I hope this does not show He leads me gently to the side of the room Sweet roses enchant us, we smell their perfume Time flies by so fast and we dance all night He looks in my green eyes and to my delight Whispers so gently those words I long to hear You simply are the belle of the ball my dear He reaches out gently and kisses my hand My first ever ball has been oh so grand Sadly now it is time for me to depart I bid adieu to the man who has stolen my heart 11~15~14

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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We Found Paradise, Its Valleys Wide And Soft Green

We Found Paradise, Its Valleys Wide And Soft Green

When your heart sang to this downtrodden and lost man
singing birds stopped singing to hear that melody;
I was broken, walking through life without a plan
if sorrows were a joke, I was their parody.
Your kiss, healed aching pains, misery's deepest pits
before, living was raging hell, a sad lost cause,
blows falling, longer they came, harder their swift hits
life had been torment, day and night without a pause.

My darling, your gentle touch cast darkness away
dawn's sweet songs began to enter this renewed heart
each singing note, romantic blessing sent my way
we had love and life, beauty at each magic start.
Each moment a dance, a waltz that was heaven sent
I joyous prisoner of my Amazon queen;
all my mistakes, this soul did so gladly repent
we found paradise, its valleys wide and soft green.

No bars needed, love cast its beloved spell
each night this appreciative heart sang anew,
you are the rarest pearl, I your protective shell
with you by my side, gifting bliss long overdue.
In dreams, we see our future, its wondrous treasures
dance floors of solid gold, you the belle of the ball
my fantasy queen giving love's joyous pleasures
of my life before you, I now have no recall.


Written for Teppo Gren's -- Evergreens # 4 Cilla Black Poetry Contest
Inspired by all three wonderful songs...

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018

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Belle of the Ball

my new peach dress so fastidiously pressed in hope that a man will seek to caress Strauss’s Blue Danube calls reverberates through halls streaming from Michelangelo walls coy ladies smile bright eyes beguile captivating men’s attention for a while as gentlemen twirl them I, a lone femme feel humbled, an unwanted gem but wait a princely man approaches with rapid gait pounding of my heart will not abate laughter replaces loneliness this night he leads me to the floor beneath candlelight this welcome twist of fate feels so right liberated, we dance our prelude to romance my heart receives another chance swaying, he inhales my perfume scent of gardenias in full bloom with passion, we are both consumed gaiety undulates in each step we take if this is a dream, I dare not wake such precious bliss I could never remake
*Written November 16, 2014

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014

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the belle of the ball

My Christmas tree in sparkling dress stands in my window to impress. She smiles at all the passersby. She waves hello. She is not shy. She winks at all the trees she sees in nearby houses on the street. She seems to shiver with delight counting the minutes till midnight. For one late hour wakened from sleep through the dark house on slippered feet I crept, while up, to catch a glance of tinseled Christmas ambiance. Outside the window daintily danced my glittering Christmas tree! With others down the street and back! They twirled around the cul-de-sac! Amazed I gazed quiet and still, propped against the window sill, till tired but thrilled I left to resume much needed rest in my bedroom. I heard giggling in early light when she slipped in and stood just right. But, she leaves needles everywhere and ornaments dropped here and there. She’ll have her fun till New Year’s Day, then take a nap all tucked away. Next year she’ll dress and dance again with all her many merry friends. 12/11/2018

Copyright © P.S. AWTRY | Year Posted 2018

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The Belle of the Ball

Outside the walls stood a handmaiden gazing
Twisting her skirt between fingers so frail
Patches of burlap were sewn on the garment
Cut from a sack of a barley oat bale

Oh how she dreamed of the opulent palace
Silver and gold and the finest of lace
Gowns made of velvet with ribbons of satin
She spun around with a smile on her face

As if a princess, her blonde hair a flowing
Blue skies above now the tint of her eyes
Hearing a song on the early spring breezes
Never once noticed the coming surprise

Then saw him on horseback and blushed like a petal
Found on the reddest of roses that grew
Knee bent to curtsey, feeling embarrassed 
Knowing this gesture is what she should do

“Good day my fair maiden, your dance was enchanting” 
He said as he smiled, his kindness was felt
“So sorry my prince, I did not see you coming”
Again on the soil before him she knelt

“Rise up,” he said as he slid from the saddle
“There is no need for such formality,
for one of such beauty tis I who should bow”
Saying this he touched the earth with one knee

Once more she blushed like an apricot sunrise
Standing he reached out and taking her hand
Wondered, “What brings you by here on this morning,
adding such loveliness to our fine land?” 

“Your majesty, I’m but a servant daydreaming,
Seeing myself quite the belle of the ball
Very much childish I know you are thinking
For I belong far outside this great wall”

He pondered a moment, his chin now he fondled
Suddenly grinned with the happiest glance
“Well now fair maiden, if thou would permit me
Please be my guest at this evening’s spring dance?”

“Oh handsome prince I could not even think it
Look at my dress, I have nothing to wear
Merely these rags and an old pair of high tops
Never to mention the state of my hair”

“Never you mind and I kind of like high tops
Maybe some jeans and a tank top in red
Pull your hair back and it will be perfect
Nothing you’ll need when we climb into bed”

“What’s that you say, you want sex after dancing
Beat it you creep, I’m abreast of your game
I’ll spread these legs not for anyone fancy
Damn it, you men, every one is the same” 

As he departed, rejected and sneering
She stomped away feeling angry and mean
So here you find such an unhappy ending
The truth is she only had eyes for the queen

Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016

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The June garden  is overflowing with summer colour. 
The dresses are gorgeous. The Prince is dazzled.
In the corner, Cinderella  in drab green looks sad;
But the clock ticks. In August, the Prince of the Sky 
Will see her clusters of emberglowing yellow flowers. 
She’ll be the belle of the ball.


Note.   All gardeners love the bright, late showing of Goldenrod, after the other flowers have  gone.

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2017

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Ballroom Delights Waltz With My Prince

    Elegant intoxicating ballroom, with polished marble floor, archways lining the walls rising to the ceiling in Mahoney trim, candle holders with lit candles between each arch to match the, enormous elegant Swarovski crystal chandelier, that sparkle,  to a brilliance of the evening ball. The fragrance of perfumes, colognes, and fine cuisine fill the air.

    The ballroom is full of singles and couple, wearing their finest long gowns, and tails, their white ties and gloves, dancing to the music of the orchestra while others feast on desserts and champagne.

    My Prince stands with the other gents waiting for me to make an entrance. 

    I’m anxious to show off my sleeveless flowing gown, made out of white silk chiffon, embellished with lace and scattered pearls. I feel like the belle of the ball.

    My Prince comes up to me and ask, “May I have this dance.”  He fills my dance card, reaches out for my hand, and leads me to the dance floor, while my heart is beating faster than the music. The orchestra starts playing a slow waltz and the intoxicating turning movements and the one, two, three, steps of the waltzing speed brings intimating pleasure of ecstasy that is hard to ignore. 

    The evening comes to an end and my Prince walks me to the door and kisses my hand Goodnight.

By Eve Roper 11/24/2014
Contest Ballroom Delights 
Sponsor by Isaiah Zerbst

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2014

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The Lady Tiger And The Mouse

***Based upon an actual incident a friend had that had a "just" outcome!***

"The Lady Tiger And The Mouse"

She was returning home late one evening
in her pretty new black and red dress!
(He was hiding and waiting in the shadows....
an attacker's nature he did possess!)

She had a wonderful time that night
she was the belle of the ball!
(He somehow got into her building....
and he was hiding in the hall!)

She made her way 
to her apartment door
and she was entering her key!
(He silently snuck up behind her
and he atttacked her viciously!)

*****(Poetic Misfortune)*****

((It was then at this point
that everything.....
everything for him 
did change!
He made the biggest 
mistake of his life
He was really out of his range!!!))


She did not panic 
and she remembered
all she had learned 
in her class! 
She kneed him right 
in his manhood-
and she then started kicking his....
"BUTT!"  :-)

The "Tigress" in her...
it did surface!
She said....
"This will not be done!"
(He never knew what hit him-
all he wanted to do was run!)

Her elbow to his jaw
knocked him quickly 
to the floor!
(He actually tried to crawl away-
he did not want this anymore!)

Her neighbors 
heard the commotion
and they quickly dialed 911!
(This man became a cowardly lump-
for him in no way was this fun!)

When the police arrived, 
Oh, they found him,
he hadn't "crawled" very far!
They handcuffed him 
and took him away........
This is why his evening 
turned "bizarre!"

Little did he know 
in his wildest dreams
that the "Woman" 
he chose to attack.....
had trained and earned 
a "black belt"....
and "special" skills 
she did not lack!

she was a classmate!
We were relieved 
for the way things 
turned out!
She did what 
she had to do 
that night
and she left no room 
for doubt!

So in the end 
it turned out right!
her attacker 
happened to be her 
but his cowardice 
has allowed me
to write and call this......
"The Lady Tiger And The Mouse!"


Copyright © Walter T. Ashe | Year Posted 2016

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An invitation arrives to my first dance I'm hoping for some sweet romance But I haven’t got a stitch to wear Hope I find some creative flair Top hat and tails and lots of glam If I don’t find a dress it will be a sham Off to the thrift shop I must go For a few dollars I can be the star of the show I pick up a stylish pink feather boa Like the posh ladies wear from Genoa A designer dress for a couple of bucks Hope the guys come here for there’s a lovely tux A pair of high heels and my outfit is complete Those society ladies simply cannot compete I will simply be the belle of the ball For my outfit will look the best of them all When I arrive at the dance I simply steal the show - That night I go home with a handsome new beau! Contest:-) Putttin on the Ritz Sponsor Judy Konos 10th August 2015 Jan Allison

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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You saunter through the double doors
Head held high
Chest puffed out
Putting on airs
You think you’re so clever, so deceiving
Showing up baring the most ornate mask
But I see right through
The mask that you wear tonight
You think it will conceal
You think just tonight
In this hour
You can be somebody else
But you’re dancing with the Belle of the Ball
This is MY Masquerade
And this is the 147th event
You just don’t recognize me
Because I wear a different mask each time
Your mask is cheap material
Sequins missing, feathers askew 
Such feeble attempts
I smell your bravado
Putrid and reeking, stinking up the air
But I see right through
I’ve donned masks my whole life
That’s why I am the bearer of this sash
That you see around my neck 
“Strongest Person I Know”
But I allow no one to gaze under the mask
Sure I play the Belle oh so well
But if you all saw beneath
Saw WHY I’ve had to wear masks
You’d strip me of my title
You’d rip off my sash
Break the pearls from my neck
You’d run for the door tonight
Quicker than Cinderella at the stroke of midnight
That’s the beauty of a Masquerade
You can pretend to be something you’re not
When one guise becomes worn
When it loses its sparkle
It’s glamour and charm
That first catches your eye
Well it’s quite alright 
Because I have a treasure trove 
BURSTING with masks
Grab another and keep dancing
Twirling the night away
Never skipping a beat
But when the music finally comes to an end
When the door closes and the final guest departs
Empty wine glasses are seen scattered all around
The only sound is the echo of my heels
When the confetti lies lifeless on the floor
That’s when I remove my mask
Exhausted, worn and weary
When I gladly, almost desperately 
Take off my tattered sash 
And throw it beneath my feet
Because I’m not resilient and strong now
I feel weak, frail and reclusive in my realm
That’s when the tears start to brim
That’s when I wish someone else held the title
So stripped and naked
Alone to clean up the mess
Everyone else has left behind
But there’s no one to there to pick up the sash
Just me and the sound of my tears
Echoing as they hit the floor
Almost fearfully I pick up the sash
Dust off the confetti
Smooth out the wrinkles
Before placing it back around my neck
As I throw my shoulders back
Standing taller than ever
Wiping away tears that no one saw
I walk back to my trunk
My trunk of the most decorative
Ornate, obscuring masks
Finding another to wear
As I prepare for the next façade
The next Masquerade 

Copyright © A Rambling Righting Riley - Shauna Riley | Year Posted 2013

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Table for Four Please

I went to the PS Convention.
I had a wide open mind.
I wasn't sure what to expect
or exactly what I would find?

The set-up was four at a table.
The attendees were all in a tizzy!
Nobody knew, who was sitting with who
so introductions kept everyone busy.

I love all the Soupers I deal with,
so picking just three, was a chore!
Besides, how can you recognize someone
if you've never seen them before?

I decided on Larry and Bob.
My third choice was Linda-Marie.
The guys and I started PS around the same time
and Linda-Marie's been so helpful to me.

I find Larry's talent, second to none.
His range is way out of sight!
The point in his poems is so crystal clear
and reading them, is such a delight!

I chose Bob, for more than Poetry Soup.  
The reason - let me make clear!
We were comrades-in-arms, as the old saying goes,
cause we both had an Air Force career.

Linda-Marie - what can you say?
She's our PS "Belle-of-the-Ball"!
She's our Good-Will Ambassadoress!
Always at our beck-and-call!

These are the three at my table,
I regret they got stuck with me.
It's Larry and Bob and the gal we all love,
our "Sweetheart" Linda-Marie!

Our table:
Ralph Taylor
Larry Belt 
Bob Hinshaw
Linda-Marie the " Sweetheart" of PS

Copyright © RALPH TAYLOR | Year Posted 2011

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Quietly reserved, shining child of light
a once in a lifetime jewel forever bright,
a delicate soul nurtured with loving care
a perfect wished for blessing quite rare,

Uncommonly gifted, of royalty crowned,
a faithful daughter of heritage profound,
a down-to-earth progeny of maturity sound
a sparkling gem of jovial energy unbound,

Essence of majesty across twilight’s sky
an endearing joyful tear in a Mother’s eye,
a breathtaking tropical sunset firstborn
a wonderful treasure just once wellborn,

Epitome of a shimmering moonlit night
a brilliant star visible at dawn’s first light,
a warm-hearted cheerful soul pure of heart
a soul of character and wisdom at the start,

Nature’s magical life’s journey begun
a heart renewed yet evermore golden,
a precious pearl never before seen
a divinely promised heavenly dream,

Innately soft spoken, not easily stirred
a celebration of love politely heard,
a cherished genteel spirit blest on high 
a Mother’s joy ever treasured nearby,

Exquisite demure unforgettable cutie
an enduring first impression of beauty,
an inspired spirited belle of the ball 
a truly unique someone adored by all. 

© Eugene Harvey

Copyright © Eugene Harvey | Year Posted 2012

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                                              AUTUMN CLOUD
                  Clouds are not the scurrying horses, they are not in hurry
                     They are silky autumn clouds, carrying smells of curry
                They are lovely o tum full of nature’s freshly corralled charm
                They love kiddie kids of Kailash who have neither dad nor mum
                    Princess Stella with umbrella dancing belle of the ball 
               Cloud chooses for her cruises a bunch of roses in golden trawl
                 Prince of Bordeaux in Alamogordo finds a cloud is sneaking in 
                   Hello come on little cloud, autumn’s bestest flying sheen
                   Cloud brings his Stella’s letter as her fairies’ deliveryman
                 Prince is happy tells his pappy” I will marry as early as I can”
                   So the cloud drops the shroud and is now a autumn god
                Blesses the prince and never seen as he joins his rank abroad


18th October, 2014

Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2014

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Sticky Fingers McRaccoon

The belle of the ball and most frightening of all is Sticky Fingers McRaccoon.
He knows how to win, and how to get in, with his gang, of crazy ragamuffins.
He’s never invited, but won’t ever be slighted, as he comes along, for a crime.
And the birthday bash, yes, that he did crash… for a fun filled jolly old time.

We kept our eyes, on him, all the time, but found later, we’d been bamboozled.
As we watched him, someone broke in, and our shiny bobbles, had been hustled.
We were humbled to know, we’d been treated so, and vowed to get vengeance.
Instead of making a fuss, we got FunkunDilly, to follow him home, in silence.

You see, a squirrel can climb, and see, from way up in the trees, to reconnoiter.
Not only our goods, but all other’s too, were caught quite true, with our ardor...
While Sticky Fingers McRaccoon, slept with joyous dreams, of glorious plunder.
But when he woke up, he was surrounded by Trolls, with faces meaner than badgers.

Now violence is not what we sought, rather a job, that would suit them, quite well.
His plunder now gone, and clubs close in Troll hands, he agreed to, our bombshell.
He and his gang, were bespelled, by our neighbor witch, to forever live in Las Vegas.
With Trolls to supervise, a Magic McRaccoon Show, would be totally, tremendous.

McRaccoon wasn’t mean, he’d just lost his dreams, you see, that were so wonderous.
Now he was free, to make a great dream, in a way that was so bubbly, and contagious.
Siegfried and Roy, look out my boys, McRaccoon is on his way, to massive greatness.
All because he stole Lilly’s toys, and FunkunDilly had brought down their crimes, demise.

There would now be magical shows, where the front seats, would be ours, to plunder.
Trolls would arrive, to help at all times, as friends they all slowly, became, forever.

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012

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Searching For Rella

It was just another Saturday night,
wasn't with nobody
My pockets were full
and my heart was on call
I was dressed to the nines,
and my hair was laid just fine
when I stepped into the 
Coats-For-Kids charity ball
I made the usual walk through,
did the casual mingle
Bumping elbows with the upper crust crew,
it was a nice mix of married and single
All the heavy hitters were just rolling in,
as I gave a holla to a couple of close friends
Started getting a good vibe when I saw
the deejay who was spinning here
He was the same one who was thumping the tunes
at my baby sister's wedding last year
It was about a quarter past ten,
when I saw a black limo carriage cruise in
And when the chauffeur opened the door,
out stepped a vision of beauty I never seen before:
Gold dress
Emerald low-cut heels
I said to myself ... is this fairy tale for real
Asymmetrical sculpted hair
Chocolate pearl-shaped eyes
She illuminated the place like a tropical sunrise
I followed her everywhere as she floated through the crowd
being ogled and cat-called
Her path parted a sea of whispers of ooh and aahs
Then she suddenly stopped,
and without turning, held out her hand
Beckoning me to come dance
I danced with a princess under crystal chandelier light,
we chatted and laughed until nearly midnight
We talked of romantic things; 
misty meadows and enchanting moon beams,
aromatic glades and sipping lemonade in balmy shade
We talked of irreverent things; 
favorite TV shows and watching drifting snow blow,
performance art critiques and specialty items at small boutiques
We talked of cerebral things; 
the longevity of coniferous trees, the hive hierarchy of the bees,
the societal impact of big pharma, the reciprocity of karma
But of ourselves, we only knew each other's first name
With unspoken mutual consent, 
we embraced, with playfulness, the mystery of the courtship game
Then, as the clock began to midnight chime,
she gasped and intoned she was out of time
And just as quickly as we met,
she departed in haste with no decorum or grace
As the black limo streaked away,
in my stunned silence, I happened to look down
and was shocked at what lay on the floor ---
one emerald shoe
Now what was I to do?
The only thing about her I knew,
was that her name was Rella
I searched everywhere for a year,
was just a sad, crestfallen fella
At the charity ball the following year,
she didn't come and no one knew who she was
Then a short while after that ... I gave up looking
It was almost two years later, on a clear spring day,
I went window shopping at a mall
Saw a set of glasses that came with a smile,
I saw again that beautiful belle of the ball
I told her that I had been searching for her,
and that I had her emerald shoe
She said: while you were out there looking for me,
I was always praying and waiting for you

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016

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Next Time I See You

Next Time I See You

I will sing a wonderful song my dear
And quickly lend me your kind ear
Was about a girl who was so sweet
Abruptly swept me off of my feet.

She seemed to be a Miss Belle of the Ball
Who had me pinned against the wall
I surely liked her and this she did know
Smiling, laughing eyes had told me so.

How much I loved and loved that night
While dancing until dawn's early light
Then like Cinderella she soon flew away
Both her and her baggage the same day.

You must know who this girl is by now
And I hope to see you again somehow
I only want one fairy tale to come true
Will be the next time when I see you.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

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Azalea! Belle of the ball
Elegant stylish grace,
Flowing swirls,
Shades of pink satin
Air of sophistication,
Awakening imaginations 
Love and nature,
Played a part,
Warm breezes swayed,
Different dream worlds,
Dancing emotions waltzed,
Romance bloomed,
Midnight hopes disappeared,
Twelve o’clock struck,
A fairy tale,
But for Azalea,
She remains
Always and forever,
A very beautiful flower.

Wendy Jae

Copyright © Wendy Rycroft | Year Posted 2017

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Fourteen Million To One

What if I happened to win the lottery What would I do with the money Spend it on all kinds of frivolous things Or a year long trip with my honey Eat in restaurants three times a day Choose the richest item on the menu Act like a snobbish old mucky muck And obnoxious no matter the venue They'd surely know I was 'nouveau riche' By my big mouth flamboyant air But I wouldn't care, with a bulging wallet I'd do everything with panache and flair Quite a pipe dream I'm currently having Not a chance this lovable jester Could be anything but the belle of the ball A vision of beauty in polyester Odds are about fourteen million to one So I won't be buying the beer More chance of becoming a cultural icon Like Mylie or Britney Spears © Jack Ellison 2012

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2012

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Belle of the ball, darling of every man’s eye, 
I floated ‘neath my emerald gown gracefully
So many pretty men held out their hand to me
Spurning them coquettishly, I batted eyelashes
behind which my predator’s eyes ravaged
each suitor
Beauty resplendent, darling of no other belle
Captivating, dancing on the floor where no
mirror laid its encumbrances upon me
No need to seek pale reflection when every
eye marks me and sends me swooning glances
Princes and poets, emperors and fools, all
made a clumsy queue to vie for my next dance
Laughing, I let them twirl me and felt their
hot breath on my neck
Hunger rose
Tenderly I went through the menu, summing
up plumpness or paucity of flesh
My upturned nose could scent the ill and
ruined, and this night I was having none of
Then sweating eagerly came young soldier
in laughing brass buttons and tender eyes
Enchanted with me, he led me round the
I feigned faintness, allowing him
to take me to a cozened balcony, 
where he, with beating heart, 
did touch me tenderly
Alas, balcony in form only 
Dining hall elaborate and flowery
When the hot spurt of his blood
flowered my lips, my center burst
its dams as well
I will not kill him, this sweet one
I have sired, too savory for a snack
Instead he shall a banquet be

Copyright © Sherry Asbury | Year Posted 2014

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Growing Pains

(Written in 1970 when I was a junior in high school)

Kyle’s only three and quite the tyke
And he wants to ride a two wheel bike
But his mom and dad say he’s too small
And they’re afraid that he might fall
Now on his cheek a tear-track’s stain
He’s suffering from growing pains

Jill’s just thirteen and she can’t wait
‘Til she goes out on her first date
She finds it hard to bite her tongue
When her parents say she’s still too young
She feels this treatment is inhumane
She’s suffering from growing pains

At twenty-four Paul’s a broken man
He went to college with big plans
‘Til he gave in to that young girl’s charms
And she stuck a needle into his arm
Now his plans revolve around cocaine
He’s suffering from growing pains

She’s thirty-five and should have it all
Because Erin was always the belle of the ball
But four kids and a job have taken their toll
And now she is feeling far beyond old
She once was a beauty but now she’s just plain
She’s suffering from growing pains

He’s forty-one and Bill had success
But now his life is a real mess
He thought to be rich, but he hadn’t figured
That he’d end up married to a gold digger
He has everything to lose and nothing to gain
He’s suffering from growing pains

Just fifty-six and in Jean’s once sharp mind
Her thoughts and dreams are so intertwined
That she doesn’t know which ones are real
Or what emotions she should feel
The doctor’s say she’s quite insane
She’s suffering from growing pains

Sixty years have now come and gone
And Bob sits staring at his lawn
He once took great care to keep it neat
Now it hurts too much to be on his feet
And he tries so hard to not complain
He’s suffering from growing pains

She’s seventy-one and Laura finds
Herself alone again in time
She’s lost her husband of some fifty years
And now she has nothing but her tears
She feels her heart has split in twain
She’s suffering from growing pains

At eighty-seven, Ed looks out
His window and wonders what life’s all about
Everyone he knew is gone
And he dreads facing another dawn
Now the organ plays a sad refrain
He’s suffered life’s final growing pain

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012

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The Ice Dancer

The Ice Dancer.

She got up each morning
at the crack of dawn,
did toe loops like no-one,
all part of the sport,
her triple axles
were a sight to behold,
as they followed her progress
she had them in awe.

Her steps were so light that
they couldn’t believe,
how she defied Death,
with every move up her sleeve,
she traversed the ice,
at such a pace,
the whole crowd were spellbound,
catching their breath.

“It’s not the winning!”
that’s what she said.
“It’s believing - fate takes care of the rest!”
“It’s not the winning, that matters to me.
It’s the struggle, and joy, along the way.”

She went round the world,
was the envy of all,
and wherever she went
was the belle of the ball,
but she didn’t have time for 
a family,
because this ice-dancer
wanted to be free.

She danced in Spain, 
and Moscow,
Britain and France,
the audience flocked to 
see her dance,
and this vision on ice had the courage of a man,
but the heart of a woman,
to understand.

“It’s not the winning,”
she smiled, as she grasped
a shining trophy,
and the whole crowd gasped.
“It’s more than winning!”
she said to me,
“It’s leaving you something,
for posterity.”

And now the ice stadium’s
closed for the rest of the day,
the crowd have shed
and gone on their way.
The ice is still covered,
in bouquets of red,
and a little ice dancer
is tucked up in bed.

And she is dreaming,
one day she will know,
the joys of the prizes,
wherever she goes.
And she hopes she will dance
like her heroine,
and she hears all her words,
in her heart, 
like rain.

“It’s not the winning, it’s the journey with you,
the places I went, and the people I knew,
and if I do something, that can raise the sport,
then, that’s all that matters,
cos life’s so short”

And now she’s dreaming,
of a little girl
who gave her a rose,
as she twirled, and twirled.
She knows the journey, and the hard knocks,
but there’s something about her, 
something she’s got.

“It’s not the winning -
we lose in the end,
and losing is winning,
if it goes to a friend.
It’s not the winning,
or getting the prize.
It’s being a dreamer,
and doing it right.”

Copyright Suzy Davies 07/29/2016. All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © Suzy Davies | Year Posted 2016

Details | Belle Of The Ball Poem | Create an image from this poem.


Hear me.
 My words,
 with ink tell the tale
of a lady and her lord.
See me.
My pen,
miming their accord.
The laughter; soundlessly
R i n g i n g     
in your ears.
The merry heartbreak
spilling golden champagne;
T e a r s.
Cries of passion
dancing across the floor
chandeliered to the moment
within our first embrace.

The horses depart, printing across my floor.
They carry him from me.
Belle of the ball draped on a chair
I startle from my dream.

Copyright © Lezel Van Den Berg | Year Posted 2016

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Ballroom Gown Moment

Pastel pink ballgown floats on horizon
Belle of the ball accompanied by gray gents
Dancing into early morn, roosters sing on
Still accented by soft entertainment

So swiftly has the dance floor changed to light
Like life that changes slipping up on us
A mother bird busied herself with bright
Eyes and wide mouths, then gone is little fuss

Cool is the morn, damp the air_ comfortable
Soon the golden sun will warm the air, chase
Away the chill, send me inside unable
To enjoy nature, But God's presence is in place

A few ballgown minutes, time moves onward
Thank you for this time in heart undergird

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2012

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Fourteen Million To One

What if I happened to win the lottery What would I do with the money Spend it on all kinds of frivolous things Or a year long trip with my honey Eat in restaurants three times a day Choose the richest item on the menu Act like a real old mucky muck And obnoxious no matter the venue They'd surely know I was 'nouveau riche' By my big mouth flamboyant air But I wouldn't care with a bulging wallet Doing everything with panache and flair What a pipe dream I'm currently having As if this sweet old loveable jester Could be anything but the belle of the ball A vision of beauty in polyester Odds are about fourteen million to one So I won't be buying the beer More chance of becoming a cultural icon Like Cyrus or Perry or Spears © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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Porcelain Dancing Statuette

Statuesque, graceful beauty dancing with joy
Porcelain glazed skin and delicate features
Southern belle of the ball, your day has passed
Dandy boys desire your loving affections
Porcelain glazed skin and delicate features
Strong of will to take this life by the hand
Dandy boys desire  your loving affections
Ready for action, a survivor to behold
Strong of will to take this life by the hand
Southern belle of the ball your day has passed
Ready for action, a survivor to behold
Statuesque, graceful beauty dancing with joy!

For the Pantoum contest, Thanks for the challenge!
This was chosen to be published.

Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2010