Best Cecelia Poems
Now walking through the autumn of my life
Where maple leaves have turned from green to gold
I watch them fall in breezes turning cold
In a whirl-wind of harmony and strife
And I ponder, on the fact that I might
In the light, as another day unfolds
Have, like these dying autumn leaves, grown old
Slow spiraling toward the pending night
Moss grows along the path where I now step
That rocky road now softened by the years
Seeing for the first time, so crystal clear
That I will leave this life with one regret
This vision, that these old eyes now behold
Those blazing flames, when autumn leaves let go.
Author: Elaine Cecelia George of Canada
Categories:
cecelia, introspection, life,
Form:
Sonnet
I stand here with every step of my life etched in crisscross lines beneath these
well worn feet.
Well worn feet that have carried me for seven decades and three years more
through pain and pleasure, joy and sorrow, on a path of adversity that couldn't conquer me.
I stand here today...a tenacious and contented soul with my mission nearly complete... close to the end of the road where earth and heaven meet.
Author: Elaine Cecelia George of Canada
Categories:
cecelia, introspection,
Form:
Narrative
I
Will
Kiss you
While you sleep
Lady dressed in white
And melt your cold heart made of ice
Then
You
Will rise
Liquefied
High into the sky
And fall as raindrops from God’s eyes
To
The
Waiting
Buds below
Where now you will grow
With me - in the bloom of a rose
~~~
Author: Elaine Cecelia George
* Note: This poem is a Personification as well as a triple Fibonacci
Brian Strand's 'Image Contest': First Place
John Heck's '12-in-one' Contest: First Place
Categories:
cecelia, hope, love, nature,
Form:
Personification
Again she sees those vibrant sleeves of green
And hears those gentle whispers and soft sighs
Alone beneath a willow lost in dreams
An old woman reflects through misty eyes
To see her now so deeply scarred by time
A beauty once now buried in the folds
Upon that road of passion left behind
The bitter price she paid for growing old
The park where they first met is much the same
Where those two hearts she sees again entwined
Engraved upon the stone that bears his name
Upon her soul forever in her mind
A barren stone awaits her by his side
Beneath those gentle whispers and soft sighs
Author: Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada
Author's note:
The title is from a quote of Shakespear which
inspired this sonnet.
Categories:
cecelia, love,
Form:
Sonnet
Etching tales that run in trails along a parchment sheet
From feathered quill in trembling hand so longing now for sleep
As black ink drips down from the lip that rounds the pewter well
While a raven watches from his perch on the windowsill
Fluttering flames dance above a pool of cooling wax
As the candle wanes away against a night of velvet black
Recalling long lost love again by the glow of candlelight
In a dreamlike state the poet writes… long into the night
Smouldering eyes upon the joy and sorrow of his life
Alone but for his tears the poet writes and writes and writes
Until he finds her there upon the shore of Evermore
Standing at the foot of heaven’s door… his sweet Lenore
His name a whisper on her lips above the ocean roar
Until the well runs dry and the poet writes no more
A broken quill on tearstained parchment in the early dawn
But the poem he wrote that velvet night…still lives on and on.
A Tribute to Edgar Allan Poe
Author: Elaine Cecelia George
Categories:
cecelia, poets, writing,
Form:
Quatrain
She sleeps in her rose wood bed,
under a blanket of velvet red;
old and alone and forgotten,
she dreams of the love she once had.
Once again she recalls his caress
on the curve of her hips
and her breast
as he moved his bow
on the strings of her soul,
playing her sound
'til his passion was spent.
~~~
They traveled the whole world over,
to every city and town;
the maestro, his bow and violin,
bringing each curtain down.
~~~
He died in a cry of sweet refrain,
clutching her strings to his heart;
as he fell to the floor in a final encore,
tearing her world apart.
~~~
So she sleeps in her rose wood bed,
under a blanket of velvet red;
her strings still filled
with the song of her soul,
etched by the maestro
that loved her
so long ago!
Author: Elaine Cecelia George
Categories:
cecelia, love, romance,
Form:
Personification
Open like a door before me
Be it sun or rain or stormy
Each new year gapes like yawning chasms, dark
And for all my silly scheming
All my notions and my dreaming
Passion's flames won't ever light without a spark
(Oh New Year please burn bright for me)
I can not see your face from here
But how I long to draw you near
And hold you to my bosom like a child
Oh New Year, won't you sing for me
And drown the sad cacophony
Of all the years behind me, lost and wild
(Oh New Year please burn bright for me)
You see, I'd been to hell and back
A hundred times when I lost track
Of all the hopes that blossomed in my youth
With poisons making life surreal
I'd lost the will to thrive or feel
Until the kiss of death revealed my truth
(Oh New Year please burn bright for me)
This year I dream of someone new
The mirrored face that longs to do
The things that he has loosened to the wind
To let go of the fears that bind
That paralyze his heart and mind
And never feel embarrassed or chagrined
(Oh New Year please burn bright for me)
I want to grasp life with both hands
To twirl my spirit on the sands
Of time, and never look back to redeem
But make the most of moments, each
Let laughter, love and friendship teach
My soul the things I never dared to dream
(Oh New Year please burn bright for me)
Burn bright with the hopes of my music and pen
Burn bright with the fire that can love me again
Burn bright with the dreams that churn deep in my heart
Burn bright with the flames of a joyous new start
(Oh New Year please burn bright for me)
And I will burn bright ... for YOU.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Soon It Will Be 2019" Poetry Contest, Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
cecelia, appreciation, dream, hope, new
Form:
Lyric
Beneath a blue canopy where apple and cherry blossoms float and pirouette... silhouettes in the light of day...ballerinas wearing tutus of fluttering Willow, Russian Olive, Crimson King and Maple leaves...bend and sway their supple limbs to a symphony played and sung by wind chimes, Cardinals, Red Wings, and Gold and Purple Finches...on Mother Nature's stage in my backyard.
Written: May 29, 2014
Author: Elaine Cecelia George of Canada
Categories:
cecelia, nature,
Form:
Free verse
The Double Rhyme Sonnet is a sonnet that rhymes not only the end of the lines but also the front part (metrically)! Of course, I would be looking for imagery, good grammar, meter, etc.; however, the most important criterion is that it be written precisely with both end rhyme AND front line rhyme using the standard English sonnet rhyme pattern of ABAB CDCD EFEF GG and of course, using Iambic Pentameter; therefore, the rhyme on the front is on the stressed syllable (the second one) and NOT on the first syllable.
(My entry: A Double Rhymed Sonnet)
The starkness of my world now that he’s gone
pervades in all I see and hear and feel,
but darkness swallows all until the dawn
invades. Then what I’ve lost is made more real!
I yearn for Moon’s return - her tender light
to keep me soothed, for sunshine is my bane.
I burn with thoughts of him. I need, each night,
to sleep away my longings and the pain.
He left, and now he’s far away from me
across the globe. Oh, how I love him so!
Bereft am I, but he perhaps feels free!
My loss means where he is tonight shall glow
sweet Moon, caressing him - as once did I,
and soon, I’ll face the glare from morning’s sky!
For the "Enter Your Own Competition" Contest of Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
Categories:
cecelia, loneliness, love,
Form:
Sonnet
In the daylight hours, I spend my time
So high on a perch, in a lofty pine
Where I fluff and comb my pretty plumes
And wait for the rise of the silver moon
I bob and weave on the top of the tree
Watching my world, in dimensions of three
My golden eyes fixed, on the fallen leaves
As I wait for the night, so patiently
At the set of sun, and the rise of moon
In the Croatan forest, near Camp Le Jeune
With a piercing screech, I take to the sky
On the wind, with silent wings, I fly
Over forest and swamps, on a winter night
Dipping and swaying like a wind-blown kite
In search of a rabbit, a rat or a bat
Until I find one, there's no turning back
Over Emerald Isle, and wind-swept dunes
I fly, so freely, beneath a silver moon
For miles along the Atlantic shore
Engrossed in the din of the ocean's roar
I hear from a distance, the stir of a hare
And see her dining, on sea grasses there
Her nibbling nose, like a lure, to my eyes
As I, with the speed of lightning, fly
Then swooping straight down, without a sound
I wrap my talons, so tightly around
The slow, soft beat, of a dying heart
As bits of fur, fly away in the dark
A Great Horned Owl, I'm a bird of prey
With the wind at my back, I make my way
With the chill of winter, a melt on my breast
I return triumphantly to my nest.
~~~
For contest sponsored by Eve Roper
Owls Personification
Placed: 2nd
Written: February 12, 2016
Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada
Categories:
cecelia, bird, flying, nature,
Form:
Personification
I am...
A seed that was blown from
A wayward wind
Sewn too soon
With fragile roots
Clinging
To a rocky soil
That fell between
The cracks
In a place covered
In ocean brine
Which...Somehow
Managed to exist
Where the sun
Could not shine
Except…
On those rare days
When it would burn
Through that veil
Of grey fog
Turning
The whole world blue
Blue skies...
Where clouds roamed
Aimlessly...
Over a quiet glassy surface
That would
When pushed...
By a raging wind
Lash out
In frustration
Shattering itself
On those jagged rocks
As it tried
Time
And time again
To move beyond that
Rocky shore
Where...
That rose
Tried in vain
To bloom.
Author: Elaine Cecelia George of Canada
Written: March 7th, 2015
Categories:
cecelia, introspection, metaphor,
Form:
Bio
In so many shades of black and white, I find you after all these years;
leaning against that old weathered clapboard schoolhouse,
high on the hill overlooking the Fundy Bay,
and again, I inhale the fragrance of those wild sea salt roses
and feel the ocean mist upon my face, as I look out at those
sunbeams dancing on the tops of those rolling waves.
There you are, in your hand-me-down dress,
with socks pooling around the tops of your shoes.
There, third row to the far left, sporting a home made bowl haircut,
and a smile of utter joy.
After all years, in so many shades of black and white,
I find that little lost girl, and I am a kid again.
In so many shades of black white, I find the true colors that are me.
~~~
Author: Elaine Cecelia George
Categories:
cecelia, childhood, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
In a house where a maiden's dreams were crushed
An open seam forever left impaled
Discolored remnants of a wedding veil
Beneath a stitch in time that came too late
A silver needle sewed her final fate
A blushing bride she never was to be
A spinster was to be her destiny
The war years seemed like only yesterday'
As I gazed on the ruins and disarray
A mildewed wedding dress that stood in wait
Beneath layers of soggy tattered lace
Then beneath the leaking roof and fallen beams
I heard the humming of that old machine
As she tried to mend the dream that fell apart
The candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark
Author: Elaine Cecelia George
Categories:
cecelia, dream, marriage,
Form:
Personification
How beautiful the frosty breath of winter on the land
A breath so cold ...a kiss of death...that turns Mother Earth to stone
But with the passing of time...Spring will take her breath away.
Written: May 30th, 2018
Author: Elaine Cecelia George of Canada
Categories:
cecelia, nature,
Form:
Sijo
I shall nay know all the wonders - you hold
For all too soon the winds of winter blow
Scarlet petals withering in the snow
How cruel the breath that kills the velvet rose
Tears - that canst’ bear the thought of letting go
Forever frozen in this empty soul
A broken heart forever turned to stone
A broken stem left now to stand alone
Alas! I find that life is bitter-sweet
As I stand holding only memories
Of a rose blooming in the summer breeze
Here beneath this old weeping willow tree
Once I held the sweetest rose - ever born
Now – in my grief – I hold the bitter thorn.
~~~
Author: Elaine Cecelia George
Categories:
cecelia, death, lost love, rose,
Form:
Sonnet