Best Benison Poems
Ripples
Down the dusty road,
in tattered rags,
He came,
weary,
wilted,
and
withered.
Body bent with age,
bones sticking out of the flabby skin,
with a tremor
running down his limbs.
With eyes reflecting hope,
he waited at my doorstep.
No words came out from pursed lips
but,
in mute language
begged for alms,
hopeful he would never be betrayed
I held his shriveled hand,
helped him ascend the steps.
Like a child obeying it’s Elder,
he sat on a chair in the patio.
The sumptuous fare, served before,
he surveyed with eyes
bulging out in utter disbelief,
and greedily devoured
every bit of morsel.
A rare gleam lighted up his face.
With hands folded in benison
he stood up and silently took leave.
I watched him stumble
along the country track
and fade away in the distance.
Ripples of joy stirred my mind
in ever widening circles
as, a pebble idly tossed
causes ripples in still waters
over a random act of kindness
idly tossed !
Kindness
Down the dusty road, in tattered rags he came-
An old man- weary, wilted, and withered.
Supported on a stick, still he staggered lame,
And with age and fatigue, his body quivered.
I could see a tremor running down his hips.
With expectant eyes, he waited at my doorstep.
No words came out of his pursed lips.
He was tottering as he took each step.
I held his hand, helped him to the patio.
Like a child obeying its elder, he sat on a chair
With eyes sending out a radiant glow,
From the sumptuous fare served, he ate his share.
As he finished his meal, a gleam lighted up his face.
He stood up with hands folded in benison
And took leave, bowing and smiling in grace.
I was so happy that I could make his world blazon.
I watched him stumble along the uneven track
And fade away like a shadow in the distance.
So elated I was that the tears of joy I couldn’t hold back,
With an ebullience penetrating my mind’s outer surface.
As a pebble idly tossed cause ripples in still water,
A random act of kindness idly tossed gave me such delight.
As the ripples keep widening and on the banks splatter,
In me, the joy over my kind act, as waves began to beat.
double reversed etheree
Where can I go until this all makes sense?
When will I get it straight in my head?
And how do I explain to mom?
Telling Joseph will be hard.
Where did Gabriel go?
She rose hurriedly
from the vision
with new
faith.
Trust
confirmed
with insight,
Mary sojourns
to her cousin’s home.
There, great exaltation
validates her trust in God -
broadcasting the Messiah’s birth,
heralding His praise from joyful lips.
God has pronounced benison upon her.
written 17 Sep 2014
entered in Sharon Hamilton's double reverse etheree contest
Down the dusty road,
in tattered rags,
He came,
weary,
wilted,
and
withered.
Body bent with age,
bones sticking out of the flabby skin,
with a tremor
running down his limbs.
With eyes reflecting hope,
he waited at my doorstep.
No words came out from pursed lips
but,
in mute language
begged for alms,
hopeful he would never be betrayed
I held his shriveled hand,
helped him ascend the steps.
Like a child obeying it’s Elder,
he sat on a chair in the patio.
The sumptuous fare, served before,
he surveyed with eyes
bulging out in utter disbelief,
and greedily devoured
every bit of morsel.
A rare gleam lighted up his face.
With hands folded in benison
he stood up and silently took leave.
I watched him stumble
along the country track
and fade away in the distance.
Ripples of joy stirred my mind
in ever widening circles
as, a pebble idly tossed
causes ripples in still waters
over a random act of kindness
idly tossed !
Placed First in Strand's Poetry Contest
A beautiful morning as something new
Whatever I am wishing is turning true
A book nearby candling enchants few
Ringing the bell and here is the view
Till so long I waited for that only “ONE”
Who knows true commitment in relation
Finally I have that beloved companion
True prayers delivered magical wand
A union of hearts with no selfish reason
Bell tinkled to spread adorable season
Feels like a dream being in holy benison
Book read it all as taught in magic lesson
Candle lighted showing way to Soul Mate
Till now involved and lost at wrong gate
Finally I have what I ever wished in fate
Magic did helped but no evilness or hate
Close the book, ring the bell, light the candle
Mark it as the dawn of true love idol
In this ruthless world magic may handle
A life of endless love never to dwindle
Magic spelled my heartily wish of fairy tale
Book read to start with bell marking hail
My wish to light the candle of love trail
Only to recognize, no continuing artificial
Name: Sneha Agarwal
I will enter the quiet wood,
On the rustling leaves I will dance,
I will watch the Godhood,
I will prance to the autumn’s romance.
I will wear a colorful dress,
I will mix up myself with the leaves,
I will hear what wind says,
I will feel the tender breeze.
I will see a birch in gilding,
A maple in its nice crimson,
A spiders beautiful sewing
Created with Gods benison.
The Sun will play with the dewdrops,
The leaves will dance rock and roll.
Feeling desirable aromas of hops
The autumn will be a droll.
I will be fascinated by the autumn’s beauty
Where only peace and harmony are on duty.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
For Russell Sivey contest "Up in the Autumn Air"
26/10/2012
Quote"A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked". Bernard Meltzer
Her gaze was distorted beyond recall.
Looking at me twice and venerating all.
The two of us in tandem fascinate me.
Whose life was broken, many days to glee?
Light travels through cracks in the glass,
Amidst shards of her, thrown on the grass.
Using golden glue to restore crank pottery,
Rules used to foster mayhem and slobbery
The girl in the crystal appears to be broken,
Sharp wounds full of light and left unspoken.
Once she reaches fullness, she is complete,
Even if it fit her head, wouldn't cover her feet.
Light breeze in when spirits burst woven,
Aspires for dark healing, sets heart in motion.
When we sieve to embrace light and love,
Let the blissful benison of God deign from above.
Written: March 05, 2023
Cracked Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
It comes as something of surprise.
We need the broken figurines.
the malice we expressed,
the heart forever bound in cords
constricting its magnificence.
It seems
the pure, transcendant, holy orb
that shines above the saints
cannot be dealt with quite so well
as grief and pain of loss,
as ashes on our foreheads,
or the sacrament of penitence.
Chagirned though I may be
to prize the fragments packed away
in tissued boxes, just
to call upon until the years thin out
and memories themselves are jewels
I am beguiled by them,
and sifted through the fingers of my mind
these worthless shards
encased in dusty time
at last surcease their cries
for they are mine alone,
and in this pageant of the years, I find
that I need play no more
the cumbrous role of God.
~
Small Love~An Ocean
to gain trust
of a wild heart
even so small
as a Chipmunk
a grace
a benison
bestowed by the goddess
who took pity
upon this fools soul.
There is a sliver of the dawn
upon the earth and sky,
as escort to the sun that speeds the day
and will not let it die....that rushes forth
aggressively upon the penitence of night.
So is the love that travels on that constancy,
in haste to flood the nether earth
with light arriving as a grace,
that perquisite inborn in all humanity,
and dusty with neglect.
It falls upon us, sweepers of
this cosmic bridal path, to celebrate
a permanent retreat of shadow,
consecrate the razored liberation
of surrender to the dark.
It falls to morning as the benison of day.
Its racing touch upon the sluggish earth
is the pursuer, not the fugitive.
It is the fabled hound of heaven,
its brilliance a progenitor,
an aid to understand
the raging nebulosity of man.
~
A DREAMERS PLIGHT ON JUDGEMENT DAY
Give solely sovereign sway & Masterdom.
The air nimbly & sweetly recommends itself unto my gentle senses
To commend the ingredients of my poisoned chalice.
But this same thing we desire the most
That makes us say 'the one I love the most is the one I hate the most'.
The love that follows us at times is our trouble.
How tender it is to love the babe that milks me?
And make my face vizards to my heart,
Disguising what they are.
False face hide what the false heart knows.
From a dream, I hear a shout; a loud one
But hear it not, the dreamer; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell
For sleep is the cousin of death
Which keeps the face pale as lights thickens,
The crow flies away to the rooky wood.
Nights black agents rouse to their preys.
As a dreamer wakes unannounced from nightmare
And eats his meal in fear
Sleeping in the affliction of those terrible dreams
That shakes him nightly.
The torture of the mind which maketh lie
In restless ecstasy...
My virtues will plead like Angels trumpet-tongued.
Upon the sightless winds
Shall blow the realities (of life) in every eye,
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature gives way to in repose.
Innocence & pity like a naked new born baby
Striding the blast or heavens cherubim riding on an horseback
Then arose to escape the thrills of the instant
Living a coward you ones own esteem.
And I asked: is it nights predominance or days shame?
But knowing where my path leads to; I follow my journey
Even when the dark night strangles my travelling lamp.
Would nature hold God's benison from those
That would make good of bad and friends of foes?
Maybe with vivacious or flushed face, we all go to the grave
After life's fitful fever, we sleep well
And be not disturbed, nothing touches us further.
Just like a possessive man trust are their great grandmothers
He sleeps well not, because six feet of solid earth
Hath not keep her permanently underground.
She would creep out - so many Lazaruses from the grave
But after the dead which goes to peace
And at the end, hears a voice cast from pure gold, calling
Heaven or hell, the book chooses
Even he who was left unwept, untombed,
A rich sweet sight for the hungry birds beholding
Leaves for a permanent and eternal home.
Get set.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©2009.