Best Coaxes Poems
he enters the room
coyly she tugs her skirt
just a bit
enough to reveal her shapely legs
tossing back her golden tresses
she shakes her head
just a bit
hoping to attract his eyes
tiny shift of the derriere
she takes long, gentle strides
just a bit
has he seen her yet?
bending to reveal cleavage
she winks as she pours champagne
just a bit
a taste of ambrosia from a vixen
“Sometimes less is more,”
she says in a deep, sensual tone
“Just a bit,
I saved the best for you.”
in the mirror she sees his eyes
they follow her
just a bit
before he saunters to her side
he kisses her hand
warm and soft
just a bit
camouflaged emotions become clearer
other partygoers stay inside
he coaxes her with flashing green eyes
just a bit
as he leads her to the lakeside pavilion
a vision in the moon’s soft light
she moves closer
just a bit
and whispers demurely in his ear
“Your place or mine?”
they giggle
just a bit
"Should we call the babysitter?"
Categories:
coaxes, romance,
Form:
Free verse
Ode to Autumn
Earth’s sphere of fire bids adieu to me
As dying embers gleam across the sea
In rare hues reflected by autumn trees,
Swirling in motion with October’s breeze.
I feel the joy this season has to share
In golden harvest that the branches bear,
And I am thankful for this blessed year,
For divine abundance I share so dear.
The sun and moon take on a special glow
As thunder clouds move swiftly with the flow.
Yes, autumn coaxes feelings to revive,
Those mem’ries of past seasons still alive.
When autumn spreads her dress of lacey frost
I know, in breathless beauty, I’ll be lost.
6-30-19
Categories:
coaxes, autumn, beauty, moon, nature,
Form:
Sonnet
Daffodil majorettes lead the spring parade
Mom fox had lured out a reluctant kit
Verdant grasses are growing lovely shade
For dainty dulcet purple violet
Gentle nurturing rain from day or two
Coaxes her lace lilac to gently wake
Meadow rainbow chiffon a lovely hue.
Faerie-felt awe surrounds beautiful lake.
Carpet of tulips arrive on the scene.
Growth can be felt every hour or two.
Resurrection of weeds, not being mean.
Cyclical magic for me and for you.
The woodlands, the meadow, the lake and the dale.
Rebirth of spring yearly, without fail.
Written Feb 24, 2019
Contest: Springtime Rebirth
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Categories:
coaxes, flower, spring,
Form:
Sonnet
THE SOUNDS OF A ROSE
The Red Rose speaks softly
with velvety smoothness, it beckons me
come, hear my song of gladness
as I sing a lullaby
The Yellow Rose has a sound of authority
beware the thorns of life as you are
pricked by unforeseen events
tread carefully lest you stumble and fall
The Pink Rose is the rose of love shared
it sighs gently like a lover caressed
it glistens with dewdrops like tears of bliss
and seeks to be lovingly cared for
The Purple Rose is a rose easily bruised
its delicate nature makes it vulnerable
the aroma it creates is sensuous, yet innocent
treat it with care lest you crush its tender petals
love it with a certain purity and it will be yours forever
The White Rose is the symbol of purity
the voice is that of compassion
as it pleads with all who see it
be ye kind one to another
The Black Rose speaks in tones of finality
as it coaxes one on their death bed
come to me on your journey to eternity
where will you spend eternity is his question
Embrace the sounds of the rose
when each comes your way
let them engulf you in the special manner
yes, embrace the sounds of the rose
Categories:
coaxes, flower, rose,
Form:
Free verse
Twilight’s fading light silently morphs into
A cobalt sky, with diamonds sprinkled
Twinkling, and the sweet scent of blooming
Jasmine lingers heady in the air.
Earth’s dark curtain coaxes tiny creatures
To sing their songs and move along
To gather food and feed their young
Without the heat of daytime’s sun.
Moonbeams with their gentle glow
Illuminate their little paths as friendly trees
Cast darkened shadows on the garden wall.
Dew drops form on blades of grass
And cover all in frosty white until the dawn
Draws down the diamonds from the sky to
To spread across the meadow’s peaceful rising.
*For Laura Mckenzie’s “Beyond Nightfall” Contest
Categories:
coaxes, life, nature
Form:
Free verse
As time of day draws near
It becomes very clear
That you become your
Loveliest in cool of night.
When twilight disappears
And the silver moon
Begins her stealthy climb
The humid tropic eve coaxes
You to slowly bloom....
Then in that evening air I
Become quite aware of
Your heady sweet perfume.
In the pale moon light I
View skin that's snowy bright
Like the flowers milky white
In the evening as they bloom.
Your beauty radiates in the dark
As you stand there in elegance
And grace, I can see about
Your lovely face, it's time for
You to get some sleep.
You retire in sweet repose
As Jasmine's petit petals close.
When lovers say good-night
And darkness turns to light,
It will be for you, my love, I weep.
6-1-17
A sexy surreal - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Lewis Raynes
Categories:
coaxes, beauty, flower, longing, love,
Form:
Verse
Belligerent bulldog blows up balloons, bulbous and blue.
Frantic frenzied flamingo flips for a flute and a flu.
Persnickety porcupine prances perilous with pooh,
Concerned calico cat coaxes a cardinal’s carnival coo.
Daredevil dolphin diligently designs dalmatian dog’s hairdo.
Serendipitous skunk sashays toward sticky sweet stew.
Lavishly laborious lion lunges into little linguistic loo.
Youngish yak yells and yips at yellow bellied you.
Categories:
coaxes, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form:
Monorhyme
We are dishwashers and bill payers, we have day jobs and night jobs.
Some of us are retired, I am not, because I know too many
who died after they did that.
They lost their purpose, and before they could find another one,
they gave up, and left their earth life.
We do not have any more time than the rest of you,
but we grab it up and use it in full force.
We have chosen a life few choose. We are word players -
writing on napkins and paper plates.
Grabbing whatever is near at the time, jotting down phrases,
rhyming words, and lyrics.
We knew that we could and we can, and we do because our souls
will not let us not do.
We are the dreamers, the schemers, the world lovers,
the imagination people.
We are the ones who invent the new things, and
tear up old ideas to make room for new ones.
There is a driving force that tells us we must.
I call mine Trixie. She is an inner voice that yells at me.
She has crazy ideas. She cajoles me and coaxes me.
She holds me down until I yell “Aunt!” so I follow her lead.
We are the poets.
Categories:
coaxes, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
In an era long since passed, an Oriental carpet adorning the
floor from far off lands seems to object to the
leopard skin beneath a fair maiden’s feet, yet this English lass
seems oblivious as she stares blankly at the floor
in deep contemplation of her sweetheart and suitor
standing a respectable distance from her
with his top hat humbly held in his hand.
His countenance is one of uncertainty, quite ready to
plead his veracity and intention should her father care
to honor his sincerity with an understanding ear.
He feels a bit consumed and cold standing near
the grandeur of the unlit hearth.
He is attired in his finest to court his fair maiden though
little notice is taken from her stern yet loving father who only
wants to see his daughter marry into a dignified and wealthy
family that will elevate his own standing in the community.
The young maiden’s mother is trying to sway her husband’s
judgment in favor of the young man to appease
her daughter’s romantic affections.
The young maiden’s mother, dressed in an exquisite expensive
pale pink ensemble makes a stunning statement of breeding
and manners as she softly coaxes the kinder side of her husband
to appear by placing both hands lovingly upon his breast.
Her father’s clenched fist reveals his determination not to give in.
The lovely maiden spent hours readying herself for this special
occasion, the day in which her young man would come to ask
her father for her hand in marriage. She had been trying to calm
herself by embroidering his initials on a dresser scarf until
her young man arrived, as evidenced by her sewing container opened
partly as she hurriedly placed the scarf back in when he arrived.
Now listening to her father’s words of rejection she holds little hope
of a future with her beloved and contemplates her life without him.
Yet as her mother pleads her case for them to be together she knows
there is very little her mother asks of him he can say no to.
Categories:
coaxes, conflict, family, first love,
Form:
Narrative
I am house shopping
with the required Buyer's Agent,
also a fairly tolerant friend of mine.
She likes to drive
although not gifted with any sense of direction,
until we hurriedly arrive,
then she beelines into the ubiquitously requisite lock box
as if by smell.
Meanwhile
I visit current occupants,
the trees first and foremost,
then bushes
flowers,
occasionally, to my grateful surprise,
an entire garden,
or even just one vegetable,
a tomato plant,
a humble gang of shaded herbs.
I ask them how it is here
in their home.
I like to taste their soil
for signs of pregnancy
but who knows what contaminants
might fester here.
And my real estate agent,
although a friend,
finds it unseemly
for me to put my mouth around
what I probably won't buy.
She, too soon,
coaxes me away from my greet and meets
with shade-givers
and grasses,
the edible and ornamental neighbors
of the "big house,"
to explore the darkness of plumbing
and electrical systems,
attics and basements,
kitchens and bathrooms...
Her list of boring things to look at
and too often smell
in a bad way
feels endless
in comparison to too brief introductions
outside,
speaking with,
listening for,
hoping and faithing and loving with
any signs of life
among these large majority of property historians,
co-investors,
cooperative care-givers and receivers.
Eventually,
it becomes our time to aimlessly wander around
in search of yet another lock box
on our life For Sale list.
I say goodbye to the trees
and shrubs,
my occasional edible
and more popular ornamental hosts,
far too soon
to ever learn
if they would choose me
or not
to become with them.
I feel like I do
on election nights
when winners and losers are announced
by statistical projection
before votes are actually counted
from all us co-investors;
and long before registered voters
have listened to trees
still standing in our yards,
on our farms,
in our fertile forests,
to learn their quieter discernment
of which candidates produce more healthy cooperative outcomes
and which more toxic competitions
within these diversities
of Earth's wealthy nature.
Categories:
coaxes, culture, earth, health, home,
Form:
Political Verse
Christmas Panic at the Pole
With only 12 days before Christmas,
Santa‘s concerned with the weather report,
the sleigh has a major malfunction,
needs repair and the time’s running short.
All the elves have themselves in a panic,
their shifts running twenty-four seven,
their tired and stressed but are doing their best
with remaining days numbering 11.
The reindeer are poised and polished,
Santa conducts their inspection with praise,
with the flight plan officially filed,
they’re all set to depart in 10 days.
Rudolph is fighting a head cold
But Santa knows he’ll be fine,
Santa rubs him with Vicks, with a hot toddy mix
cause he has to be ready in 9.
Bad news from North Pole repair shop,
some parts for the sleigh might be late
and there’s no time for home delivery tonight
as the countdown continues to 8.
Mrs. Claus and her singing elves,
entertain in the hall till eleven,
she has to confess as she plays all requests,
she’ll be glad when its over in 7.
Santa’s caught double dipping the eggnog,
with 6 left he has gained one more pound
those cookies and chips have gone this hips
he’ll be lucky to get off the ground
Mrs. Clause coaxes Santa try on his suit
they look at each other with dread,
with 5 days to go, it’s three inches to tight,
she looks for a needle and thread.
Well, tragedy has been averted
the sleigh’s fixed and Rudolph’s alright
with only 4 days before Christmas is here
looks like everyone’s up for the flight!
The Elves throw a disco party
Santa’s soaking his feet instead
with 3 days to go what he wants most of all
is a good night’s sleep in his bed.
The North Pole workshop got buried
in a blizzard with 2 days to go,
Santa summoned the elves at 3am
to shovel 12 inches of snow.
The presents are loaded, the reindeers prance
Christmas eve is finally here
Ho Ho Ho Santa cries as he flies cross the sky
“MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR”
Liz Labadie -Reilly
Categories:
coaxes, christmas, children, humor,
Form:
Quatrain
(from The John Poems)
My lover is the wind
One moment sighing a gentle caress,
The next, a hardened batterer
I cannot stand against.
He is fire
Bestowing light and warmth
Then raging, consuming
Leaving destruction in his wake.
My lover is the ocean that soothes
With eternal rhythm;
He is the killer wave erasing all
That stands in his way.
He is the earth that nurtures
And coaxes life from rock
Only to tremble and shake
And swallow what it has given.
My lover:
my architect,
my destroyer.
Categories:
coaxes, metaphor, passion,
Form:
Verse
THE FORTUNE SEEKER
The parrot peeps through the tiny window
The fortune teller coaxes it to take a bow
Expecting keenly the parrot from the cage
to come out and gently pick a page
to tell his future; the young man wants to know
Looking at the ceiling, he recalls his past
Confined to bed, the old man looks lost
His near and dear ones desert him
like passing clouds; pastures not green as it seem
With blessings for all, he waits to breathe his last
........... Suresh M Iyer
Categories:
coaxes, introspection,
Form:
Limerick
Over trite words, wind resounds song of stars
to soothe ‘neath a diamond-encrusted sky.
When dawn’s pastel sun shines down from afar,
We’ll remember our twinkling lullaby.
Eve’s cradle song transcends sun’s birthing cries.
A newborn horizon filters fresh light.
Morn breaks too soon, solar display’s contrite.
As sun of broad blues coaxes us out, lest
we retreat in night; our souls to recite
wondrous chorus of glory through darkness.
Categories:
coaxes, sky, song, stars, sun,
Form:
Dizain
Through my window pierce first spry rays of sun
tingling energy hovers over me
like a coat waiting for a day of fun
effervescence tickles my skin with glee
Eyes shut tight I let myself be nudged by
a giggly infantry of mini faeries
aided by a mischievous butterfly
together keen to take on the breeze
As my eyes brush off the teasing sunrays
I linger in every precious moment
fresh morn air percolates in spite my laze
coaxes me to greet the sublime ascent
Cool air kissing my face like an eager puppy
Too excited Wake up Wake up Why so sleepy
Read on air by invitation ~ May 2, 2020 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 1st place 2022, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on April 12, 2020 for contest STRAND PICK 10 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - HONORABLE MENTION
on July 21, 2018 for contest YOUR FINEST SONNET sponsored by MARK MASSEY
and on March 6, 2018 for contest SUNSHINE SONNET sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON
Categories:
coaxes, fantasy, good morning, morning,
Form:
Sonnet