Best Contentedly Poems
I held an angel in my arms today,
A precious babe snuggled against my breast.
And my heart was overwhelmed with so much love,
As she lay contentedly at rest.
I watched her as she slept so soundly,
Gazed at her cherub face in sweet repose.
I marveled at her tiny features,
Like her dainty shell-like ears and button nose.
I brushed my lips against her downy head,
Her skin like velvet to my touch.
I gave thanks to God above for His priceless blessing
Of this little angel girl I love so much.
The birth of my first grandchild has awakened,
A joy that my soul cannot contain.
From day one my heart's been captured by her,
Firmly caught and held by love's strong chain.
8/9/13
Entered in Shadow Hamilton's "Your Favorite Old Poem" contest
Purring
contentedly
just being with my love
and basking in the afterglow
of our ascent to the peak of pleasure,
I now settle, spent and cozy,
in the crook of his arm
like a kitty -
purring.
A Little Piece of Paradise
An Eden-like orangery, her secret place for refreshing reverie,
a haven, from an abusive marriage, where her body and mind are free.
Away from a domineering, intrusive household,
her own favorite hideaway – a refuge from her unhappy world.
Here she is serene enjoying peace and blessed tranquility,
nestled in the nurturing bosom of this fertile orangery.
Contentedly she inhales the sweet fragrance of orange trees in bloom,
that permeates to every corner of this sunlit, warm welcoming room.
An enticing delight, time spent alone here is her singular vice,
as she lingers in the safety of this little piece of paradise.
Re-reading familiar poetic verses from a well-worn book,
she experiences sheer bliss sitting in this hospitable nook.
What joy communing with riveting Romantic poets,
like beloved Brontë, Browning, Rossetti, and Eliot.
Reveling in her sacred solitude, she relishes their consoling company,
amid thriving exotic orchids and other delicate tropical greenery.
Nothing compares to the immeasurable pleasure she derives,
from this brief respite with which her spirit renews and revives.
Before returning to a hard-hearted husband who is as cold as ice,
she clings a while longer to this precious piece of paradise.
07-18-2014
Contest: A Poem in Paradise
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Placement: 2nd
The little imp bawled lustily
as it lay in its perambulator
there by the water fountain
in a secluded garden
right in the middle of a concrete jungle,
disturbing my elevated thoughts
that churned and churned inside my mind
on how to kill those pesky flies
that infested my rundown abode.
It was no use for me
to kick any brilliant idea around,
so long as that pesky brat
disturbed the silence all around.
Why even the doves stopped cooing
and other birds stopped chirping,
whilst most decided that 'twas best
to search for a quieter place.
So I walked up to his comely nurse
sitting contentedly on a bench
and scratching my unshaven face
I quite politely asked
why the little cherub cry so much!
She looked me up and down
and down and up, no doubt
disgusted by what she discerned.
"Maybe he's seeing a devil,"
she replied, cooing at the cherub
that made its bright new pram
quiver with yelping wails.
"Or maybe he's thirsty,"
scathingly I replied.
Cherub my foot, I thought.
And sighing I slowly repaired
back to my solitary bench
and thought and thought on
how I could kill those parasites
that bothered me as much
as that little cherub in the pram.
Morning Fog
This morning
when there is much to do inside,
there is fog outside my window.
The fog I sought two mornings ago
that caused me to dash to the car
in hopes I could grab a coffee
and sit by the lake,
witness to the softening of the world,
treetops indistinct, not yet awakened from their dreams.
By the time I reached the street
rain had dissolved,
captured,
drunk up the tiny molecules
of water playing fog.
I like rain, too, so I stayed on the road,
found myself coffee and a breakfast
by a temperature controlled fireplace.
Despite the rain, the little cafe
quickly became peopled
and I had to move on.
The soft shield of fog
was what I was hungry for,
not the food I left half eaten.
The desire to be
fogged in, alone or companionable,
putting thoughts to paper
or contentedly one
with the downy view,
the lack of detail,
the absence of certainty,
the enveloping moisture
making all things
remember
what it was like to be born.
We are all born
In some kind of moisture --
pushing through the dark damp soil,
or squeezed through a tunnel of flesh,
causing someone pain
for the first of many times.
Or we peck our way through
a fragile/sturdy shell,
wet with possibility,
or we're loosed with a hundred siblings
into a salty waterscape of danger,
calculating our chances.
For all of us,
our first vision must be a little foggy,
our possibility of success unclear.
But
every foggy morning
crawls into my soul
to whisper
what it could be
to be reborn.
Just having passed another year
In quiet celebration
I was reflecting on my journey here
Feeling still quite young
Yet remembering
What a friend just had said that we
Are now senescence
This comment startled me
Into thinking of where I am and where
I am going next
How many good years, are there
For me to really enjoy
Fifteen is my guess with more
That will be an unknown chore
So little but so many
How does that compare with the first
If I act now like I’m fifteen
I would love passionately with you
Start a new first job
Lay around in a bikini in my backyard
As the years go back, I would
Do less and less
Enjoy playing more with make believe
Make cookies and eat the dough
Have books read to me
Swing in a tree for hours, daydreaming
Wish upon the moon and stars
For a peaceful night
Until I just sit in a chair in a sunny spot
Stare out the window
Nod off to sleep
Then nibble on peanut butter
Licking my spoon contentedly, still
I would want to see you again
And dream of my days beside the sea
written 6-13-2020
One day of exploration in the forest,
Enjoying the view while taking a rest,
A whirling sound I hear from a distance,
Followed by sparkling lights. Oh what a glance!
World around me turn into a magical kingdom,
Colorful leaves, flying fairies and they look awesome,
I am lying on the bed of roses with a sweet fragrance,
Is it a dream or a nightmare that I witness in existence?
The soothing sound of waterfalls behind the tree,
Lovely fairies were bathing and smiling at me,
Unicorn with pure tame beauty standing proudly,
Ready to gallop waiting for me to ride in eternity.
If it’s a dream I don’t want to wake up anymore,
Winged tiny fireflies humming beautifully I swore,
Tall trees sway softly to celebrate a magical day,
I couldn’t stand still lying on the bed of roses sleepily.
I close my eyes to cherish this moment of happiness
Unforgettable and enjoyable day at the magical forest,
I utter a prayer of gladness and smile contentedly,
This is a great experience for me and the best day,
March 11, 2014
9th Place Winner
For Roger Horsch's "Magical Forest" Contest
You LOVE my poem (or you say)
Your glowing comment really made my day
I simply smile and am floating on air
Sit down contentedly writing at my chair
Enter a contest and wait…
The contest is judged - I await my fate ….
Sweet N/A
10th January 2015
I been seeing my life through a cloudy veil.
Although it was my fault, my own sight I did curtail.
I believed in going with the flow, how could I fail?
Until my soul I taxed with a enormous bill of sale.
Hesitation became a crutch that I demurely hid behind.
Disillusionment concealed from my unconscious mind.
Instincts I ignored, to my ego, that was unjustly unkind.
Creating a hazy web of sorts internally, once all combined.
I lifted the veil and my vision is suddenly crystal clear.
Insight of self, promises an astronomical year.
Finally squelching the doubts whispering in my ear.
Thinking positively, I make a leap in my career.
Independence is now something I truly embrace.
Confidence is stronger, my fears I do solemnly face.
Life is now full of possibilities, no longer an enclosed space.
Lifting that veil, I can now contentedly say, I found my place!
Cecilia Macfarlane
Adorable QuiQui
A green-feathered, yellow head beauty,
that’s my prized pet parakeet, QuiQui.
Even when she’s often crabby and snappy,
she succeeds in making me extremely happy.
QuiQui loves dipping and diving into her bird bath,
and hanging from a perch in her cage, like an expert acrobat.
She also enjoys shaking water from her wet wings,
gazing impishly into her toy mirror wildly shrieking.
Relishing her seeds and red strawberry millet treats,
nonchalantly she ignores my sweet endearments and tweets.
But she shows off her long, elegant, tapered blue tail,
Sitting silently and contentedly unloading quite a poop trail.
And even though QuiQui never utters a single word,
I know she secretly loves me too, my little prima donna bird.
11-11-2014
Contest: Pets
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Placement: 6th
Grab the keys let’s get into the car
Raring to go, we won’t travel too far
Everything’s packed inside the car boot
And I’ve meticulously planned our route
To the seaside for a treat this bank holiday
Everyone’s excited as we get on our way
Soon we arrive at glorious golden sands
Children hold buckets and spades in their hands
As they dash to dip their toes in the warm sea
Paddling and playing together so contentedly
Enjoying their free time as a happy family
Checked with rhymezone
01/12/20
A mystic rose smile that belonged to my mother this is what I recall
My easel and I resting in the spirit, by the grandeur of a morning tilt. As the
Yellow sunrays streak across the canvass, I think of Lamancha
Saffron and mom's tasty soups. Contentedly I paint away until a
Ticklish breeze brings me back to present stay. A lifetime away still I recall the
Indian sari she wore with shades of orange/gold lamer. Lustrous hair pulled
Carefully back, exposing two dark coaled eyes that shone like brightly lit topaz .
Red carnelian sun in tonal ranges splashed across a tapestry of love
Oxidized colors melding into the portraiture of Sahana, Matriarch of Bangalore.
Smiling at the camera a thousand watts from Lalbagh Botanical Gardens. Her
Energy exhumed inside the sketch my recollecting fingertips
Subservient hands cupping my tiny face, "My little turmeric "
Maybe you'll be an artist some day, she spoke with her eyes
I like to think she was the reason I succeeded. Her every word a
Laud accolade. I remember the day I held my first paintbrush
Every time I pick one up today, I think of my mom and a village called Aluru .
November 19, 2021
She sat by the river facing the crimson sky
watching the birds fly towards the coral sea
sitting prettily on a blanket of lavender tie-dye
she ate her tangerine contentedly as can be
Accoutered in a dress the shade of lilac jelly
she matched the lemon trees of green and Chi
wearing watermelon rouge from the Deli
she smiled, for everything was fine and peachy
A dolphin slapped the chartreuse water with his tail
"look above" he said, watch the parasail
an aquamarine cloth flapped against the wind
and a sign appeared, "marry me, Rosalind!"
She stood on her toes waving at him bold
then flipped her hair of yellow saffron gold
plucking a mallow from behind her ear
she yelled, " I will marry you my dear"
April 18, 2021
Contest Name: Changing Colors
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
colors used: aquamarine, crimson, chartreuse, coral, lavender, lemon, lilac, saffron, tangerine, and watermelon.
I can think of no better contentment that can be had,
Lounging in my robe and slippers comfortably clad,
Than relaxing by the hearth in my favorite chair,
Gazing at the dancing flames, ah, nothing can compare!
A winter storm rages outside piling up drifts of crystal snow.
I checked the thermometer and it read twenty degrees below!
But what care I as we settle in for an evening of respite,
Sipping Berringers White Zinfandel on this Holy winter's night!
We reminisce about the past and things for which we aspire,
Dreamily watching the glowing embers of the dying fire.
With music softly playing and the lights turned down low,
I light my pipe, savoring the aroma and its mellow glow!
I make room for dear old Simba as he curls up on my lap,
Purring contentedly and taking his usual evening nap.
My spouse prepares a bowl of piping hot popcorn for a treat.
I couldn't ask for anything more to make the evening complete!
In the autumn of my life, such simple times I truly treasure.
With my love by my side, I'm satisfied beyond all measure!
The grandfather clock measures time in its inexorable way.
Oh, that time would stand still that I could forever relish this day!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in Linda-Marie's "Holiday Hearth" Contest - November 2011
One of Zeus’s daughters
has been whispering in my ear,
so quietly and soft
she must be very near.
Her unexpected presence
to leave a word or clever phrase,
is genuinely welcome
because for them, I get the praise!
People tell me that I’m good
and I smile contentedly,
waiting for the muse again
and the words she’ll leave for me.