Best Choral Poems
Cars are the wind on the streets
semi-truck wheels shriek thunder,
rain shatters against stone and brick walls
on dusty roads, oak trees fence with twigs—
wushu wooden clatters.
Dreadful arrays of dryads
azure and amethyst gossamer haze,
sleek, silken strikes gist an opera of wisteria,
as they sway to silver breeze's sibilant rustles.
They chant lullabies in lyrical lilts of hued iridescence,
of hearth and opals back to my scarlet nest.
Angelus silver trills, the sylphic sways of pure rays,
Coral rosary—incense strands of aurulent rimes
hum, endless hymns echo as choral evensong
alleluias softly peal out—doves with wet eyes
that drift upward on whispery—ethereal wings.
Ocean's plea emerges from apothic abyss,
a voice conveys the core of faxed shores and stars,
with earth and wind in a solemn tone.
A cosmic biography—in loud squeals and sighs
sea vernacular hinges on nature's lasting awe.
Breath goes to fog—snow melts into puddles—rain returns,
a china-white grave—encases the deceased deer,
before thawing in the morning—icy skin lies frozen.
An eerie distance holds my hand in a purifying blizzard.
“When I am silent, I fall into the place where everything is music.”
Rumi
If life was a song,
what would be your refrain?
When instruments of fate performed
in a ballad of somber sorrows,
I floated like a ballet dancer
in an eclectic fashion.
My silent tongue had no melody,
before love sowed harmonic tones,
in a reverberating remedy of refreshing
rhythms soothing a tortured soul.
As my voice softened in a symphony
of violin strings and saxophone vibratos,
our bond composed a chorus of notes,
like satin feathers from hummingbirds
in soft clarinet choral chords,
only heard in an orchestra of a
velvet butterfly renaissance.
You always have my songs on repeat,
but I wonder if you will change the record?
Together we write lyrics,
sing verses as distant duets
with drumbeat dynamics.
Yet I am a metaphor of saffron rays
lost in the absence of lilac moonlight.
Everyday you disappear with dawn,
as morning whispers her blessings.
I'm left alone with birdsongs,
who join in with my colourless chorus -
echoing my angst of yearning to be free.
I wonder if you will remain a twilight sonata.
If you are the ebony to my ivory keys
in this crescendo of bohemian dreams,
why can't we be boundless as the sea?
This vinyl veil we call existence
is a composition of heartbeats
with heartstrings woven into
a vibrant bridge of emotions.
Sadly no pedestal can reach
lingering lullabies of the sky,
so we continue to cast hues
of golden heavenly harps,
before final tenors are heard.
If life was a song,
our refrain would be an acoustic
with steady beats, sometimes
with too much bass to air -
but we can control the volume.
Tempo will always change
like a decrescendo,
but we are the conductors
of our own musicality.
Not all serenades sounds the same -
no muse sings forever.
“A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more than you love me?
Beloved replied, I have died to myself and I live for you.
I've disappeared from myself and my attributes,
I am present only for you.
I've forgotten all my learnings,
but from knowing you I've become a scholar.
I've lost all my strength, but from your power I am able.
I love myself...I love you.
I love you...I love myself.” Rumi.
When you cry,
I wish I was those tears,
rolling down your cheeks,
dripping upon your strawberry lips.
I yearn to reflect like rainbow dust,
so you mirror like a confetti mosaic.
But in the duration of distance,
I walk barefoot upon a path of
dead roses, whose thorns are
covered in crimson drops.
In between the phases of pearls
and eternal embers in our sky,
I cannot sleep when you remain awake.
Afraid the moon will steal our dreams.
Time is an impatient muse,
but my adoration is timeless.
If only we could pause
and move in slow motion.
With the humility of Rumi.
My words are a colourless chore,
my mind a moth-eaten blank canvas,
but when you appear before me -
I'm a poetic waterfall of ivory ink.
In periwinkle petal phases
of personification, place my
choral carnation blossoms
in chronological chapters -
inside the personal memoirs
of your porcelain soul.
We are fragile figments,
but our serenade is not a fable,
so I keep writing orphic poems,
portraying your innocence and honesty
through an opulent sonnet,
reflecting your moonlight majesty.
Revealing desires of an enkindled heart.
If prose is too simple,
I'll create you a mausoleum of metaphors,
so when silence suppresses my speech,
my arrows of alliteration
will protect you until your last verse.
Before my last breath,
I may not create a perfect masterpiece.
So I wonder if my words will be worthy
or will you forget me
like the others who wrote before me?
In your analogies of abandonment,
I am a pristine scarf in your suitcase.
When I surrender to time,
will you wrap me around your skin,
until the end?
When rainstorm shadows
cast raven woven blankets,
entangling between
the boundaries of
fantasy and reality's reach,
we search for soft glows
from serenades of slumber,
where we embrace
the quilt of night.
In restless dreams
a dandelion soul yearns
to reside within the realms
of conscious thought.
Traversing towards
an enchanting valley
where fields of lilacs
and bluebells surround,
laying foundations
for rows of charismatic
cherry blossoms,
peacefully resting
among a myriad
of kaleidoscopic roses.
Above, azure horizons
reveal the naked sun,
whose radiance shimmers
upon sapphire waters,
delicately blowing
a refreshing breeze.
Lucid choral images
illuminate the mind,
with visions of
an ethereal epiphany -
too difficult to define.
Her heavenly muse
echoes a majestic lullaby,
beckoning hallelujah hearts
to oblige in beats of
unexplainable expressions,
so suppressed thoughts
bleed in turquoise waterfalls.
Barren lands
soak in reflection,
as distance decreases.
Eyes admire in
a silent reverie.
Enticing two isolated
soulful minds to
chant in a chorus
of hummingbird hymns.
An abundance of
amorphous aromas
enchant and enrapture,
as senses blaze into
passionate provinces
of aurora aspirations.
A ruby renaissance of
rhapsodic romantic
musings reverberate
string less symphonies
into the once,
charcoal chambers of a
redeemed, fluorescent
lyrical couplet core.
In ivory harmonies,
venturing upon a pearled path
not known to lovers before,
beloveds search for
a secret garden -
home to Michelangelo's
cathedral of paradise,
yearning to savour its
celestial artistic ambience,
but upon the
zenith of enticement,
unwelcome Lilith skies
slyly and silently encroach.
Heaven recalls her
halo shaped silhouette,
as petals agitated
by spiteful winds
fall into murky waters.
Feathers remain,
floating helplessly in
puddles of regret.
Smoke clears,
as clarity reveals
white concrete walls
with broken blinds.
Nature's beams
breathe a deep sigh.
How sad,
time does not care
for our dreams.
This morning I woke up and bend my knees
To enter the highest of holy place
Here from my Patmos to see the Shekinah seas
And taste the eucharist of grace.
I am praying man, for prayer is the only eye
I have to see the things unseen
The promise of choral trumpets in the sky
When from this life I am weaned.
Sometimes day's burden invisible gets heavy here
Until I lift my prayer up
When suddenly cares like clouds disappear
From the proffered cup.
O I bend my knees to give HIM thanks, to ask
For favors for my friends
And in HIS peace awhile with HIM to bask
Till blessing for my children descends.
I pray for country too, and strangers far unknown
That they for therapy could shake
Some compassion from compassion's throne
And know the joy I have awake.
It was a romance only seen in forgotten dreams.
An Oscar winning script written for movie screens.
Her ethereal sight was the ultimate pleasure.
Her eyes an enigma full of enchanted treasure.
Her voice sang like an orchestra of angelic harmonies.
Softly serenading sensual spiritual symphonies.
Captivated, we danced like butterflies - fragile and soft.
Seduced by her aroma, all inhibitions were lost.
Our hearts met like waves resting upon twilight's seashore.
Then I said those words my tongue had not revealed before.
As we lay there, silently gazing at stars above,
I spoke a language declaring an immortal love.
Instead of a smile, tears rolled down her tender face.
Confessed her secret of being from another place.
She would disappear at the first sight of day light.
My heart bled a tear as we embraced tight for the night.
At dawn the horizons painted a rare aurora.
A final message from her celestial aura.
Melancholic from a love story that ended too soon.
Still to this day my heart yearns for her unique choral tune.
The Silent One
28 September 2017
Example for Love for movie screens contest
Voices choral, chimes of clay ring out
oh so merrily to a wintry sky
And earthen sounds once silent, still, now shout
in harmony and majesty, they cry.
A brightness sheers the air as metal sounds,
long cylinders of brass clink in the breeze
like childish laughter each fresh note abounds
a thankful note the past year to appease.
In churches, mosques and temples they sing
as clappers sound the tone around their rims
forged of metal, or blown in glass, they ring
resounding as the hours of this year dim.
Rejoice, rejoice a New Year has begun
Goodbye they toll and sing here comes the sun.
As I seize from greener pasture
Forgive me for taking away nature
lives have always been in vain
stopping them from breathing with pain
I toil never to hold my gun
with tears full of fun
The sleepless night became difficult
Because hunting was my cult
I regret taking away this joy of hunting
But not jolliness of killing
remembering the beautiful butterfly
and the choral singing of birds pass by
I never forget about the forest
even when I went to rest.
Allured ripples of sparkling lips
Through meadows fanned by fragrant breeze
Her face I’ve touched with fingertips
Along floral banks which appease.
While waters brisk with melody
Aid one's journey to buoyant sea
The choral breach of hymnody
Welcome the waves of sonic glee.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Serenity – From Fall to Freedom
A Ballad of a fearless teenage girl takes on a dare at a dangerous skate park, soaring through the air before a devastating fall changes her life forever. Years later, now a young woman bound to a wheelchair, she finds herself caught between two worlds—the harsh reality of her injury and the limitless expanse of her imagination. As city lights fade into stardust, she drifts into a realm where she can move freely, unburdened by gravity, her spirit untethered. In this cosmic sanctuary, she floats beyond sorrow, releasing the ghosts of her past.
Yet, even in reality, she refuses to be defined by loss. Strengthened by love and resilience, she carves a new path forward proving that true freedom comes not from movement, but from the boundless power of the mind.
But where will her journey lead?
Lyrics
Note: You can also follow the lyrics by clicking on the CC (closed caption) on the video itself above or on my YouTube Channel)
In the sanctuary of sacred thoughts,
once more beyond the flickering line
where city lights bleed into starry skies
steel birds soar on winds sublime
Is it fated or forged by will alone,
choral voices sing
and sing to her alone
Serenity - Serenity
in an air of reprieve.
reality melts away,
where once deceived
She floats—
adrift in cosmic skies,
releasing ghosts
swift as they arise
To weigh her down - no jaded eyes.
a brand new world of stardust smiles
Awash in colours names defy.
celestial cosmos of limitless sight
Will you grant her one more wish
eyes closed tight?
Sanction fantasy and reality's converge in flight?
Serenity - Serenity
In an air of reprieve.
reality melts away,
where once deceived
She floats—
adrift in cosmic skies,
releasing ghosts
swift as they arise
To weigh her down - no jaded eyes.
a brand new world of stardust smiles
She floats—
adrift in cosmic skies,
releasing ghosts
swift as they arise
To weigh her down - no jaded eyes.
a brand new world of stardust smiles
Awash in colours names defy.
celestial cosmos of limitless sight
Will you grant her one more wish?
eyes closed tight?
Sanction fantasy and reality's converge in flight?
Serenity – Serenity, Serenity, Serenity, Serenity
Reflections of God
I feel God’s presence when walking o'er hills
In nodding heads of golden daffodils
In fields of green and crystal waterfalls
In trees standing proud, statuesque and tall.
I hear God in vibrant sounds of the woods
In murmurs of the breeze and babbling brooks
I find Him in the glow of risen sun
Fresh days and fresh pages to write upon.
I sense God's love flow through charmed symphonies
In enchantment of choral melodies
I seek Him in the dewy morning mist
In the sky when it has been rainbow kissed.
God’s revealed in roosters crowing refrain
In rain dancing upon the window pane
I rejoice in nightfalls scenic display
Stunning sunsets taking one's breathe away.
There's not a fragrant rose in June that blooms
Nor stars twinkling brightly around the moon
No clouds adorning the canvas of sky
That doesn't send reflections of God on high.
In the morning I will sing of your love...
* * * * * * *
19th October 2020
Your Personal Favourite Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L Milton Hankins
Reflections of God
I feel God’s presence when walking o'er hills
In nodding heads of golden daffodils
In fields of green and crystal waterfalls
In trees standing proud, statuesque and tall.
I hear God in vibrant sounds of the woods
In murmurs of the breeze and babbling brooks
I find Him in the glow of risen sun
Fresh days and fresh pages to write upon.
I sense God's love flow through charmed symphonies
In enchantment of choral melodies
I seek Him in the dewy morning mist
In the sky when it has been rainbow kissed.
God’s revealed in roosters crowing refrain
In rain dancing upon the window pane
I rejoice in nightfalls scenic display
Stunning sunsets taking one's breathe away.
There's not a fragrant rose in June that blooms
Nor stars twinkling brightly around the moon
No clouds adorning the canvas of sky
That doesn't send reflections of God on high.
In the morning I will sing of your love...
* * *
19th October 2020
It has been said you are all just bricks in the wall -
confined and coffined in concrete, your moments
magnified in mortar, souls stone-stippled.
But listen: you are as flowers, individuals efflorescing -
shy eyes of violets, fragile forget-me-nots
unforgettable in pews of blues, sunshine celandines
beaming from sunless corners, strident daffodil trumpets
with everything to tell. Some will grow apart -
wayside wanderers, wayward and cast out.
Some forever up against the world-wall.
You unfold as petals, to sing in tongues of the sun,
in golden tonals, corolla contraltos, a floral choral,
soprano sepals, hibiscus hymns to him and her.
Flowering through stone, blossoming through gloom,
though shadow-dusted with dusk's lilac bloom.
Baptised in the dew of the new which forges
a world anew, transformed by the higher light
which highlights your days, gilded pollen-gold.
Days lengthen as rays warm walls, edges and corners
sun-softening, souls becoming sun-stippled.
Listen: these are the petalled messages to you.
Our supposed modern scientific genius
May in fact just be our last fatal weakness.
This technological house of cards we've made
Left humanity walking along the edge of a razor blade.
How much could you buy or sell using debit or credit
If someone or something wiped out the internet.
A computer virus, terrorists, hackers, or an E.M.P.--
Will wipe out our hard-earned wealth eventually.
Killing beneficial insects is almost like fratricide.
Think really hard again about ever using insecticide.
How many fields of vegetable plants and fruit trees
Will ever bear fruit if there are no more bees.
Rather than organically producing more living topsoil,
We're killing what remains with chemicals derived from oil.
As chemical contaminants follows their downward motions,
Choral reefs and plankton are dying in the oceans.
As a species, we've all become germ-o-phobic neurotics,
Religiously trying to kill all microbes with antibiotics.
But pharmaceutical medicine will never defeat every bug,
So one of these days there's certain to be a super plague.
So will we all starve because we cannot buy or sell,
Or because the oceans and farmlands have all gone to Hell?
Will we be extinguished by some invincible virus?
What ever it be, the fault will probably lie in us!
I wish I could offer some brilliant inspired solution,
But remember that extinction is also a part of evolution.
You may write me off as some kind of nutty alarmist,
But people that know me consider me to be an optimist.
To become one
Even if moonlight is broken
and wild flowers wilt
beneath a stolen sun
lost in a twilight song,
sung in off key silhouettes
along a choral reef
drenched in caramel pages
of forgotten ink...
amidst an ocean’s marathon,
waving to popsicle patrons,
melting your heart
in every sweetness now
clinging to shirt tails
of written directions
leading away
Even if they take your hand
in cotton candy promises
and merry-go-round whispers,
those of endless phrases
of love’s poetic mist
gathering about your eyes,
enticing your smile
as if they are owed it…
hear my pleas in truthful cries,
teardrop wishes
flowing steadfast feelings,
beyond any rose petal stanzas
or peppermint verses
of unfelt meanings in
penned deception
luring you…
and walk with me,
so I may show you a place
among the hidden forests
and daffodil daydreams,
where you will know
my love is real,
where affection’s map
leads to a wondrous
treasure of happiness,
where the moon and stars
dance pirouettes
in tempo with
our hearts…
where we may
invite eternity
to become one…
with us
Good night Soupers
Have a great weekend
See you again on Monday