Best Catch One Poems
You've no doubt heard of fire-breathing dragons,
and their obsession with hoarding treasure.
But you have never heard of Huffle-Winks,
magical creatures that promote pleasure.
Invisible, atop their dragonflies,
they ride the winds of fate mile after mile.
And wherever they encounter a frown,
they attempt to flip it into a smile.
They summon dragonflies to get around,
for, unlike dragons, they haven't learned to fly.
But, if you suddenly feel like laughing,
it's a safe bet; a Huffle-Wink's nearby.
In winter, when dragonflies disappear,
they hitch a ride upon tumbling snowflakes.
And if you're lucky enough to catch one,
it's like winning the lottery sweepstakes.
I've never seen one, except in my dreams,
but I feel, in my heart, they are real.
And what makes me so sure that they exist
is the joyful way that they make me feel.
When you're feeling particularly blue,
remember, Huffle-Winks are all around.
And as spirits of jocularity,
they ensure that smiles and laughter abound.
Conquering new territories climbing up the stairway
new beginnings hanging on the edge of a dream
an empire arises from dark ashes flash petals catch one gem
Through honeycombed dewdrops softly spinning clear
golden the sparkle upon your tabernacle silken touch
vision of deep beauty shines immaculate heart
Beholding rose gold sparkles
sugar coating light dazzling before the eyes
crystal sparks ignite rainbow gleams
Through a mist of tears travelling one picture
everything shrinks in your shadow perfect
sunbeams warmly come alive
Touching clouds dancing with teardrops
falling over an angel salted from the ocean
seagulls lament faraway distant overseas calls
(Unrhymed Tercet)
Conquering new territories climbing up the stairway
new beginnings hanging on the edge of a dream
an empire arises from dark ashes flash petals catch one gem
Through honeycombed dewdrops softly spinning
golden the sparkle upon your tabernacle silken touch
vision of deep beauty shines immaculate heart
Beholding rose gold sparkles crown
sugar coating light dazzling before the eyes
crystal sparks ignite rainbow gleams
Through a mist of tears travelling one picture
everything shrinks in your shadow perfect
sunbeams warmly come alive
Touching clouds dancing with teardrops
falling over an angel salted from the ocean
seagulls lament faraway distant overseas calls
(Unrhymed Tercet)
The Emerald Isle lies misty green,
an ocean's gem, a land between
the water's edge and blue of sky,
her magic wonders seldom seen.
For those who know her can't deny
although, in truth, they wonder why
the Irish spin their wondrous tales
to friends and strangers, stopping by.
An Irish story never fails,
in all its glorious details,
to weave a world of fae and sprite
who hide amongst the woodland trails.
The little folks keep far from sight,
but if you're very still, you might
just catch one dancing, unaware,
when day is slipping into night.
As songs of evening fill the air,
listen close and tread with care,
with little folks about somewhere—
with little folks about somewhere.
you stir my thoughts
like this breeze
caressing me
in the distance
melodious songs
fall from chimes
as the sun slips past
the edges of western skies
just beyond view
on the other side
of waking dreams
you lie there
in the reflection
of a million stars
raining down on me
my lips whisper
of silent kisses
amidst these starry skies
in hopes that you
may catch one
as it falls
in the midst
of this december night
look up at the skies
the diamonds on black velvet -
enchanting beauty
with a royal view
universe sublime aspects -
touched a twinkling star
mixed in ecstasy
if i could only catch one -
in bed at midnight
to ascend the sky
moon guards the treasure as gold -
prayer of twilight
quiet dreams under the sky -
that night a star fell nearby
30.05.2023
Anne-Lise Andresen
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Haiku Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joanna Daniel
2nd place in the contest
Spring winds clean winter branches
Leaves billow far from home
A maple tree sheds its own in tune
No one is around to collect them
Flat and perfect to be pressed in a book
Unlike humanity’s tree in March
It sheds its leaves year-round
We gather around its floating remains
We mourn our buds yet unfurled
We cry when our crimson leaves fall
But some are not so lucky
Some are unclaimed and unloved leaves
Like dead leaves blown by Spring winds
Ordinary as the ones that pass you by
No one to press them between leaves
They belong to the careless breeze
Free to disappear from existence
There is a terror in freedom
Adrift and alone
With no one to catch one from falling
As our stems fail and we fall
A human fallen leaf is a sad sight
Sadder when no one catches them
No one to press in a folio
Place a gravestone as a bookmark
A novel with pages forever shut
Never to see the light of day
Isn’t it better to land on the ground
With all the other compost?
All the leaves nameless alike
Under the cruel sunshine
Under the cool moonlight
Rather than a maple leaf loved
Safely tucked in a page
Between nine and infinity?
Those who have no one who loves them
Those maple leaves unclaimed
Make the pages for those who are loved
Like fallen and unloved maple leaves
Still making the soil we tread upon
She climbed the liquid staircase
just to gaze at gleaming stars;
all she wanted was a wee one
to light up her fair boudoir.
A thousand times she spied them
flash across the midnight sky;
she strained so high to catch one,
but the mermaid could not fly.
Exhausted with hard striving,
she lay back against the sea,
rocking on the waves, gently,
as she rested peacefully.
The moon, climbing his set arc,
saw her glistening on the foam;
at first sight so madly loved
her, longing to take her home.
To lightly comb her flowing
hair, he sent a small moonbeam,
who tangled in her tresses
and woke her from her dream.
With a flash, her glittering tail
slapped the water and she fled,
sliding down in the ocean,
hiding in her pearl lined bed.
The moon, absent one moonbeam,
wanders heaven, round and round,
surveying seas and oceans,
praying his mermaid is found.
Sometimes in the deep, dark pool
he sees a shining light start
beneath the frothing billows,
and he clutches for his heart.
Forever in his orbit...
she, forever in the waves,
her hair with his beam glowing,
all of love he ever gave.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, May 31, 2014
I sit and I wonder.
I wonder and I sit.
Moments dance together,
not worrying where they fit.
Each of my thoughts hug me one by one,
As I stare out at the smiling sun.
A bird sits outside my window free,
And sings a perfect song meant to be.
I think and I stop.
I stop and I think.
Some worries follow like a
shadow about to shrink.
A tree waves it’s branches strong and true,
Standing tall with stories old and new.
Feathers hide his soul about to fly.
Sky is grey with clouds ready to cry.
I dream and I sleep.
I sleep and I dream.
Life is full of laughter, hidden tears,
and silent screams.
I sit on a bench with a dear friend,
Sun winks bye, another day does end.
I reach to catch one lonely, falling star.
Sky full of stars does not seem too far.
I walk and I talk.
I talk and I walk.
Time stops and stands still like a
faceless, silent clock.
Laughter fills the air one afternoon.
Children chase and watch a gazing moon.
Waves crash the shore and dance into our mind.
Footprints journey through sand of time to see what they can find.
I love and I listen.
I listen and I love.
Away flies perfect peace of broken
wings of a dove.
People sit and share their deepest thought.
Crowds invade to see what can be bought.
Butterfly flutters the horizon of a vision.
We forget the caterpillar, it’s struggle and its mission.
I am awake and I hug.
I hug and I am awake.
Blindness of the heart can’t separate what’s true, what’s fake.
Never take for granted holding hands with a child,
Or bouquets picked for you so colorful and so wild.
Listen to stories the old man has told before.
Fill your heart with compassion,
Never close that door.
Each sunset ends a day.
Each star fills up the sky.
Each footstep leads a way.
Each dream learns how to fly.
That bird outside my window full of feathers warm and grey,
That bird outside my window sings a song for me today.
When winter months become morose
And everything around is blue and froze
Gets disheartening even for the eskimos
Their morale starts to dwindle and decompose
They tread most lightly on cautious tippytoes
For fear their neighbors will become bellicose
They bite their tongue rather than use such prose
As ‘up your nose, my friend, with a rubber hose’
It is uplifting to dream of colorful scenarios
Any warm place where the blazing sun glows
Where the desert air gently blows
While ocean waves roll in sultry rows
All agree a trip down south would be most grandiose
Trading bikinis for their parka and heavy winter clothes
By pools they’d feign being divinely comatose
Drink in hand adopting the hot vacation pose
Stretched out on their hammocks eating pistachios
Laying back being busy counting colored rainbows
Hey CabanaBoy we’d truly really hate to impose
But would you please massage us from our head to our toes
Before their fair skin burns and redness undergoes
They all head back to their respective bungalows
Wondering should they dress go catch one of the shows
Or rest in bed before calling on one of the local rodeos
While visiting the souvenir shop one decides to propose
To send home a postcard showing tropical buzzards and flamingos
With a heartfelt message that needs not be verbose
For sure they’ll be the envy of both our friends and foes
AP: 1st place 2021
Submitted on January 9, 2019 for contest BUZZARDS AND FLAMINGOS sponsored by ANTHONY SLAUSIN
O! FLUFF! FIZZ! ICE-TRUFFLES and BANDALEES!
Can't see the forest, for the snow on trees!
Where every gossamer veil of snow delights
And every string of bulbs mimics Heav'n's Lights!
O! TRUE! the tales of gnomes and Ice-Elves are!
(I fear some fool will catch one in a jar
and so, I've held my Peace on this -- so far)
But NOW, I must speak out, you see... on par
With Ancient Wisdom are the Fairy Stories,
Chuck full of Angels, dwarves... filled with the Glories
Of... Champions, Magicians of Renown...
Of tiny folk, who live in Tinytown…
Of Reprimands for those who trouble Nature
(Or use JUST Scientific Nomenclature).
REBUKE! O, WISE! The Unbelievers, ALL!
Who LAUGH at gnolls and trolls, both great, and small!
For He that trusts not, sews with poison thread,
That knots Hope; leaves Imagination dead.
Date Written: December 28, 2018
For Contest: BUNNY LUMP
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
Oh how that old man loved to fish,
It was always his request,
To catch one last fish, that was his wish,
That is what he loved the best.
One more cast,
One more throw,
He might hook that fish at last,
If you didn’t rush to go.
He knew he might get one more bite,
If he left out his line,
As long as there was light,
He could catch one at any time.
He was always the last to go,
Staring intently at his bait,
There was always a chance don’t you know,
If you could just wait.
Even if he just caught one,
He did not want to miss,
Another chance before the setting sun,
Just one more fish.
What do you see,
(I am the mirrors reflection)
when you look at me?
(I am nothing but fantasy or fiction)
That little girl
(I am cracked in the middle)
with a baby's curl
(left an unsolved riddle)
innocent and meek,
(barely alive)
with soft words to speak.
(trying to survive.)
Or do you see the mask
(Pieces threaten to fall)
I use to carry out this task
(fragments of my world, big and small.)
its full of smiles that are fake
(Catch one and bleed away;)
and a voice that threatens to break
(suffer from memories of yesterday).
Oh! the wonderful time of Spring is here.
Can you smell the flowers in the air?
The leaves are green and flowers in bloom
yellows and gold and lavender too.
The birds sing a lullaby and whisper stories
of days gone by. Love and laughter is the best
medicine they say, so bring on the sunshine
and in our garden, lets play.
Harmony colored butterflies sway into the wind
they cast off and away through the days end.
Catch one dear Ma would say, it will bring luck
on a rainy day.
Apples and oranges round they go
handful of love and laughter will grow.
Spring is the time of all that's new,
come and see me and I'll share it
with you.
If yer one and only wish is to catch one really big fish,
Then ya need ta stop bait'n fer minners.
If you'd read my first book you'd use a big hook,
An'a bait big n'uf fer yer dinners.
It might take ye' awhile, but if fishin's yer style,
Ya might catch 'im with one week 'o fishin'.
It's well worth the wait when a hawg takes yer bait,
An' th' catch is as big as yer wishin'!