Best Blue Poems

Below are the all-time best Blue poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of blue poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Blue Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Blue poems are below this new poems list.

Seldom Blue by Lee Sr., James Edward
My Blue Eyed Hero by Wings, Broken
BLACK AND BLUE FRIDAY by lawless, John
OUR BLUE PLANET by Talbot, Mick
Home is blue dust by parker, cs
EYES OF BLUE by Moorman, Curtis
Blue Jays' call by pederson, doug
The blue Ears by Wang, Shmily
Corners Blunt And Blue by Smith, Tim
Beige and blue sky by Gupta, Probir

View all new Blue Poems

The Best Blue Poems

 
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Closer

    The sky resembles the robin's eggshells
                                                      scattered across the ground,

a blue so seemingly infinite                     yet fragile,
cracks running between understanding and madness
 
       complementing each other

as divine truths in their own right
to conquer my mind,
to unhinge the doors,
making it unnecessary to pick rusted locks

      letting thoughts fly free,
                                       releasing love out into the horizon.

If frozen within caged snapshots of mildewed expectations,
      it will surely die,
                 but even so,
  I was willing to strangle it by holding on too tightly.

    
    Until I saw the sky and eggshells today


      Peppered clouds reflected on the water,
                                            paralleling speckles on the eggshells,
                                    remind me of the freckles on your face.

  We need to be wide-open-free,
                                                we need to fly,
         without focusing too hard on shells of yesterdays.

We need to unclench our fists,
unclench our tongues,
explore the vast blue peppered sky 
                                                 
                                                      on wings of letting go....

 so that we can once again feel with purity,       
 so that we can hold each other ever closer.







05.24.12


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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Remember Me

Remember me... A fresh sweet scent of last gardenia on yesterday's linen sheets Remember me... A cherry bud in your backyard orchard revealing first pink shades in once upon a soft blown kiss Remember me... An early summer sharing your beach towel and coconut butter Remember me... A roaring log fire on a stormy night in the hallway to your bedroom door Remember me... a short~lived star that fallen into your arms then faded to nothingness upon the empty shore. Remember me ... The blissful moment The saddest song in your forevermore


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014



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Whispers In The Morning

Whispers in the morning
trying to find your way
listen to the bluebird
and what she has to say

The notes are soft and gentle
every one is played for you
the sounds of sweet ambrosia
her feelings ringing true

On painted limbs of sage brush
there's a stillness in the air
love beads are melting
and the bluebird disappear

Whispers in the morning
what once was there is gone
empty is the meadow
off has flown her song


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017

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Daddy

Daddy

Daddy, why did you go away?
Don't you know I wanted you to stay!

Daddy, when you left mom,
Don't you know you left me too?
Now all I do is cry and cry
--- I want to die!

Daddy, mommy say's it's better this way,
What does she know!
They're not enough band-aids to cover up the blues
Mom's kisses can't heal this kind of pain.

Daddy, I look around 
No one stands in your garage
Daddy, You took every tool
Except the hammer and sitting stool
Daddy, I still miss you 
--- I love you. 
***
Dear Daddy, I'm all grown up now
Haven't seen you since I was 10

Daddy, I sit on your favorite chair,
No longer do I miss the way you caressed my hair.
Daddy, I'm taking the old hammer and this BRAND NEW saw,
It's time to patch all the holes mom punched in the wall 
*The day you walked out on us*
Daddy, don't worry about the times I tripped and fell
Mom found someone to fix  the loose boards,
Got tired of scraping my knees 

Daddy, I finally realized I'm okay,
I agree with mom, it's better this way.

by- Not every dad is great (but step-dad YES!)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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BLUE OCTOBER

Introducing: Leonora Galinta & Poet Destroyer

I was awoken by the effulgent smiles of sunlight 
Dancing on my window pane with great delight 
A jovial repartee of birds: I didn’t sleep last night 
Waiting for my love under the gleaming moonlight 
“Till I heard their melodies of a glorious morning sight 

In my blue gown, I run up the verdant hills 
What an enchanting view, so mesmerized …I stand still 
A gentle breeze wraps its arms all over me, down my heel 
Tingling my deepest sensations, great passion I feel 
October Breeze just arrived, dancing with flowers …I kneel 
***
Savoring the moment passing by ...I listen
The wind whispers -- watching leaves as they glisten
On this day, a beautiful October Lullaby of life is written
The squirrels outside -on this night - seem quite smitten
Another dreamy tune under the blue moon's transition

Dancing my way down the verdant hill, under the sun
I run with joy, into the arms of the majestic one
The passion I feel describes fall's adventure just begun
Intoxicated by the blossoms ...I stand still, in a silent shun
Dreaming and romancing with my love Blue October

~A Poet Destroyer collaboration~
   A tribute and birthday Gift 
   TO: LEONORA GALINTA 
   Happy Birthday 


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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Toddler Sky

-Toddler Sky-

Down where I sleep, 
You hold me, embrace my every way
The Marks up on my skin
You caress, taking away from the ugliness

Watching the simple breath, when I breathe
Breaking the ice, soothing my inner peace
A sweet spray across the paleness in my limbs
Holding the warmth, I've been loved throughout my life.
From picking up sticks to the walking stick
My loving dear I know you will always be there
A few wheel chairs, when broken bones mend
You know my every cure*
Walk with me across the hall
Through the oldness, and the boldness of every color in the sky
Thank you for taking me as I am
A light twinkle' every time I feel the colors of the rainbow drip
Now a newborn takes his form
In you I find the strength to stretch my arms and reach for every star

When happy moments fail, 
I embraced the colors I found in you
I make out every tree, and wonder why and how?
I close my eyes to imagine the fun of chasing fireflies
Tonight I'm keeping my prayers simple, cute, and innocent
I will count sheep and search for sweet lullaby dreams
Smiling like a 3 year old this very moment, 
You think I'm having "Baby Blues."
My loving dear, thanks for having patience,
Painting my way down a toddlers sky
Every time  "P M S" hits

~SKAT~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013

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The colors of Happy

I am the painter of happy
Traveling along life's dark streets
listening for the beat
Feeling hidden colors with my feet

I see the beauty 
beyond the dark
I'm floating within this concrete park
leaving my mark
Playing tag with a can of paint
My art is vibrant 
I won't settle for faint
What you see as ugly
it truly aint

I'm not afraid of dingy places
I let colours flow outside the lines
My choices are different kinds
Injecting a symphony between life's spaces 
Color removing tear drop traces
Grey shades this paint erases
I see possibilities in others faces

Finger painting
or with a brush
I make the concrete blush
Beauty awakened with my touch
I love the power of yellow
If you are down
or feeling mellow
I just might be the right kinda fellow 
My flavors are sweet like jello

Within these hands
I wield a rainbow
My tools, stardust and ultra glow 
From my bowl
I pour happy on your soul
Until your own light begins to show
Watch me move quick
when others are slow
Wrapping amazing 
with a platinum bow

Let me paint you
a different kinda blue
bright skied Technicolor 
the perfect one for you
A bubblegum happy kinda chew
Grab life and dance
do what you want to do
Choices many
don't settle for so few

I can paint you
A penny for your thoughts
help you realize just what you've got
Be the dreamer
it will help a lot 
Choose exciting
a life that's red hot
Forget Generic
there is more to be got
Let others choose boring 
what I offer 
can't be store bought

I'll hand you a brush
we can cover more ground
flower squirting
big footed clowns
Spreading happy around
that joyful sound
Multi colored 
me and you
Unconventional freedom bound
our happy can astound!
What was lost 
its been refound
Time to open these eyes
happy colors surround
You too can see
just have to look around!





Although I know you prefer 30 lines or less, I hope this happy piece will still qualify.







Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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Just One Touch Of Your Hand

Just one touch of your hand and I taste the late evening stars It would help me forget the last sound of poured rain yet it makes me remember those undying sparks Just one touch of your hand and I live once again in moonlit yesterdays I'd belong to that time When you came in my life Looked me straight in the eyes and rekindled old flames Just one touch of your hand and you're mine You're mine and mine alone You're the breeze on my cheek the smile in my sleep You're the feeling I feared yet a feeling I need all along You're the present and past You're the dew in the dust You're the moment,the memory You're mild passions once born An emotion's serenity. Just one touch of your hand makes this heart understand that the sun would never be gone Its never too late to reach heaven's gate To whisper I love yous as I place a blue rose on your marbled headstone.
Just a note-Absence or death are not the end of love but only the beginning of a feeling that is deeper than love itself... And I have loved you more than love itself.. a fiction poem


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

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Gold Star

I remember as a young boy, going out to play, I would sometimes see old Mr. Kimball, sitting on the steps of his porch, often reading the paper. World War II was in full swing so the newspapers and radios were avidly sought out for the latest news.  Mr. Kimball was a fireman, and probably not even that old, but he seemed that way to me.

Sometimes, he would invite me to sit with him and we would talk about everything and nothing.  I loved spending time with him because, he was the only grown up I knew that took the time to entertain the mind of a young boy.

In his front window hung a small flag. It had a red border surrounding a white field, upon which there were two blue stars.  I was always curious about it, so I asked him what it was.  He said “It's a Sons in Service flag.  One star for each son serving.  You remember my boys don't you?”  I did of course.  Chuck, the oldest, used to tease me, calling me a sissy to get a reaction.  Bobby was a couple of years younger, and the bike I was riding once had been his.

Mr. Kimball went on to explain how Chuck was now in the Army and fighting in France.  Bobby was in the Navy, aboard a ship somewhere in the Pacific.  He didn't say it, but I'm sure he was worried about both, communications being what they were back then.

One day, when I was walking over to see him, I noticed that the flag had changed.  It now carried one blue star, but the other one was gold.  With the innocence that comes of being a child, I asked what the gold star meant.  He quietly said “It means Chuck is coming home”, and without further comment, he turned and went in the house.

A couple of days later, I saw a hearse pull up to the Kimballs house, and four men carry a flag draped box up the porch steps.  That is the moment the meaning of war came to a small boy.  I knew Chuck was home.


Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2012

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The Bluest Rose

To one who stands alone my long gaze goes. How dignified she poses here, and quite unique and lovely is the bluest rose! Apart from where one very large bush grows so lush with other roses pink and bright, to one who stands alone my long gaze goes. Some lavender upon her petals shows its hue of dreams and mystical delight! Unique and lovely is the bluest rose. Above the bush of blues, when a breeze blows, She dwarfs them all, face lifting to the light. To one who stands alone my long gaze goes. The trials she has weathered, no one knows but I alone; I know her secret plight. Unique and lovely is the bluest rose. As purple streaks the sky, life’s fast pace slows, and day begins to drift into the night. To one who stands alone my long gaze goes. Unique and lovely is the bluest rose. Written June 13, 2016 for the Villanelle Me A Flower or Flowers - Poetry Contest of Broken Wings


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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Unbearable Beauty in Blue

Standing on a mountain peak
I find myself surrounded 
by a breezy cerulean sky.
How peaceful and restful 
is heaven’s hue.
Nature has breathed her essence on me.

Later I bathe in deep aqua blue
and again I am amazed.
How soothing and serene
is nature’s watery embrace.
How warm the caress 
of this tropical sea.

Midnight’s blue has found me now.
My soul is imbued with tranquility
as I stand again on the mountain peak
gazing up at an indigo immensity
where myriads of diamonds
glitter unbearable beauty to me.
How wonderful all of it is.


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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Never Out of Season - A Short Story

     I was wiping the dust off an old snow globe in the upstairs attic, when a mop of honey-blonde hair suddenly appeared through the wooden flooring.
     "I thought I'd find you here," said the voice, warm and feminine. It was a lovely contrast to the thoughts that bloomed inside my head. The little red Santa smiling gaily, his gloved hand forever frozen in a wave. Truth be told it was over a hundred degrees outside, and up here in this cobweb-ridden place (by God) was practically unbearable.
     But as I lightly shook the fragile keepsake I found myself dashing through the snow like I once did so many years ago. I heard the sound of high pitched laughter from afar, out in the sultry day (most likely the neighbor kids playing tag through a sprinkler-soaked lawn). But there, at that precise moment, I was taking the road before me, and singing a chorus or two.
     "You miss him don't ya?" the voice broke me out of my thoughts, and for a moment I just stared at her as if she had a left over piece of spinach in her teeth. I nodded quietly in the silence and rubbed the smooth curvature of the glass with my thumb. It somehow felt cold, as if winter wonderland was still trapped inside.
     I knew I hadn't stayed too long, though I knew my wife would be patient throughout this ordeal, however long it took. She didn't need to recite any famous sayings to pick me up, just her being there was enough. It was the unspoken truth between us, and it was always enough.
     "Cody and Angie will be downstairs when you're ready to head out."
     "I'm ready now. I was just doing a little cleaning up." It wasn't quite a lie. It was one of those statements we use to say one thing and mean the other. The attic was "okay", but I knew of more dire things in need of some organization.
     Beth went down the ladder first, naturally. Then it was me, a bit awkwardly, still holding the snow globe. We both came into the living room, where our children sat waiting. Cody was playing some handheld video-game in his Hawaiian swimming trunks. Angie was quietly giggling at something her friend said, via text. Her blue bathing suit was barely more than a strap, and I knew I was this close from losing it. But this was a happy day, so I let it slide, just this once.
     "Are you still not ready?" asked Angie.
     I looked down at my blue work jeans and buttoned-up t-shirt. My wife gave her a fierce look, as if willing her to take back what she said. It didn't really matter though ... my emotions were spent.
     "I was gonna change when we got there," I said, a bit defeated.
     "Whatever." She rolled her eyes and plopped her phone right there on the couch. I just stood there like a lifeless statue, while my family got everything ready to head to the local pool. My wife was as patient as a snail, but the kids bustled about as if they've been down here a lifetime. Cody was mad when Beth took the game-boy from his hand, just before some big important checkpoint. Angie was calling Beth completely unfair for not letting her invite Tom over to come swim as well. My wife told her, "This is a family event, no exceptions, and for Pete's sake, listen to me for just this once!"
     I just stood there, in quiet grief. Their voices were mere sounds, plastic and surreal, and I went along with it as if everything was alright. But it wasn't alright. The world was falling apart all around me, miraculously still turning, and I just stood there! Finally I reached for the doorknob, when I realized I still had the snow globe in my hand.
     I looked at it longingly, with affection, and it came to me. A slightly crazy idea. Not the kind where it's life or death, but the fact that it was a spur of the moment decision, it felt totally crazy. I placed the snow globe on the mantel above the fireplace, where the glass caught the sun just right and the jolly Santa shone a brilliant red.
     Allow me this simple pleasure, I asked God in silence. Let the neighbors gawk and smirk all they want. Let the kids think their father's going senile, thinking it's December and not August. I didn't care. I just watched the little flakes twinkle through out the water-filled dome.
     I displayed it proudly, knowing that good will, kindness and love were never out of season. So I picked myself up out of my gloomy state, got inside the car, and slid into the driver's seat. "Alright, let's go!" I said cheerfully, and everyone looked surprised.
     "Dad, is everything … okay?" asked Cody, from behind. But no answer was necessary. I just smiled, and looked across at Beth without a care in the world.
     And since we've no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.



First Published in Dual Coast Magazine Issue #3

NOTE: I've written a few short stories, but this one is special to me. It was well received by my family, and I was so excited to discover it was accepted by a magazine. It was my first non-poem to be published.


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

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A Choir of Nature

“The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness therein, the world and they that dwell therein” A Psalm of David…
Solitary, I stand upon these ever changing shores Where sun, sea, earth and winds abide Where time and tide flow forevermore In a timeless waltz, as one, they reside Within this glorious setting sits a conspicuous ruin A beautiful church built with mortar and stone Stones carved and laid by hands, gifted and willing And now vast blue skie replace the old wooden dome B'neath sits an altar graced by Morning Glory vines Ascending, yet, to the sun and matching blue skies While fragile walls hugged by bougainvillea climbs Well dressed in their shocking pink and white styles And though silence prevails, I hear a choir of nature sing Melodious chants echoing within these broken walls Where the elements congregate and worship in sync... Transfixed; I kneel in worship and my soul gives its all! ~*~
By: Annalise Brigham For: “The Church by the Ocean” Contest” 09/29/11 *3rd Place


Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2011

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Before the Rain is Gone

She kept it all inside her
and never spoke a word,
though her thoughts flew and darted
like a trapped and frantic bird.

Inside her was a garden
that was hung with Spanish moss,
like the massive oaks were weeping
to remind her of her loss..

The spider wove at breakneck speed,
a perfect work of art,
watching it, she had her doubts
that humans were so smart.

The southern air was sultry
and the sea salt cloyed the skin,
 the yard dogs dug depressions
and the alley cats grew thin.

The black top roads got sticky
when the southern sun beat down
and the heat forever rises
forming monstrous thunderclouds.

When the blue sky rolls and blackens
soon the thunder shakes the ground
and the southern landscape flattens
as the blinding rain pours down.

Nostrils flared, she filled her lungs
with the dank and heady scent
of peat-rich soil, decay and loam,
of lavender and mint.

And in her secret garden,
reptiles raised their faces high,
and blessed the cooling water
that came pouring from the sky.

She loved the iridescence
of the blue-green dragonflies
and marveled at their flying skills
as they went whirring by.

The rain soon turned magnolia leaves
into miniature garden ponds,
there the dragonflies must lay their eggs
before the rain is gone.

Wrens and sparrows chirped and chattered,
they enjoyed the cooling rain,
but the squirrels were wet and grumpy
and the jays were raising Cain.

The girl did not seek cover
and the rain ran down her face,
on her lashes rain drops trembled,
much like crystals gently placed.

The thunder never frightened her
nor did the lightning scare,
to nature she was connected,
to living things, aware.

She lived in every moment,
soon the thunderstorm would end
and the dark earth would start steaming,
then the heat would come again.

Suddenly all fell silent
in her garden of delights,
all living things were quiet
as the steam began to rise.

The gray squirrel broke the silence
and if squirrels could really speak,
she knew he would be cursing,
surely swearing a blue streak.

And then she saw the blue jay
madly pumping out his call,
his angry face was comical
Mohawk feathers standing tall.

She swam the Sea of Apathy
and the Ocean of Ennui,
there the waves upheld her gently,
washing over memories.

And the earthworms turned the soil
in the garden of her mind
and the trees again were weeping
from the echoes left behind.


Copyright © Danielle White | Year Posted 2008

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Out of the Blue

Falling down into
a dense, tangled mood
darker than the skies
at the midnight hour...

Leaving me caught
in infinite space
by hands on the clock
that grasp me and pull
to where the time goes...

Out of the blue
water washes the stagnant clouds 
drop by clear drop
and the persistent wind
brushes them white again.
All the while, specks of light
appear to shine...

Hues mixing as pastels swirl
with shades much deeper,
diluting them down until
the blues begin to fade away...

Thoughts are suspended
for the moment,
only to float in midair
finally free
and out of the blue.






Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2016

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Forgotten By Tomorrow

She stands at the edge of the precipice,
looking down towards her future.
The last tears that she will ever cry,
falling from her eyes, 
then falling into oblivion.
She watches them drop 
as they disappear forever.
Yet, she laughs in the face of death.
Would it really matter if she took the leap?
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

The wind blowing at her back,
pushes her to the edge.
Almost agreeing with her final decision,
and encouraging her to jump.

A thousand thoughts and memories
racing through her mind.

Her first day of school.
Her tenth birthday party.
The lonely, awkward days of her teenage years.
The day she discovered poetry.
The moment she first saw him.
The day she thought that she was worth something.
The day when all of that became a lie.

Every memory 
that never made the pages of a history book.
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

She exists to no one but herself.
In the blink of an eye, she decides her fate.
Her feet leave the ground,
and yet, she did not fall.
Out of nowhere he appeared,
and carefully grabbed her hand.
Pulling her back to reality,
saving her from the brink of disaster.
He held her, as her tears stained his jacket.
Old tears of sadness,
mixed with new tears of happiness.

She was remembered by yesterday.
Before she was forgotten by tomorrow.


Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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Haiku 69-About The Swan Lake

swan lake a feather falls silently


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014

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Gracie's Prayer

Gracies's Prayer  


   
       Amazing Grace, how sweet the taste
          A song I dread up to these days

   Dear Mommy
Mommy, can you hold my hands?
Show me how to make God understand?
Will you hold my hand, like when we would pray, 
maybe then he will listen to the words I say!
How do I ask God, If I can keep you for another day?
I promise this time to pray for you every day

Mommy, please share beautiful words before you say good-bye.
I thank you for the shoes I've grown to love and tie
What am I going to do when I want to talk and be with you?"
Now who's gonna take care of me when I'm feeling blue?

Mommy will you still protect me, when you are gone?"
Defended me, no matter the trouble I will put myself in.
You always explained the reasons why I was here.
You also taught me, how to face my fears away
Now how am I going to find my way home?
Are you still going to whisper words, saying "I'M NOT ALONE!"

Mommy why is everyone offering their sympathy?
No one compares to your supportive heart when it came to me.
Mommy, can you make the suffering stop?
Don't you know you are all I got
Mommy, I have no cure for what is in you
All I can offer is what is in me. 
I want to go and outside and play, with you
Hold my hand and take me with you to the other-side.
The place you spoke of when it came to Amazing Grace.
Your new sweet surrender resting place.

*** Mom I'm here to visit you again.
A place where baskets are offered by family and friends.
Mom, can I stay here forever with you?
Hold me the way you use too.
Mom, to you I sing a lullaby  of praise
Mommy, can you hear me?

                    (ending  metaphor)
Digging deep into the ground, 
There and only there can you be found.
One last breath shared with the open skies.
Mommy, can I go with you?

*to my mom*

By: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

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My Tricycle -

~My Tricycle~

Christmas  eve,
I could not help but peek.

There it was, a blue and pinkish bike.
With streamers all for me...

A ride, I wanted to feel inside.
A surprise, I ruined for my eyes.
The joy I felt, a naughty kid like me could not hide.

Running back into my room, jumping with glee. 

Waiting and waiting...............................................

Christmas day, comes to life.
I'm all excited.. With the biggest grin...
Mommy walks me to my bike.
My grin slowly fades away.
A red tricycle, I start to cry.

I did not understand, why my older sister got the pretty bike.
My Christmas, ruined by a ruby red tricycle.

Mommies, hug did not comfort me.
I cried all night, and asked my daddy'
"How can this be?"
"It's not fair!"
"it's not fair!"

Daddy, had only one response..
"Sweetie, soon you will see."

New Years Eve**

I sit near the windowpane.
Staring at my sister ride her blue pinkish bike.
Even the streamers were laughing at me.

Night fall comes around..
It's cold and everyone is asleep.

I sneak my way into the barn. 
I stare at it~
My sisters bike!
The smile on my face, I still can't erase.
"This bike will be mine tonight."

I grab the bike by the handles bars.
I walk the bike under the stars. 

Two hours pass, and still I can't operate the pedals.
Finally I remove my shoes, and reach the pedals with my toes.
I'm off into the night, than suddenly I fell upon them rocks.
If only I waited for that push from daddy's hands.

:To Be Continued:


Lesson not learned,
My scars all accounted for.



Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

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- When Dreams Runs Out -


Warming thoughts cannot heal
In between those moments of words

When thought are not enough
My feet are shaking as I fall on my knees 

But my prayer was heard
I has no dreams left

Listening closely to the melody of life  
Into my failing grace, again I would follow life music

You've made my heart beat once again
and the sorrow in my soul existed in vain

A new step on the journey has begun
The storm gave birth to a rainbow




23.01.2015 
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved



Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

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Snowflakes Melt Our Paper Hearts

Too many cold nights would follow these hours FIrst frost will destroy the blooming moonflowers Because,WInter goes and WInter comes Snowflakes melt our paper hearts I want to preserve moments before they' ll be the past I just want to hold you and make each second last I want to taste your sweet words breathing velvets on my lips I want to feel your kisses treading softly on my hips I need to hear your lyrics whispered in my ear I want to let my hair down cascading on your tear I want to beg for your love Be fondled by your touch Want you to give me butterflies Tickle and make me blush I don' t want to make memories But you won't be here One day I'd call your name pretending you're still there Too many cold nights would follow these hours FIrst frost will destroy the blooming moonflowers Because,WInter goes and WInter comes Snowflakes melt our paper hearts Wet rain will cover palm prints in the forgotten sand New fingers trace your laugh lines where I no longer stand Stars wouldn't recall our waltz dance and places that we've been They won't remember falling in once upon a dream


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

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Cornflower Blue

(a conversational collaboration with Christine Ueri)



"remember the dream I had when we were 10?
(waves and waves of cornflowers everywhere)
about the boy and the closet?
(sunflowers, circle, glass house?....closet, yes)
cornflower blue
(the closet was cornflower blue?)
the light in that dream was cornflower blue
(the air, the atmospheric light?)
yes, especially in the closet

I had that dream for so long
I'll never forget
little boy blue and the kingfishers --
the blue and white china plates
with the bridge and the lovers; the two doves in the willow tree,
that made me look for japanese letters....horse.
 
the funny things we do as children

(you are writing a poem....)
catch the words, my love
(you already wrote a poem up there; bridge it together --
I dried cornflowers with dandelions in a blue and white book; but it wasn't a dream.
Well, in a way it was, because at the time, I was floating in the clouds)

he wore a blue and white striped top in my dream

and I remember him
when I look at the sky,
the clouds and the golden sun --

I caught the words!
(yes! did you string them all together?)

not yet!"



                                                                                 
                                                                                



August 29th, 2012




Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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In the Harem of the Flower Kisser

at the break of dawn a Hummingbird starts his rounds Morning Glory sought flaunting a red hue - Mexican Sunflower tempts looking hot, hot, hot the Don Juan of birds sucking nectar from Beardtongue. . . drunk on French kisses Goldenrod at noon. . . Zephyr carries a sweet scent beneath a gold sun between Rose bushes the Flower Kisser gets lost in Blue Infinity Sweet Pea and Bee Balm entice with purple petals. . . Bees join the orgy Monarchs swarm in droves when blue Hummingbird alights on Butterfly Bush Evening Primrose waving in the dusk’s last breeze. . . the proper lover the Flower Kisser leaves his harem sated as white Moonflower glows *The capitalized names for flowers represent some of the most popular flowers visited by hummingbirds.


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

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Love Is Not And Love Is

Love is a small big word Many times written but easily mispelled All ears can hear it All eyes can read it but few will feel it Only the special ones will understand this four letter word which makes all the difference when we walk hand in hand.


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014

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Sweetly Sings

Medicine of this soul faraway with a dream seventh Heaven looking across a sea
the other night went for a walk strolling against a cold wind distant thoughts

Crying seagulls on the beach looking around even snow lying in the sand 
it was quite an awakening cold cutting ice wind blowing across the brow

Listening to the echoing roars crunching of great cliffs tasting salted air
waves crashing thunder I thought of you as the surf sprayed on shores
 
Oh the moon as the winds howl laying golden whispers your name landing wishes fall on a star sparkling beams Heaven you came to me under a crystal blue white light 

An angel fallen who found one miracle lost in this world drunken in the chalice of love 
each drop dripping passion adoring loves beauty forever and always


Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015