Best Cheeked Poems
Apple cheeked autumn eyes bashful skies, as
Yellow frocked summer says her goodbyes to fragrant
Earth's seeded spring, to wild bouquets
Arranged by careless care, for the
Roses and daffodils to compare
Dandelion sprinkles of buoyant cheer on
Windswept wishes from children's magic, landing
In water lilies and long looping lanes, woven in
Nests of chirping, fragile hope
Delicate shadows of feather and wing
Lingering through flickering whiplash steam where
Ice caves lost to reckless flame
Northern flocks under southern stars to map
Greener seasons slipped through graying rain
Drowsy flutters the pale sun's
Oscillating gusts of sleeted night as
Wan, wanting branches undone by
November's surrender to darkling winter.
10/09/20
Categories:
cheeked, flower, nature, seasons,
Form:
Acrostic
Like violets were her eyes when first I spied
the lady with a sweet child’s face who peeked
at me from bushes that she stood beside,
alluring Lilah, beaming, apple-cheeked!
And so it was that more and more I found
myself among the lilacs in that place
where first we’d met, that I might hear the sound
of Lilah’s laugh and glimpse her angel’s face.
On fragrant garden paths we knew the thrill
of blossoming affection. Poetry
was time we spent! But when my love fell ill,
the autumn of our bliss was not to be. . .
I visit Lilah now where she’s at rest
nearby the lilac blooms she liked the best.
Categories:
cheeked, autumn, lost love,
Form:
Sonnet
A is for Annie Apple Blossom she buds in the Spring.
B is Betty Baby Breath she's such a dainty thing.
C is for Miss Candy Tuft pink-cheeked with hair of gold.
D is Debbie Dandelion who never does what she's told!
E is for Easter Lily she's as white as snow.
F is Francie Fairy Bells who ring-a-lings where she goes.
G is for Ginny Gardenia perfumed oh so sweet.
H is Holly Hocks a Tomboy, she has two left feet!
I is for Inca Lily dressed in colors light.
J is Joanie Jump-Ups, Johnny's little sister bright.
K is for Katie Kangaroo Paw her nails are painted red.
L is Lila Lady Slipper who stays too long a bed.
M is for Merry Morning Glory dressed in pale blue.
N is Nancy Narcissus who trumpets ""toodeloo!"
O is for Olivia the Ox-Eyed Daisy dolly.
P is Patty Petunia, her pancakes are a folly.
Q is for Queenie Anns Lace her dresses all have ruffles.
R is Ruby Rose-a-lee who almost always shuffles.
S is for Sandy Snap Dragon tall and thin. petite.
T is Tallulah Tulip her clothes are so off beat!
U is for Uma Umbrella Flower, sweet and sunny.
V is Vicky Violet she plays with Easter bunnies.
W is for Wendy Water Lily she'd rather swim than dance.
X is Xana Xmas Tree in Winter she's entrancing.
Y is for Yani Yarrow, a girl so bonny fair
Z is Zelda Zinnia, she pinning Yani's hair.
All our girls are fine and strong, so beautiful and brave
Not a single one of them would think to misbehave!
Bio: Wise woman.
Categories:
cheeked, daughter, easter, little sister,
Form:
Couplet
A time for many a part-time passion, like
the discarded skin of Esprit jeans and low-hip waistline
baring pierced navel with flavor of a chase on the run…
would he dare confess real love as the world tolled
for Lady Diana and Charles?
You with me… moon to sun, fire to burn our eyes…
I swing on an illusion and steal the time away,
rustling along a Mustang’s back seat, while
some 8-CD tract pleads, "Do you think I’m sexy,’’
dipping in steams of instant affection.
How deep-cheeked your thrills
like Indiana Jones , knocking me
off-balance: and I, a fool ignoring the pain
that you may never Stand By Me,
never in blinks of thousand stars,
a recycled tune melting in the sand
now you’re just ozone’s hole...
I wrap the scenes along Route 25,
as bittersweet time passes by. Alone.
Kelly Deschler's Decades Contest
``Do You Think I'm Sexy
and Stand By Me-- top 80s songs
Categories:
cheeked, culture, time,
Form:
Free verse
In the Dark Night Sky
In the Dark Night Sky, a “Pale Moon” now arises suddenly,
With clouds of ice sparkling in a frozen-cold ring around it;
While your bright, rosy-cheeked face appears as a paste-like
Image of a grinning and laughing White Dwarf so happy!
A Million-Times-Brighter-Hell-Hot Supernova emerges now,
With a colossal colored-array of jewels firmly fixed upon the
Trajectory of a brilliant star trailing and exploding its waves,
As it shakes its cosmic dust on all of your light-filled dreams!
Divinity travels through my veins like warm blood free-flowing;
And as one radiant supercharged beauty kisses God’s very face,
She finds His divine and infinite picture—His view of our Cosmos,
Where the souls of Mankind seek the final spirit of their being!
Wild Moon Dogs howl joyous echoes bouncing into an infinity,
As they choose to dance to an ancient song of peace and love.
This is the final message of the pale moon’s image cresting now
Lonely across the Dark Night Sky as it reflects God’s Starlight!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 17, 2015
(Unrhymed Quatrain)
Categories:
cheeked, allegory, change, destiny, fantasy,
Form:
Quatrain
After we met
I thought we really had something,
Really hit it off.
It wasn’t the words we spoke,
The easy fluorescent trail they made.
Maybe it was the Japanese lantern
Glowing over your bare shoulder
Or the smile you threw
To the side-
To someone.
Or maybe it was the cool damp air,
Slight seduction of rain
But no rain.
Perfect, cool molecules,
Layer on layer,
Air sitting on air.
But after, I couldn’t find you.
I couldn’t find you
In the heavy-sitting valleys,
Behind the cool barriered hedges
With stone guard dogs,
In the palm shadowed boulevards
Or the canyon mazes.
I couldn’t find you
In the final exhalations of space,
On sun baked, cracked cement plaza drives.
I couldn’t find you
In the starkly lined avenues
Amongst the serious-expressioned manikins.
It really is a desert here, huh?
Had said the pale cheeked waiter from Wisconsin
While we waited for you to come back.
Yes, I thought, touching the sweating water glass.
A stage set in a desert
Filled with mirages and promises
And doors that no one answers
And roads that curve toward the sun.
We both knew you weren’t coming back.
I won’t find you again
But I will keep looking
And looking
And looking.
There is always that chance.
Yes, to find someone like you.
That chance.
I leave alone,
Tip under plate.
A dog barks at my steps,
Waits, barks again.
We are both close,
Yet impossibly,
Far from home.
Categories:
cheeked, longing, love,
Form:
Free verse
I beseech the shards of my shattered self,
as recollections collect with a jagged edge,
for a softened reflection of a dream in smithereens
to sheath this sunken cheeked shadow
lost in the mirrored fragments
of hollow-eyed tears.
Susan Ashley
February 12, 2019
~ Sixth Place ~
Premiere Contest: May 2019 Premier 4 (Max 14 Lines)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Fifth Place ~
Contest: Capture That Emotion
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Categories:
cheeked, death, emotions, grief, heartbreak,
Form:
Free verse
My dearest love oft' pledged her soul,
For life, though life then took its toll,
My heart, the thread-bare casualty
Of her regrets, (though ne'er of me),
Now she breathes not, my name ...
While this fool yearns her all the same.
Her eyes recalled the burnished brown -
The choc'late lace that crimped her gown,
That frock that, for my sake, she'd worn,
And 'midst our throes of passions, torn,
Soft-daubed with moonlight blue ...
Her china skin, thus moonlit, too.
Her locks were tawny, plat'num streaked,
And framed her visage, crimson-cheeked,
They swirled those eyes - one dark abyss,
So spilled their strands to spice each kiss,
With dappled hints of fruit ...
As fingers weaved their attribute.
Her mouth, twin bows of plums, divine,
That drew their perfect match to mine,
Those pearly whites and sugar tongue,
The pride of heav'nly strains, unsung -
As moist as highland mist ...
The kind designed to find them kissed.
Her flesh bloomed as the warmest May,
Those soft-twined corners of the day
That beguile you with their fairest frill,
The sweet, veiled places, warmer still,
With treasures hidden, deep ...
Wild wonders 'midst her carnal keep.
Still, all these traits found fairer, yet,
That charming calm her arms beget -
Sweet languor of her love and limbs,
To fill my heart and hopes to brims -
Thus lost within her grace ...
The drowning depths of her embrace.
There's some who muse why I still pine
For sweet love, lost, no longer mine ...
Despite these traits and those between
It's more the things that CAN'T be seen
That I miss, dear as life ...
That cut my soul, deep as a knife ...
And wend my mem'ries, raw and rife.
Categories:
cheeked, lost love, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
The trees are bare, now comes cold air
The breezes howl this night
I’m toasty warm, secured by charm
As we hold each other tight
This winter evening…
As the sun descends…
The moon is smiling…
No love pretends…
It’s all for real, dear…
As we stay inside…
The winter frowns…
While in here, we hide…
Our winter pleasures…
Are year round dreams…
When come the fires…
With snow filled scenes…
We’ll feel the softness…
As our hands embrace…
Reflecting fires, bright…
With red cheeked face…
Winter winds chasing, while love’s erasing
The many sounds we hear
We’re holding so tight, by the fire this night
As our bodies stay so near
Old mister winter…
Turn away from our door…
For we won’t answer…
We won’t give you more…
The room is ignited…
By this fire inside…
On this winter evening…
In here, we’ll hide…
Categories:
cheeked, seasonswinter, fire, fire, winter,
Form:
Quatrain
March
Sweet, bitter March,
last year tears haven’t dried out up
till now and yet you
are already at the door,
knocking lightly!
Sadness is still flapping over my head like
a frantic goose, what have you brought with you
to silence its primordial honking?!
I can see your hunched silhouette against the wall
Of my waiting, standing awash with shame,
wringing your empty hands desperately!
O' March , anniversary of tears and smiles,
Memories are pacing around nostalgically, sniffing
the withered roses, leafing through the pages of books
trying to put the haphazard leftovers of a once
beautiful image into shape…
The hurricane that accompanied you once
has subdued, leaving behind a nerve-tearing silence and
a deracinated life!
Don’t wonder; rootless hopes are still roving
over the corpse of a long dead dream, taking
strength from the ever pulsating stars…
March, March , embracer of birth and death,
the breath of eternity has abandoned
your rosy-cheeked child..
The resonance of its happy giggles are
haunting the vacant hours of night, sending me
reeling of longing!
Its face emerges from among the clouds of years, an angelic
Vision imprinted on the face of a mourning moon!
Categories:
cheeked, nostalgia, march,
Form:
Prose Poetry
My Christmas Baby Doll
Fast down the staircase, eight of us in all,
like Santa’s reindeer, fly to our big tree
the very second that our parents call
us from our bedrooms. Oh, the gifts we see!
The glitter of the tinsel can’t compare
to our excitement as we run to snatch
our presents up! Then we begin to tear
the wrapping off, and then at last I catch
a glimpse of my best present on the floor.
A box rectangular, it makes me guess
it has to be the gift I will adore.
Pink-cheeked and sweet, it’s Thumbelina! Yes!
I wind a knob. Her small head moves. How real
my baby is, and what great joy I feel!
Written Dec. 21, 2016 for The Christmas Day Contest of Alexis Y.
See picture of the vintage 1964 doll above.
Categories:
cheeked, childhood, christmas,
Form:
Sonnet
Saved from my own cloaks of darkness; torn from grips
of deceit. I lift my prayers to sun-blushed skies.
The truth, I share, in shades of pink. In worship,
undaunted, rouge-stained dreams turn to gold. The lies
no longer bleed but melt into memories
of a rosy-cheeked girl and fresh potpourri.
Scattering petals of fragile carnations,
I’ll live in peace hushed by pink-gold salvation.
Saved by pink petals as delicate as lace.
Never again, shall I fear my enemy.
Cheeks blush with the love of a beautiful face,
praise and devotion become the remedy.
The mended heart beats in pink-hued harmony
of shimmering hopes and blossoming glory.
Tomorrow held in trusting adoration.
In peace, I’m renewed by pink-gold salvation.
Categories:
cheeked, betrayal, color, hope, inspiration,
Form:
Rispetto
taking an early walk along the shore
awaiting for the royal entrance of the new day
through His Love Divine---
I hear the whisper of the cold and gentle wind into my ears saying:
the arrival of your majestic prince of the universe has now begun
excitements I feel deep down in my heart
giving a fleeting glimpse at the side of the ocean
there lies the long ranges of mountain-tops
seems as if they hide him from me
giving me suspense on his final exquisite appearance
as the ebbs move gracefully on their way back…
carpeting his path
waves all arise welcoming him with their loveliest prelude
the cold breeze gently wafts the perfumes as peaceful as they could
a scent of the blue ocean-potpourri
filling the air up to the clouds then down to my mood
as my prince finally ascends unto the clear sky
through his radiant rays he sends me right away his glowing smiles
descending his loving touch mellowed by God’s Loving Embraces
from my face creeping down to my whole being
all I feel is his warmth: an assurance that forever He cares
a very wonderful feeling I can’t explain
I close my eyes and raise my gentle face towards his rays
trying to absorb all the blessings and graces he brings
Oh, what a great and wonderful feeling!
keeping still my chin up on high
exposing to him my rosy cheeked face as I close my eyes
then I protrude my lips
As I want to finally feel my Prince Sun’s warmest kiss
a kiss of my Darling Sunshine
a sweet kiss of love
the greatest and eternal love
from up above
Feb. 9, 2013 2.30pm
Note:
I love sunshine! My father gave me a ring when I was still young engraved with words Darling Sunshine because according to him I was born during sunrise. I lost the ring when I was staying in a dormitory as a student.
Sixth Place
Contest: Verse Poems
Judged: 3/12/2013
Sponsor: Poet Nathan A
Third Place
Contest: A Kiss of Sunshine
Judged: 3/25/2013
Sponsor: Poet Gail Angel Doyle
First Place
Contest: In Honor of my Fave Poem
Judged: 4/11/2013
Sponsor: Poet Andrea Dietrich
Categories:
cheeked, beauty, kiss, love, me,
Form:
Free verse
RELATED BY CHOICE
For my adopted grandmother Nancy Enloe
I met you at a friend’s house,
standing stately on your cane,
tall and rosy-cheeked like me.
In your smile, I basked and thought,
“Long-lost cousin, could you be?”
Like my great aunt long ago,
when you learned I love to write,
you gave me three r’s of verse:
Robert Wash, Service, and Frost,
and asked to read my own work.
Like my aunt in my childhood,
you invited me for swims.
In your pool, I splashed and laughed.
Like her, you asked to hear me play
my organ -the whole grand staff!
On a ten-day Rockies trip,
Jasper, Banff, and Lake Louise,
friends asked if you were my mom.
We smiled at that pleasing word
like Gilead’s healing balm.
One day, as we drove along,
you said just out of the blue,
that you’d be Grandma to me.
As if you spoke my own thoughts,
I grinned as wide as you could see.
Oh, once we got to be twins
in blazers you bought for us.
You knitted us two rainbow scarves
for walking in wintry air
or through the winds on the wharves.
You’ve been family to me,
all six relations in one.
How fun it would be to find
on genealogy sites
if we’re related for real.
No matter! It feels just right!
Categories:
cheeked, family, friendship, granddaughter, grandmother,
Form:
Lyric
The whittled worries and fears shred my nerves like ants on glass, sparkling red. I notice and bow to the glitterati in their fine silks and cuts of cloth because they pay my wages; they care little for the red-cheeked fellow in the silly hat, whose spring step is more right-right than left-right. I’ve become the cheesy blue veined odour curdling on the edge of the plate, readying the silver bone china scrape.
I don't belong at this party with my ill-fitting garb and my eyes mercilessly seduced by the bejeweled beauties beset with jouncy bouquets, spilling colours fountain-like, their exuberant price tags hanging down unembarrassed, soliciting the eye to not deny the wealth. The verdant green will see two-stepping tonight, to the tunes in my head. I am the entertainment, yet feel like the booby prize no one sees. Must I sing for my supper in my red striped specially selected boating hat, or should I croon like the scolded cat serenading the moon.
That's when I saw her slinking and jingling, a charade slipping its mooring, her face dreamy, floating on a tide of lilacs and honeysuckles, and like a brazen queen-worthy vessel, she parted the waves to meet me on the floor closely followed by a scrum of sweaty-faced boys that up-anchored and waddled in her wake. I sang a croon for her ears alone, to imagine dancing with me under the crescent of the moon, in our garden filled with cents and honey and songs to set the traps with money - but all that this did achieve, was nothing but the wish to be elsewhere, somewhere a little less funny.
Categories:
cheeked, allusion,
Form:
Prose