Best Cheerfully Poems
When splendor of love spun dreams ecstatic
Musings of fantasy waltzed joyous themes
On blossoms of meadows in prime of spring
And giggles of streams donning green prairies
I felt your presence my eager beats crooned
When halo of the moon ravished our mood
As melodic rhythms inflamed doting hearts
And voice of hot passion blazed our romance
You were sweet life that I cheerfully claimed
And I was to you what your triumph meant
But feelings euphoric soon lost their edge
When in winds of change vows of youth drifted
I saw you go there where lonesome souls cry
Where emotions despised strife of pale sighs
When day’s silence often filled awkward void
And haze of nights we spent gazing gray skies
When dawns soon arose enveloped in shroud
Love too got masked, cloaked in stygian clouds
And allure, once acclaimed, began to fade
As contempt of sameness dwindled our flames
As you leave this dream, dear, you know it too
No longer the birds choose to croon your tune
They are searching someone they loved and knew
The one they once wooed, who used to be you
January 27, 2021
Poem of the day on January 28, 2020
Placed 1st: Watered-down juice poetry contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Ten syllables per line (howmanysyllables.com)
Upon autumn's stage where vermillion vistas and cobalt-blue sky meet
Picturesque hues enchant, oscillating in breeze, as scarlet landscapes greet.
Falling leaves trickle down on golden yellow fabric in shades of amber fire
As barren trees fight gusty winds to hold on to remnants of brown attire.
Chilled air empowers imperial red tinges to adorn vestiges of fading green
Transforming lakes and ponds into heavens of romantic crimson scene.
Harvests of freshly cut grains cheerfully celebrate season's festive meals,
Sipping cinnamon tea and sampling pumpkin pies, welcome autumn feels.
Revelers rejoice glimpses of winter under moonlit-glow of freezing nights
As naked forests sway in tandem, yearning for the rebirth of vibrant sights.
October 4, 2018
Placed 3rd: Seasonal verse poetry contest by Brian Strand
Placed 4th in Vermillion autumn couplets contest by Vermillion Scythe
My box of sadness too.
A box full of sadness I store under my bed.
With thoughts so sad
Making me wish I was dead.
With one look underneath my bed.
Memories of you jump inside my head.
Like a Jack in the box, who is trapped inside.
I stuffed my feelings in this box.
I will not surrender to any sadden thoughts.
Shutting the box full of spider webs.
I do not want to feel the deepness of sad, I hide.
This sadness I store back under my bed.
My feelings are better trapped inside.
Staring at the box with my eyes open wide.
Tears start to fall the ones I buried inside
Following footsteps with no guide.
Why did I bother to remove the lid.
Sadness always makes it hard to decide
The pain my heart does not want to see.
Hiding the sadness, I yet have not cried.
I will not release my sadness, and set it free.
I have managed to put the sadness out side of me.
This sadness only belongs to me.
How could you leave with out telling me bye.
I pretend to live my life so cheerfully.
It takes a real person to bring me down.
My sadness trapped behind a fake bully.
Like a smile from a clown .
I put on a show and block any sad thought.
Not allowing my self to drown in self pitting ways.
You left me alone after bringing me into this world.
The one and only person who could be there for me.
In my troubles and need she left me.
Every one saying it might have been suicide.
How could you leave us behind with misery and blame.
The sadness of your shame is what I hide
A box of my sadness under my bed.
By:P.D.----I guess that is one of my sadness. A true one at that.
To:The Rambling Poet- This is a challenge called by you.
Trapped inside with a sadness. The other part of me
Fluttering beneath the newly cut
Festive green hollies,
Decked out with heaped drapes
Of freshly fallen snow,
A bold little red breasted Robin,
Busily searching,
Cheerfully hops to and fro.
Darting between the soft, swirling
flakes
Of unique crystalline, driven without
respite,
He alights upon his sheltered
perch
And begins to shrilly trill:
Against the on coming, long
Drawn out Christmas night.
For the drawing darkness is
deepening,
Whilst the harsh wind blows so chill;
And, gently waking
From nonsensical dreaming,
I harken to the old dog Fox,
As, barking, he pads on down
Through the gorse strewn hill.
Suddenly stirred from dozing
Idleness,
As the charred log shifts and
settles in the grate,
I recall with vivid fondness:
Some old memories, good times,
The well meant promises
I did so earnestly to undertake.
Of old acquaintance...
Not forgotten,
And those that were
Or are no more,
Of circumstance and friendship:
And of they
That daily come
To pass through my open door.
But now the flames from the fire,
Dancing in the frosted window
panes,
Are calling for the poker
So I may stoke the blaze again;
For turning my warming back
Upon the locked out winters keep...
I hear that steadfast little Robin
Sing once more -
As I fall back into uncontested sleep!
Sing, Birds Sing
Sun
Smiling
Gleefully
Blushes blue dawn
While robin's musing
Pink-dogwood dreams
Rejoicing
Blooming
Spring
Where
Playful
Cardinal
Hops, hops, and sits
Then curves a sharp spin
Flying up high
Savoring
Freedom
Flight
Lone
Sparrow
Sitting on
Red maple tree
Whistles and dances
Reveling in
Lilacs and
Lilies
White
Sing
Birds sing
Exalting
Season's beauty
Warbling, frolicking
Serenading
Cheerfully
Sing birds
Sing
Sing
Of joy
Of prairies
Of giggling streams
Of butterflies, bees
Flowering trees
Sing of hearts
Sing of
Love
February 20, 2022
Placed 1st: A Brian Strand Formed Contest
Placed 3rd: Springtime Ninette Poetry Contest
Sponsor: M. L. Kiser
Syllables: 1,2,3,4,5,4,3,2,1
Into the deep woods cheerfully I walked
Following the path of a lone shining star
Hosting a magical fairytale in my heart
Beholding sweet visions of who you are.
Sights and sounds symbolized the dark
Resonating nocturnal bird's wailing call
Alarmed by the whining of porcupines
Breaking silence of a formative night fall.
Gentle winds blew carrying ardent vibes
As your beautiful sight graced my eyes
Being a regal princess in heavenly attire
Delighting the province of moonlit skies.
Flashing mythic smile in lyrical vocabulary
Attuned to the cadence of musical strings
You whispered to voices of sensual wishes
Arousing passions seductive dream brings.
As you then kissed me I became a prince
Adding a new chapter to ancient allegory
Until the bird songs rudely awakened me
Alerting you to vanish before end my story.
January 8, 2019
Poem of the day on January 10, 2019
Placed first in February 2019 week 1 contest by Brian Strand
Placed 2nd in Into the woods poetry contest by Silent One
We grasp shadows flow over magenta light
in the crystal trails of tourmaline
yes, both of us will leave.
to the celestial abeyance of pasty white
neon embers in starburst trim
for now, I'll stoop and write.
Let's have a nap beneath the towering redwoods
we'll watch "forgets" fly with natural hammering
together, let's find out how to solve the mystery
lyrical hues in lustrous iridescence.
We just shrug our shoulders and cheerfully
understand our linked introspection
here, in the peaks, where the sun shines
let's soar with the creative spirit of life.
Blew away the flushed, blushing bliss
on her whispering wings
white fog rolls out onto the calm ocean
which gathers the incoming stillness
a phosphorescent steeple is adorned.
Strolling the fog-covered hills, gazing at the bay
let us sip moonbeams from the blazing lighthouse
sunlight swirled exotic zaffre mist in a ritzy haze
enjoying the warmth and the water shimmer
resting comfortably in a lovely night-line
Damselflies rose to the lush sky's eerie sighs
A hazy veil curves across huge terrains.
sunlight sparkles on the winding river
comfortable, long-drifting
to the whispering rouge
of a nuptial serenade
only time matters.
"There is time," she whispers
There will be plenty of time
Written: December 28, 2022
A Freed Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Written: March 05, 2025
***********************
As the final petal droops
upon quivering leaves,
while the soul begins to decay
akin to the evening lights
fading into a coffin.
Tears flow quietly across vacant rooms,
sheltered in the hidden retreat,
of a hapless fool folly.
Aged and forsaken, an ancient blade lies
on a ragged oak table.
All around the termite-ridden
floorboards are strewn with
tattered sheets of stories.
Valiant voices of victory,
vibrate in vivid verses,
preserved with lively Ink.
Decades of disarray have faded away,
leaving behind a cherished tale,
its inked revelations whirl into a frenzy,
as I peer through the glass,
reminiscing about those golden days
when my youth overflowed with joy.
I couldn't assist but notice
the drooping scarlet dahlias.
A gleaming golden crown,
sparkling with lovely
crimson queens
rests upon the head of a forlorn exile—
and that is all that remains.
Under the relentless sun
that preys upon the flames,
how can I rise above
the crimson chaos
that encroaches at the edges,
surrounding the ghostly grave
of the poetic soul
I have lost in the quest for acclaim.
Within the weeping window,
a wild wonder reveals itself,
draped in a vivid shade of vermilion.
Amid the whispers of wayward spirits,
the flawless porcelain of our past
now bears unsightly marks.
Fractured dreams are embellished
with delicate threads, while shafts of
sunlight slices through shadowy skies.
The family fortress,
frozen in cold stone,
waits for its wary wanderer,
beckoning the illustrious
to traverse its dimly paths.
In the serene silence of slumber,
the sorrowful saga emerges.
The embrace of eternal sleep.
A chilling chronicle of the collapse
cascades in the corridors
akin to a haunting harmony.
The aspiration and avarice
ultimately overwhelmed us
As the clock chimed cheerfully
at midnight on that chilling night,
the cunning usurper brandished
a blade and brutally
broke their beings,
birthing ghosts of grim,
unspoken words to weep
behind weathered walls.
At this moment, I am
the emerald evening
of the early dawn,
The waxen white wick
that waits before their
weathered tombstone is
withered to a whisper.
The Butterfly Flutters By
On a steamy, sun-drenched, summer Sunday,
tree leaves delightfully dancing to the tune of
a warm, welcoming, wandering breeze blowing,
metamorphosis now complete,
no memory of being yesterday’s creeping caterpillar,
the butterfly flutters by.
Blatantly, brazenly, boastfully,
showing off beautiful, brilliant, blue-black and brown wings,
gracefully gliding through a breathtaking, glorious garden,
the butterfly shyly pitches from blushing,
boldly-colored, buds to fragrant flowers,
cunningly outmaneuvering a competing, hovering hummingbird.
Slyly snatching a satisfying taste of tantalizing, syrupy sweet nectar
from attention-craving, Golden Flame Honeysuckle vines,
the butterfly flutters by
cheerfully and completely satiated -
perhaps, already dreaming about
tomorrow’s anticipated sugary feast!
05-25-2014
Contest: Highest Views (08-30-2015)
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
Placement: 10th
Contest: My Last Contest (02-17-2015)
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Placement: 4th
Contest: The Butterfly Flutters By (06-03-2014)
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Placement: 3rd
She rides on a sailing ship high in the skies
embracing creation of her wandering star
cheerfully greeting her guests.
Some pleasant and chatty,
some on occasion she may ask,
“Please don’t fall over me.”
Hawaii is where her heart lies;
and island of poetry that inspires her soul,
of orange sunset against sublime radiant blue.
She strolls up and down the tan beach,
enjoying the feel of warm grains of sand between her toes,
breathing in the whole innocence of beauty
as tears of joy blend in with the cool briny sea.
A place of timeless harmony
her peace of heaven
6/19/2017
A tribute to Connie Marcum Wong
Her poems are inspiring
This was a comment written by a friend; I know is if a fight breaks out on a plane and I'm your flight attendant please don't fall on me during your altercation ??
Christmas on the pacific islands where it's summer everyday
is all about families, friends, joy, love and foods
Though we are many islands and ocean divided
We are forever united with one God
Some small islands may not have
the Christmas colorful lights but in all honesty
they have the best blinking sparkling
twinkling dazzling star lights
they're beautiful in their dramatic and
eye catching lights like no others
We celebrate the birthday of Jesus
in our unique and organic island ways
We always say Merry Christmas
It's never about the material gifts
It's all about the warm joy of Christmas
Singing in tunes or out of tunes
we are clapping our hands
side stepping moving along to the rhythm
We sing joyfully loud in His name
Born is the King our savior
Praising Him highly
Thanking Him humbly
Lifting up our hearts to Him fully
Everyone is glee on life
Everyone is glowing with joy
Everyone shake hands to forgive those
with guilts, dislikes or with differences
Everyone shares a hug or two to embrace
love from one to all
Every woman is wearing flowers in their hair
Every man is wearing leis around their necks
as it is an island style and proudly so
Everyone is wearing bright new cloths and
shoes but mostly sandals for the ladies or
flip flops preferably for the sandy areas
It's a day of joyful to spend with loved ones
Kids playing freely and cheerfully
Sharing fresh organic local foods and
coconut juices
Naturally alcohol free but drunk on Merry
Partying till the stars are twigging out
Collapsing with satisfying hearts
And this is how we celebrate Christmas
on the Pacific islands... Smile!
Written by Akkina R Downing
12-1-16
Of parrots and parakeets, no one knows
now numbering in the thousands
no longer Mexico's bucolic birds
new urbanized citizens migrated
to the suburbs.
If you travel to Los Angeles and county
where hobo avians flock to Pepperdine
hoping to matriculate to paradise..
Pasadenans know the raucous calls from palms
festooned in bright feathers and pheromones.
Should you wish to elicit a response
from a Red-crowned Amazon..
just ask any witch cat which hungers
with an acute accessory olfactory
rife in feline grin and purpose
eye'n the skies cheerfully.
And somewhere Marianne Faithfull warbles
'this little bird who lives on the wind,
this little bird that somebody sends.'
they're listening too, with a coo and squawk
o'er the skies of Silverlake
and Eagle Rock.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This Little Bird sung by Marianne Faithfull - Lyrics by J.D. Loudermilk 1965
She was once young and immature
Delicate to the touch, fragile to the core
Always trying her best, yet being bullied
And despite all the ugly hurtful things were thrown at her, she was secretly hiding all the pain behind her smile
whilst silently crying in the dark where no one can ever spy on her.
She was a broken soul living in pretense
Fast forward to the present
She woke up a spontaneously changed person.
She’s grown and matured into a strong and fierce spirited woman-
She’s learned to set aside the pains from the past
She stopped allowing bullies and criticisms to affect her mentally and emotionally
She is cheerfully unconcerned about who do you think she is
And she is especially without a care of pointless drama
She is healed, she’s proud
She’s got the wheel and in control of her own happiness
She is now daring and passionately enjoying the blessings of the present
Akkina Downing
11/5/20
For those who rise above haters and bullies
By clasping the lightning string
I reach the sky
Wondrous view there, I spy
Sitting on the fluffy clouds
I roam everywhere
Outspread clouds, my magic chairs
Crafting shapes out of clouds
I drive a dinosaur,
Sometimes rabbits, lion and omnivores
Goading the animals
I explore the sky's grandeur
And search for the heaven's door
Seeing a big dark black figure
I shout aloud
He does magnetize all the fluffy clouds
No shades of blue, all black now
I sit on top there
Wondering, is everything fair?
Suddenly the thunderstorms drum
I cascade down
As a raindrop and reaches a town
On seizing me
A child in the town, grins cheerfully
And the entire town, receive me gladly
Glimpsing above
On seeing the dark black figure, they bow
Gratitude for having his darshan, they show
Not all angels wear white dress
Plenty of them are in disguise
I perceived!!!
September 18 2021
*Darshan : an opportunity to see or an occasion of seeing a holy person or the image of a deity.
I heard a bird singing
As I was on my way
It led direction for me
As it took my breath away
It warbled cheerfully,
From a tree above the snow
It spread its song gleefully,
What kind of bird, I wanted to know
I heard a bird singing
Its melody surrounded me
I turned in circles bringing,
Each note closer, to be free
It sounded like spring, in winter
A happy, fresh new start
Helping to release the splinter
And heal the pain within my heart
Heidi Sands
2/22/20