Best Comes Poems
Softly and sadly
Up on the knoll;
The vesper bell
Begins to toll.
Lock all the doors
Blow out the light;
The hour is late
Sleep comes with the night.
Close all the windows
Smother the fire;
Sound slips into silence
When mortals retire.
Downstairs is deserted
No one in the hall
Nirvana of sleep
Rules over all.
A day's work completed
Now done like the day;
Rest is now needed
For those made of clay.
How soft is the night
Where dark shadows fall;
The seduction of sleep
Captures us all.
To take each day as it comes
To gratefully praise The One
Joyfully face the new dawn’s grace,
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
To guard my thought as it roams
On anything or anyone
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
To be careful with my words
To use the value of my hands
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
To do everything I can
And bring a smile to not just one
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
To celebrate other’s gain
Not consciously cause another's pain
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
Not all the time comes the sun
For sorrow comes to everyone
And that I must understand.
To take each day as it comes
And know that I’m but a man
I will be glad, life’s not that bad
And do my part in God’s plan.
*A resolution during a time of disappointment.
Kim Patrice Nunez
04 August 2015
image credit: Edwin Hofert
Thirsting, thirsting. . . shriveled earth
suffocates in summer’s dearth,
yearns for rain clouds’ forthwith bursting:
Shriveled earth. . . thirsting, thirsting.
Browning, browning in their beds,
flowers parched hang low their heads.
Daffodils once bright are frowning
in their beds, browning, browning.
Dying, dying – every field,
withering, to fate must yield.
All the world is sadly crying,
every field – dying, dying.
.
Whirling, whirling, comes a wind
arid and undisciplined.
Stagnant heat, pent-up – unfurling,
comes a wind, whirling, whirling.
Whipping, whipping through each plain
(while ignored are prayers for rain),
final blows come swiftly ripping
through each plain, whipping, whipping.
Burning, burning. . . August’s lust
leaves us nothing but the dust.
To dust we soon may be returning:
August’s lust – burning. . . . burning.
An oldie poem of mine that fits my feelings on how the earth
is responding to mankind's disobedience. I hope the world
awakens to the evil around us in time to negate this fate.
For Unseeking Seeker's 'Soul Betrayal ' Contest
No matter how distressing
Everything comes with a blessing
A bitter divorce
seems wrenching, of course
Yet through its crucible of fire
you can emerge inspired
Both legs blown off in the war
What's left to live for --
See what you have that remains
your whole upper body
and all of your brain
The death of a child so painful to bear
For the longest time you just sit and stare
No easy 'answers' to comfort you
but perhaps there's this ~
You're still here for a reason, that's not to be missed
In the silence; haunting echoes I can hear
A choir of angels soft and sweet,
Gently, I wipe your mournful tears.
Eternity beckons, drawing you near,
Strains of harmonious refrains that repeat,
In the silence; haunting echoes I can hear.
Worries and regrets no longer will appear,
Heaven has prepared an eternal royal seat,
Gently, I wipe your mournful tears.
Rest my dear, put aside your doubt and fear,
Though shadows fall, you rise and claim your feat,
In the silence; haunting echoes I can hear.
Regret no more, the lonely years,
You will be home, an eternal place, replete,
Gently, I wipe your mournful tears.
A vision shrouds the room and it appears
There is a table being prepared, a blessed fete,
In the silence; haunting echoes I can hear,
Gently, I wipe your mournful tears.
Date: March 1, 2022
For: Original Villanelle Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L. Milton Hankins
Placed 10th in contest
Was the Poem of the Day (POTD)on March 3rd, 2022
I wonder
If ever a day would come
That
You and I, my friend
Would
Refer to ourselves not:
As an American, Asian, or European
As black, yellow, or white
As a Christian, Muslim, or Buddhist
As friend or foe
But
Simply as brothers
Inhabitants of this planet
That
Care and love one another,
United under the flag of humanity
With
One nationality
One religion
One God...
I just wonder!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 September 2021
* I would love to share the honor of POTD with all of you my kind friends, who always support me with your gracious visits and comments. I thank the officials of PoetrySoup for making this possible. May God bless you all with health and happiness. Remember, we are all brothers and citizens of the city of God!
When Autumn comes, she saunters in.
paints asters blue and streaks the skies
magenta! When chill winds begin
to susurrate, we hear her sighs.
Wearing multi-colored dresses,
when Autumn comes, she saunters in,
capriciously shakes her tresses
and with bright leaves then loves to spin.
Cavorting with the clouds within
the summer-ending skies of blue,
when Autumn comes, she saunters in.
But soon the woodlands she glides through.
Not long will Autumn stay too calm.
October sees strange pumpkins grin -
not like her onset days of balm.
When Autumn comes, she saunters in.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
When Winter comes, remember me
beside you on those ivory sands
If frozen fingers reach for thee,
arise and fling aside her hands
As you awake on shortening days,
when Winter comes, remember me
We'll pray that Frost forsake his grays
and set arrays of color free
Light snow may fall so subtly,
bright notes on parchment sheer as sleet,
when Winter comes. Remember me,
that I might play each shimmering sheet
Short interlope of Summer gone,
I'm owed no scope of reverie
but hope you will, from this day on,
when Winter comes, remember me....
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Confused silence swirls around my feet,
and the anguished summer leaves,
drunk with the morning dew,
are lingering limp.
Waiting for autumn
Preparing to crumble and mingle with earth
Somewhere beneath them
under the thunder and a tremulous sky
earth wears the scabs of old wounds
There are places that can't be forgotten...
corrupt with mourning
sprouting with questions
immersed with regret
hollowed with anger
and shadowed by trees of despair
Birch-bark faces, heads bent low, shadowed eyes
stone-cold voices, are carried in the wind,
held captive behind disguise
Mute birds watch without a song
The leaves will decay, green goes, and the eye forgets
But can the heart forget? Never....
How does one walk away
while pawing on the hard and bitter earth
of reason, remains impossible...?
Autumn comes
and autumn goes
I can only live in hope that baffled minds
will clearly see a winter sun
and give up blaming ... who?
_________________________________
MAY SHE COMES
May she comes, quite boisterous, and so loud.
She melts the frost to orbs of liquid dew.
From dark of moon returned to full and proud,
and waxes bees and moon in breath she drew.
Centaurus follows May with eyes of night,
while pressing Crux and Virgo into play.
She'll gather breeze and scent within her flight,
and tuck their luscious song in her bouquet.
May comes wooing with her amorous hook,
and kisses deep and laughs at each and all.
In lustful flirt she holds us with one look,
and we're in love with May until the Fall.
May she comes, dressed emerald in French lace,
Sultry, yet always innocent and chaste.
By Edlynn Nau
© May 1, 2016
Frail humans we are and mistakes are made,
but there will be a time to pay
for pain inflicted on others.
Run swiftly from dark clouds hovering above,
baggage like an albatross around our necks --
cast it aside.
Commit to offering kind words,
compassion to all,
bestowing brotherly love.
Make amends when possible
for harmful acts, even negative thoughts,
and promote harmony.
When we stand at heaven’s gate,
we’ll not be asked about material possessions,
but how much love we gave.
The prince and the pauper
will be judged as equals
when the tab comes due.
*Entry for Paula’s “How Due You Dew” contest
Written September 8, 2011
When the rain comes in blunt despair
With swords of Thor's thunderous wield
The clouds drape darkness everywhere
As light surrendered, as hope kneeled
Where desolated gloom revealed
A drab landscape that once was fair
Limbs barren in deserted fields
When the rain comes in blunt despair
Drowning sunsets in silver flares
Tomorrow's rainbows lie concealed
In mazes of charcoal nightmares
With swords of Thor's thunderous wield
This is where all your heroes yield
To stars laden in disrepair
Where souls sink, murky and congealed
The clouds drape darkness everywhere
When suns are lost and moons are rare
The mornings cut apart and peeled
The sky is strangely unaware
As light surrendered, as hope kneeled
When shelter remains unrevealed
And the horizon appears bare
Allow me to become your shield
Against the snare of sharpened air
When the rain comes
3/11/23
She was tragically wounded in her fragile heart
Betrayed by her lover, the one who tore it apart
with vile words and deeds he chose to impart
leaving her as addled as an abstract work of art
There comes a time when what was is no more
The strong become weak, the rich become poor
A delicious apple is simply reduced to a core
Hearts drawn in sand are washed from the shore
Sometimes life gets twisted by anger or fate
Things loved suddenly become objects of hate
When burgeoning signs of Spring arrive too late
There comes a time to have patience and wait
Budded flowers bloom before they wither and die
Truth is found to be nothing more than a lie
Relationships flounder until they go awry
There comes a time to whisper, "goodbye"
There are times we cling to hope, running deep
When mourners no longer have reason to weep
When we'll scale mountains, too high and too steep
And sowers of seed have bountiful harvests to reap
Things change with time, as dark becomes light
Tides ebb and flow and black fades to white
A golden sun bows to a silver moon at night
There comes a time to make wrong things right
We wear life as a cloak, a cloth of fragile weaving
Mended at the seams when ripped by deceiving
There comes a time to put an end to the grieving
In yourself, you must always continue believing
A chrysalis becomes a beautiful winged creature
The ambitious student becomes the wise teacher
Disbelievers find faith in Lord Jesus, the preacher
There will come a time when pain can't reach her
It’s said tomorrow never comes
Believe me it’s so true
I’ve got a massive list
Of jobs I’ve got to do...
Tomorrow!
I should not put off jobs
Until a rainy day
Unfortunately my tardiness
will just add to the delay
I promise I will get them done ...
Tomorrow!
6/2/19
There are those who will not hear the siren's wail,
But will know the wheat has turned pale.
Winds will sweep up from the south and the west,
His chorus of trees swaying bravely are Blessed.
Shields aside, faces lit in harmony,
Destiny, homogeny, all God's Children once more free.
Lightning, earthquakes, tsunami seas,
Herald His Coming while evil flees.
Shooting Stars, like hail from above,
Will cleanse us from sin on Wings of the Dove.
And balance in nature will sweep o'er the land
With God in His Glory
Grasp all in His Hand
12/12/21