Best Bronzed Poems
A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves
Whose rusting hue,
Momentarily ignited by stray
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives with all the colours of a
Rainbow...
From vibrant red through to shy
Hints of indigo;
Those vague outlines indicating
Receding hills;
Here, arising, long ago, every waking
Dawning,
The creaking structures
Of groaning and imposing mills;
Soon a slow thawing that quickly
Spills
Into the trickling replenishments
Of many gushing and silvery little
Rills.
Enchantment gripped me!
And I found myself wistfully
Thinking...
Maybe, perhaps, maybe, somewhere,
Just behind where the great
Flattening Orb
Is now rapidly shrinking,
That I might, by perchance, find,
If I did so hope to bravely dare,
To happen upon a hidden and
Sedentary way of life up there?
That, forgotten, has turned its
Back on the social conflicts
Plagued by the curses of ingrained
Vice;
Encumbering a soul with its petty
Squabblings,
Imposing upon with demands and
Avarice...
When placing unnecessary burdens
On a honest bodies daily call
Of grinding toil and wearisome
Strife!
And still stood,
With hands outstretched upon the
Painted sill,
At the waist half-bent,
Now troubled by quiet mutterings
In an inexplicable sorts
Of self-imposed discontent,
My staid consciousness almost
Unawares,
As, momentarily distracted,
I hesitated, and, unseeing,
Inattentively stared...
Until...
A ragged chapter of cawing Daws,
Loudly jabbering overhead,
Suddenly wheeled -
And upwardly soared!
Whereupon, in murderous haste,
Awkwardly fled
When laboriously stealing away
Back inside the stubbled fields...
Thus causing me to slowly straighten;
Whilst, with a singular heartfelt pang,
Liken a moorland mist slowly rolling
Over
That indivisibly conceals...
Drew shut the sullen curtains, which,
Heavily embroidered with indeterminate
finality,
Dejectedly hang...
Each draped aside of the cold
Reveals.
Categories:
bronzed, life,
Form:
Rhyme
In Dreams, Her Spirit Sallied Forth: with Lin Lane
Through frigid months, she waited for Spring rains
to give relief and ease heartbroken pains,
Nature will award that which Life commands
placing her true love, in its gentle hands.
O'sweet promise of passion's fine delights,
candlelight dinners and intimate nights.
With eager dreams her spirit sallied forth.
Away from winter's chill, in the far North.
Countless, were the eventides spent in dread
Praying he'd stay safe 'fore lying abed
She wished on stars in darkened Winter skies
as tears pooled in her melancholy eyes
Arctic winds blustered; through tall pines they'd blow,
layers of oceans, in white waves of snow
In Wintry dreams, her spirit sallied forth.
Away from winter's chill, of the far North.
Pictures sent from her beau, her Southern man
whose dashing looks, deep blue eyes and bronzed tan,
had her heart remembering their first kiss
Without regret, love said, "Hold onto this!"
To wake with dawn's sweet warmth, upon her face
would ease her sorrow and heartache erase.
In ardent dreams, her spirit sallied forth.
Beyond the frosty chill of the far North.
She brushed her hair, raven tresses fell
Her firelight shadow evidenced the swell
Softly, she hummed, cradling her unborn child
A motherly instinct that brought forth a smile
Having a babe, they had both long revered
That he'd be back in time, she deeply feared.
With anxious dreams, her spirit sallied forth.
Further from winter's chill of the far North.
She was haunted by his voice in a dream
and awoke with the sound of her own scream
Rain, her companion, on an April morn
Pains let her know their child would soon be born
Alone, she prayed that she'd know what to do
In the door strode a man; eyes of deep blue.
No longer a dream, her man had come forth
To deliver their child in the far North.
11-01- 2018
Thank you for writing with me yet again after such a long break my friend. Your invitation to do another collaboration was a great gift and a blessing given to me. I sincerely appreciate such great kindness as well as your great advice given on poetry/editing. As such shows great talent and true poetic heart. You magnificent verses makes this a truly golden poem.
God bless always..
Categories:
bronzed, appreciation, art, creation, marriage,
Form:
Rhyme
Through frigid months, she waited for Spring rains
to give relief and ease heartbroken pains,
Nature will award that which Life commands
placing her true love, in its gentle hands.
O'sweet promise of passion's fine delights,
candlelight dinners and intimate nights.
With eager dreams her spirit sallied forth.
Away from winter's chill, in the far North.
Countless, were the eventides spent in dread
Praying he'd stay safe 'fore lying abed
She wished on stars in darkened Winter skies
as tears pooled in her melancholy eyes
Arctic winds blustered; through tall pines they'd blow,
layers of oceans, in white waves of snow
In Wintry dreams, her spirit sallied forth.
Away from winter's chill, of the far North.
Pictures sent from her beau, her Southern man
whose dashing looks, deep blue eyes and bronzed tan,
had her heart remembering their first kiss
Without regret, love said, "Hold onto this!"
To wake with dawn's sweet warmth, upon her face
would ease her sorrow and heartache erase.
In ardent dreams, her spirit sallied forth.
Beyond the frosty chill of the far North.
She brushed her hair, raven tresses fell
Her firelight shadow evidenced the swell
Softly, she hummed, cradling her unborn child
A motherly instinct that brought forth a smile
Having a babe, they had both long revered
That he'd be back in time, she deeply feared.
With anxious dreams, her spirit sallied forth.
Further from winter's chill of the far North.
She was haunted by his voice in a dream
and awoke with the sound of her own scream
Rain, her companion, on an April morn
Pains let her know their child would soon be born
Alone, she prayed that she'd know what to do
In the door strode a man; eyes of deep blue.
No longer a dream, her man had come forth
To deliver their child in the far North.
Thank you for opening the door to me for this write, Robert. It began on a cold Winter night, but Spring rains brought with it, a new beginning. Writing with you is like opening a treasure chest of beautiful gemstones.
Categories:
bronzed, loneliness, love,
Form:
Rhyme
There’s endless miles of golden sandy beaches
Sparkling aqua waters as far as the eye can see
Gods and Goddesses frolic au naturel down under
Here’s where Heaven shines her light down on me
If you foolishly swim between the danger red line zones
See a shark coming ‘HELP ME’! - You wildly scream
Well worth the SAVE in those bronzed muscly arms
Spunky Aussie life guards straight out of your dream
Women glow and men become fit- lean and taut
Any wonder that all thoughts get thrown asunder
Rippling muscles flex- bronzed bodies like gods
I come from the ‘green and gold land down under’
Spoiled for choice - Raw possibilities endless
No need to lust silently pining after one
Pick yourself up look around broken sparrow
This must surely be Gods place in the sun
Nothing comes close to the beer down under
Accompanied by a vegemite sandwich or two
Looking for something more gourmet and exotic?
There’s crocodile and kangaroo to name but a few
A land where every man resides like a King
And women are fawned over - treated like Queens
We don’t let sneezes and hay fever spoil things
If you have the sniffles - Hey! there’s Claratyne
This land where millionaires are made in a day
If you push the limits to achieve lofty goals
So don’t keep waiting to come on down under
Where our worth is what defines our roles
* ‘Living in a land Down Under
Where women glow and men plunder
Can’t you hear, can’t you hear the thunder,
You better run you better take cover’
Oops!! that verse sounds like it may be lines from the song 'Land Down Under' by 'Men at Work'. Might be seen as plagiarism. Sorry!! Couldn’t help myself!!
Instrumental of ‘Men at Work’ - by Joh Ph
Published on Jul 31, 2016 You Tube
* Quoted reference and citation of original lyrics of above verse from 'Land Down Under' belongs to 'Men At Work' first released October 1981 -
Songwriters: Colin James Hay / Ronald Graham Strykert.
Categories:
bronzed, beach, lust, satire, vacation,
Form:
Rhyme
Armed with chainsaws in the field, two young men are shirtless guests
with shoulders bronzed by sun and sweat.
The timbre in the August sun has scattered birds and stirred unrest
The tree they'll slay has leaves of gold,
lacing branches frail and old, - but now its time is spent
Rising from his afghan nest, a man peers out the window glass
to witness as the death unfolds.
As one who brought the seedling home, he waits to see the giant fall
He holds his breath, but not his tears. Age and illness hems the years.
And just as earth might moan in pain, the tree comes tumbling down
There was a day, not long before, ....before his war began
Back then he could lift a saw like that, ..hold it skillfully, carefully, casually
Angle down, - angle up, - cut a wedge, - hear it crack
Now there's pathos in dust-driven clouds
that shadows an earth that has lost its sun
It trembles now to catch its breath.
And branch by branch it lays to rest the leaves of courage, a golden crest,
that was shelter, home, a fortress blessed, a place to lean to find solace
A tree, ... nor a man cannot be defined
by disease, confinement, by age or time
A tree falls down. It is nature's plan
to open the field, while clearing the land
What came before, grows new today,
The void that's left cannot be filled,
and tears we shed cannot be stilled
His leave will make a louder sound
The dust will rise. Trees burn to ash
What matters most is never lost
Oh yes, how it shatters the fragile heart!
Oh God, how it matters, how could it not?
- But, the man and the tree have earned a rest
____________________________________________________________
6/6/17
Categories:
bronzed, bereavement, brother, goodbye, how
Form:
Free verse
Out in a pretty meadow running free,
where laughing, we fall down in the clover,
or even better, down beside the sea
watching as the brilliant sun sets over
the village that we have been visiting -
a quaint idyllic European place.
I picture it is summer or late spring
because the sun has bronzed your handsome face.
And somewhere else I want so much to go -
upon a cruise with such fun things to do -
stop at exotic spots or see a show
aboard the ship, then eat and dance till two.
It matters not the place so much as this -
I want to go someplace that we can kiss!
March 12, 2017 for Nicola Byrne's Where I Want to Go Contest
Categories:
bronzed, places,
Form:
Sonnet
He had waited for her, all his life.
All she desired was to stay in his arms,
to awaken each day in embrace.
All she needed was the love he bled,
to last every minute of her lifetime -
but tomorrow he would be gone.
His goodbye, cut her like a knife – deeply.
He was trembling inside, but remained calm.
This was his final night with his beloved,
last time they would enjoy each other.
Carnal desires flamed – the final seduction,
like two caged beasts set free.
In pure silence, he could hear her tears falling,
as he touched her, she moved away in sorrow.
He held her hand – delicately kissing her tears,
his mouth a soothing oasis for her waterfalls.
As his subtle tongue soothed her heartbreak,
a flame kindled in her eyes, igniting his soul.
Her tender tongue, opened the door to ecstasy
as tongues danced with lips locked in passion.
He was the curator to her flower garden
and he knew this was his final masterpiece.
His last chance to show his lover – the love he held,
for all he yearned, was her unconditional love.
He removed her clothes, without pausing for breath,
seductively he explored her bronzed olive skin.
Worshipping his Goddess with attentive devotion.
Lost in nirvanic utopia, she opened to him,
as he lost himself, inside her flowergarden.
The night was filled with lovers dancing in paradise.
Breathless moments, hearts rapidly beating.
Two bodies illuminated in sizzling hot intense excitement.
But, when she opened her jaded brown eyes,
he was gone, leaving a note -
promising to love her till the end of time.
The Silent One
Originally written 17 January 2016
Reposted 7 February 2018
Categories:
bronzed, passion, sensual,
Form:
Prose
I'd bloomed from the warm glow in his eyes.
He had been my sunlight when darkness loomed.
His arms protected me, for he was my safe haven,
but too soon, the light faded from his hazel eyes,
and his voice, a gasp when drawing a breath.
His life was pilfered by Death, the morbid thief.
Stolen from us were Utopian days of splendor.
The painful loss is a burden I must endure,
uncertain of how I will face tomorrow alone.
I wept in silence until the bronzed edge of twilight
chased prisms of light from pastel skies.
A shroud of gloom veiled the wound in my heart
as I felt the gatekeeper gently touch my arm.
Layers of cold black earth now separated us.
I still held the red rose I'd brought for his coffin.
Streaks of tears washed blush from my cheeks,
while I shivered in fear without his hand to hold.
I was years older since morning had dawned,
wilting like the spray of lilies, heads drooping.
They were withered and dying, their beauty lost.
Once vibrant and sweet, their fragrance fading,
they lie on a grave for which they were grown.
On alabaster marble, my finger traced his name,
wishing love's affliction could somehow be rescinded.
I was at the impasse where life and death collide.
I stood, but left my crushed red rose on the chair,
for unable was I to whisper 'goodbye.'
February 5, 2021
Break My Heart, Why Don't Cha Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Categories:
bronzed, death, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
Where is the secret of the rainbow?
At the edge of one's own life?
Whence does it come, with those lovely pastel colours?
Is it a heavenly art or a mere human illusion?
Some form of an ancient creative masterpiece?
Perhaps expressionism was reassessed?
The spiritual in natural art is oft-forgotten
in musty mists, where the soul engages
in confrontations with the deadly reaper.
The appalling midst of winter intensifies in the freeze,
and the psychology of death deepens,
for we are too much attached to worldly cares.
Characteristic emotions in cowardly conflicts.
One can say so very few words about
the astute business of a measured life,
like autumn's falling bronzed leaves,
its face value is not easily perceived;
for dead leaves turn into compost,
no peaceful transition true, but a must
that leads and helps life's renewal in spring.
Forget the troubled dream of dreary life,
let the seasons daub their watercolours bold and free,
the rainbow assigns a variety of mellow hues,
chooses always the brightest.
For the secret of the rainbow
a symbol of new hope lies in its Creator.
Categories:
bronzed, rainbow,
Form:
Free verse
It was the bronzed bell of a tinseled Ocean ship.
Until destiny was scuttled by a fiery water witch.
In time, it became the haunting clang upon a reef.
A macabre Nic Nac for cliques that ruled the deep.
They returned like blue birds, lonely for a blossoming.
To pay homage to every sailor overtaken by the sea.
They lay bouquets of flowers, over shadowed grief...
as ghosts pared sweet memories into paper effigies.
Between shuffles of worn decks and ninety proof lips.
They spin tales of crimson seas and horrible dorsal fins...
Torn hearts and sails, forever on a starboard list
Drifting between a blue refrain and the salty mist.
In the graying vein of time, everything's forgotten.
The sweet angelic, the mundane, the eternally rotten.
Gravestones hoard salt within their granite cracks.
Tokens to a time when auroras bled into blackness.
One by one the crew will drift from this pearled realm.
Riding TradeWinds into the gilded scented heavens...
or becoming driftwood, in the brackish heart of hell...
as the captain sways to the clang of his beloved water bell.
Categories:
bronzed, grief,
Form:
Rhyme
I remember how you looked that day,
How happy, young and free.
Your sun bleached hair, your sun bronzed skin,
I watched you from the lea.
You never saw me standing there.
I'm glad it stayed that way.
We never spoke, we never met,
But I came every day.
I came to watch you cast your net.
You were my mystery man.
I whiled away the live long day,
Watching from the sand.
You seemed to have all you could need,
The surf, a boat, a net.
I close my eyes and click my heels,
And I can see you yet.
Categories:
bronzed, memory, romantic,
Form:
Quatrain
The seashore is a wondrous stage, for in the sun's delight,
I sit and watch a play unfold- it's there within my sight!
Those beauties, young with golden tans, demurely sashay by
In search of those admiring eyes that peep so deft and sly.
While young dudes with their virile forms and sun-bleached wavy hair,
Strut back and forth so confident with sort of haughty air.
Small children, filling up their pails, build castles made of sand,
While fathers take a break from rest to lend a helping hand.
And mothers being what they are- in their protective lots,
Are ever rubbing suntan cream on freckled, sunburned tots.
Those chunky mid-life guys and gals packed tight in swim attire
Add so much fullness to the scene, for those to see, admire!
And oldsters wrapped up tight and snug to shield from wind and sun,
With eyes shut under hats of straw, in dreamland have their fun!
At water's edge, the tame are found, waves rolling at their feet;
While further out, some brave the swells to make their fun complete.
And there, up high on pedestals, bronzed lifeguards oversee
With ever watchful, cautious eyes, the shore's activity.
And here I sit, a spectator, relaxed this summer day-
But, am I too a character to those who look my way?
April 20, 2015
Premiere Contest: My Favorite Vacation In Rhyme
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
Categories:
bronzed, beach, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Amassed in flamboyant Azalea blooms when my garden is free of the cold.
Bird of Paradise, dressed in purple and orange, wear their colors so bold.
Crocus bloom when the mounds of snow finally melt and say, "Goodbye."
Daffodils display delightful faces and seem to be greeting me with a, "Hi."
Easter Cactus in pink and salmon, adds bursts of color in hanging pots.
Favorite in my garden are the carpets of romantic little Forget-Me-Nots.
Gardenia shrubs line my walkways with sweetest scent to tempt the bees.
Hyacinths are compact flowers on a single stem, but cause me to sneeze.
In early Spring my beds of Irises trumpet that a new season has begun.
Jasmine on the vine attracts hummingbirds in my garden spots full of sun.
Kerria bushes keep my yard enhanced in shades of chartreuse and gold.
Lily of the Valley is said to bring lots of happiness to the young and old.
Mock Orange, a pretty perfumed flower, prim and proper in purest white.
Nandina, Heavenly Bamboo, have bronzed red leaves of medium height.
Oleander clusters are a riot of color on the end of green foliage so tall.
Peonies add charm and grace in pink pastels all along my garden wall.
Queen of the Prairie in the landscape, reach up to the sun and the sky.
Rusty Foxglove is a late Spring perennial, I find very pleasing to the eye.
Sharing a treasured vase with them, I will select the lovely Shasta Daisy.
Three Lobe Spirea (Bridal Veil), is so easy to grow it could make me lazy.
Under the shade trees grow Urn Bromiliads, on driftwood from the river.
Verbena is Queen of the rock garden, in shades of burgundy she'll deliver.
Wisteria, in white or lavender, hangs in sadness until it withers away to die.
Xylosma blooms in masses of berries, in hedge rows of separation they lie.
Yarrow's blossoms are medicinal, likes dry soil and an occasional drought.
Zesty Zephyr Lily can grow in the wild but it's one I could never do without.
{April 23rd, 2016 ~ Shadow Hamilton's "Spring Flowers" Contest}
Categories:
bronzed, beauty, flower, spring, daffodils,
Form:
Abecedarian
Spring
A refresh of rain, falling down on them all
Un-quenching each leaf with tilt refrain
Linden shaped blossoms in spring do install
Such beautiful heaven that no one can maim
The burst of an orange, a tulip in bloom
Infusion of flowers, by meadow's festoon
The shine of an orchid, ever so stark,
It stays on my mind, long after dark
The Rose brings her beauty, as I swift appraise
And summer goes trailing with fever, her blaze
Summer
Heat waves arrive, wearing red flaming scarves
Bronzed cherub angels, by cool fountain spout
Yellow kissed flowers by summer's head count
The dahlias in love, with passions, don't starve
Bikinis and tank tops with summer tanned legs
Atop the hot board walk, skip trampling keds
Bleach blonds and ravens in tune with the fair
Coasters and bolsters and times without care
It's all in the season of sunshine and thrills
Where fireworks burst, o'er emerald hills!
Autumn
The seasons pass as my eyes behold
Soft change in hues when bending limbs grow bare
As colored leaves turn brown begin to fold
To finally scatter into Autumn's air
These days remembered on a road of leaves
Traveling aspen groves ablaze in gold
A Winter's chill before the Autumn grieves
Reminds that all life ends before its cold
And calls in voice its yearly subtle dance
As songs from birds now give a quiet note
While those in love hope colors will enhance
To feel chill from Winter when color dies
To bless the fallen leaves with sadder eyes
Winter
The Winter's cold comes dressed in velvet white
And spills its unique flakes upon the Earth
Scenes of beauty calm, open eye's delight
And cleanse the ground before the Spring's rebirth
I'll walk upon the freshest fallen snow
And see the trail of prints I leave behind
While knowing it reveals the path I go
I'll make a snowy Angel some will find
To cross the banks of white where depth is low
And sit among the quiet, Winter's brought
To see the landscape clean with softest glow
Shall bring to me another gentle thought
I'll lift my eyes to find a pictured scene
And marvel at the white that is pristine
written by Mystic Rose & Frederic Parker
9/20/14
Categories:
bronzed, seasons,
Form:
Sonnet
Big Cypress stirs, heated by Miccosukee
sky hung in spun gold. Rising in the east,
morning sways with waves of river grass
as the elder paddles through waking water
in dugout canoe. Bare-chested, he whistles
an old, creek song, lost and found in tangles
of green swampland. Bronzed face chiseled from
stone gazes on soft, flush of Indian summer;
a burning heart beats with nature beneath.
In hand, he clenches twine of sacred bundle.
Beads of sweat fall from head lowered in prayer
to the Creator. His silent prayer for earth, hunt,
harvest and tradition collides with modern tribal
life, a quiet moment complicated by thoughts of
upcoming ceremonial festivities. If only,
he could step back in time to dance in ancient
garments 'round sacred fire free from tourists’ pale,
intruding eyes. His daughter and wife will sew
and bead jewelry to sell; his grandsons will wrestle
alligators; and he, the elder, will stand proud,
fighting to maintain dignity and culture under
a warm Miccosukee sky, hung by his ancestors
...in spun gold.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, 11/17/13
for Shanity Rain's Native American People Contest
Categories:
bronzed, culture, native american, nature,
Form:
Free verse