Best Coral Poems | Poetry
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New Coral Poems
Don't stop! The most popular and best Coral poems are below this new poems list.
The Coral Blue Ocean Reefs
by Golden, Gregory
High Jinx At The Okay Coral
by harris, matthew
My Coral and Pearl
by sudhir, reshmy
Blood and Coral
by Cozart, Dale Gregory
A Coral Garden
by White, Darren
by Harvey, Eugene
by von Buchholz, Garth
For my best friend Coral Clark
by Padilla , Shawn
Jimmy Buffet-Coral Reefers
by Konos, Judy
haiku 63 About A Coral Reef
by Chircop, Charmaine
View all new Coral Poems
The Best Coral Poems
October: I'm eighteen, shortcutting home
through an autumn-burnished churchyard -
copper-lustred leaves, moss-skinned stone -
a jaunty swing of skater skirt and arm,
college folder square-sturdy in my hand.
In the moment. In the last pale pulse of sun.
"Hey, can you tell me...?"
I halt. I turn...
Cold earth. Colder blade dimpling my skin.
My coral cameo earrings scatter,
daisy-dotting the green.
My back is spiked by needles of yews.
Sun skews, sky side-slides
until his face is the firmament.
I'm staring into the tumid blank-bloat of blue;
the ground hardening beneath me,
the death-spike trees stiffening.
Heavy Special Brew breaths.
Grubby, moist fingers
like grubs crawling over my breasts,
and, weirdly, I'm smelling pepper -
horror-spice of pungent lust,
its acrid nose-thrust -
and woodsmoke is drifting from somewhere...
of searing words - his words -
blazing like the umber tumbling leaves.
Fear-forced bargaining, but I'm beyond care.
And I'm aware
of the church steeple rising,
its phallus penetrating sky.
The tilting church could topple
as tears crystal-crush in my eyes.
Fear-faint, already half gone
in a soundless scream, my muted mouth
mouths silent goodbyes
to Sarah, to Mum.
Time slows to a crawl.
I try to call. Nobody comes
but the man who has me ground-pinned.
Bleachy stink of semen
whitening my ripped skater skirt,
but some things don't fade
and there is no clean in this, just dirt,
wet leaf-mulch, shame.
Sacred soil is soiled, sullied.
Stunned, I stumble
into the trees and heave
into the mud, into the leaves
strings of spittle-sick,
my thoughts strung out,
reality spun out.
From stinking, pulped leaves I retrieve
crushed coral earrings,
my white court shoes
that whitely scream the 80s,
the scattered tatters of essays -
white, like fallen feathers, sunk in the sludge,
muddied, the red-inked words bloodied.
I gather them together.
forward into my future, stained from pain
and tainted touch, the smears of fear, self-disgust.
And oozing slime-soft into my ears
the mire of incongruous apology: I'm sorry
don't tell anyone - I won't.
Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2016
Coral life forms in copious swarms
feast in the Cambrian chyme,
dividing their cells and forming their shells
to end on the seafloor as lime.
Tectonic churning and magma upturning
renders marble whiter than bone.
The marble is mined, but the cutters are blind
to the angel confined in the stone.
A young sculptor arose, with a bend in his nose
and a transcendent creative spark,
charged with ambition to fulfill a commission,
an angel for St. Dominic's Ark.
An artist sublime who will live for all time,
his genius is to see things not shown.
For an angel to achieve he first has to perceive
its splendor enclosed in the stone.
At dawning's first glow he surveys the tableau
of the blocks the stone cutters supplied.
In some he sees dreams of potential themes,
but only one holds an angel inside.
“A beautiful thing never gives so much pain
as does failing to hear it and see it.”
The block that he chose was rejected by those
who then lied and claimed to foresee it.
With talent and skill he falls to with a will,
surrounded by rubble and relic.
His method you see, for the angel to free
is to remove all the bits not angelic.
Michelangelo’s art for all time stands apart
but there's something further to heed.
For there's a bit more to the fine metaphor
in the tale of the angel he freed.
“A beautiful thing never gives so much pain
as does failing to hear it and see it.”
For in all our insides a bright angel abides
and is just waiting for something to free it:
to remove all the parts which harden our hearts,
to chip out the darkness and pride,
to smooth the rough patches, to polish the scratches
and unshackle the angel inside.
© January 26, 2013
Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2013
Listen to poem:
I know you're not here
but you are in my heart
you are always with me
i'll just slip into you
with these words.
there are mountains
dwarf the cities below
peaks that stride above the heavens
attempt to graze the planets if even so lightly.
there is a special star that rises daily
against shades of air lit.
They tell me
there is a wide deep void that is grand - a canyon
not too far for any adventurer who dares to look down its throat.
Our world is tightly splattered in miraculous views.
I remember diving through the horizon
where on the other side
I found intricate scenes
I walked down a dock straight into an orange wine sunset
through to steps led to a bridge
walked across to an enchanted glitter covered road
to a winding path with a floating pink shaded fog
until I wandered into an explosion of nature.
I witnessed a mud escarpment
with splashes of burgundy, shades of maroon,
tones in burnt copper and chestnut browns.
I found a rare waterfall
rushing down into an inviting pool
a crystal clear deep blue lagoon unused
around it emerald spruces gathered in a cluster of trust.
All in all so alluring I willingly stripped bare and melted into
the refreshing fully chilled basin down to its coral bottom.
I was greeted by an array of tropical aquatic life.
Nude, free, happy
I swam in the simplicity of the moment.
Another time it was
a blinding white wavy desert floor
totally stripped for miles,
just one live growing plant
it looked like tall fanned out verdant fingers.
what a thin shadow it cast.
A bright blue scrim provided a contrast
framed for a photographer to snap.
Floats in white,
were frozen in place
and not a wire was evident,
just motionless etchings.
I sat on the burning sand
took a position and meditated.
rebounded off the thickness of the sultry atmosphere
I heard my own voice return to fill me.
I bathed in the simplicity of the moment.
I love this world
All its treasures
Not all of nature
Not the sun that lights the day
sprinkles the skin in its brilliant sheen
or the moon that with
its romantic smile
its alluring suggestions
seduces even the least romantic of us.
Not the miraculous
vegetation of every kind
or the moss laden beds where lovers have often laid as one
linked to one another - inspired by natures erotic whisper.
I would sacrifice all else,
just to breathe in your love
just to bathe in you.
You my passionate want.
Our love is my Mecca.
When I hold you softly in the strength of my arms.
Touching your face sends shivers through my consciousness,
holding your hand is like plugging into bliss,
watching your mouth,
the dent above your lips,
you know I overdose ecstatic
when mine touches yours.
I want to stay - mine on yours,
as we speak, as we dream.
How I love your smile your laugh.
I hold you in the enchantment of my mind.
I caress you in the secret chambers of my dreams.
I cherish your scent - infinite, singular, invigorating.
I roll with you in the autumn leaves of my imagination.
I wish you everything - for you are everything to me.
I would if I could
I would reach beyond my grasp to,
to pull Magic from my hat.
Squeeze a snowball into a skating rink
just to dance on water with you.
I will love you into our after life,
no man as fortunate as me.
They say reach for the stars
you may end up with the moon.
I got you,
No man as fortunate as me.
Let me make every step you take safe, secure, pillowy soft
try not to faint from the sheer fragrance of you.
Together we are sunset shadows,
shadows that will never fade.
Imprinted permanently on the iris
of the early evening sky light.
do you remember back when we just met
do you remember when it started to sleet
when we used the bark from trees
to toboggan down the circled path of the mountain
we hit the brakes
from the branches of a spruce
lit them like matches on kerosene
and i really think the smoke filled
travelled to our heads
even before the sleet turned to hail
we slipped under the lawn
spent hours and hours
covered in each other's silky embrace
and i confess i peered at every drop of you
treated my eyes to your
nothing but you
i held that moment
fragile as it was
with the greatest of care
and hold it still with the same reverence
and i really think nothing should feel
it just led us to lock lips
and you know i could of kissed you
passed through it
as if it were a fraction of a second
our hearts synced
and i really think that
melting into the air
playing like music
is what drove us mad
and i get very creative
when i go mad
the stuff "crazy good" is made of
it must of worked because
we finally reached the peak of our crescendo
laid in the sublime of one another
i must of loss consciousness
i still don't remember our rendezvous ending
but it must of
because i immediately
felt your absence
and i really think that's why
i wrote you
why i wrote
wanna slip under the lawn
and i really think that's why
why we've been
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
I shiver tears.
My joie de vivre;
summer esprit’s lemon zested
lilac flirts and coral whispers have escaped me~
grievous gray now flows through my veins.
I shiver melancholia,
entombed with my winter blues
in the dark dreamless hollow of my frowning igloo.
Draped in decor of dispirited drear
I wear a wistful woebegone fog,
an overcoat of overcast moods
sown of sneering sunless, scentless days.
I weep wall to wall
in the long light-less nights alone with my lonely longings~
my psyche withers
a little more each dull day, I shrivel.
I shiver sadness,
my colorless tears cry out loud for color;
yearning for watermelon sunsets, pink sands
and swirls of marigold kisses,
for rainbows to color my lackluster laughter
and fireworks to celebrate in my mirthless eyes,
for Sol’s warm hands to tenderly undress and caress me
and lay bare my soul straitjacketed by winter blues...
January 4, 2018
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Free Verse: Winter Blues
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018
My love, the world is ours,
its reflective sapphire oceans,
its turquoise pine tree forests,
its topaz colored days,
its moonstone lit evenings.
My love, I'm certain it's us.
The amethyst citrine painted sunset
called our names right from its onset.
You are my never ending wide open sky
with a red orange coral moon up high.
So radiant is your glow, a sparkle in flight
how you shine - a spectrum of colors like light
through a crystal clear white garnet.
Your hair like flowing strands of pearls, crests
lightly to sit brightly on your opal shaded breasts
with their dark red inviting rubies set.
Your emerald green stare gentle with its powers
like diamond brilliant rays during sun showers.
Your divine allure
so true and pure
oft blinds me
and when I see
I see only you
like the jade dew
covers the morning lawn
on a sardonyx dawn.
You are the gem drives my joyous life,
the precious stone keeps my dreams alive.
You are indeed a jewel rare,
"who" I ask "could compare?"
Sponsor: Carol Eastman
Contest Name: Your Favorite Poem Contest
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014
The pungence of heartbreak swelters
in the tangled dreadlocks of love-lies-bleeding
Take me somewhere exotic
to breathe not the foul aroma
of disappointment and despair
Show me fields laced with frangipani and orchids
in colors sweet and light as daydreams
Find me seafoam fields poppied
with pomegranate and honey
opium of jasmine lilting on a leeward drowse
delicious sift of sand drifting
warm and soft between my toes
as coral breezes court flamingo scapes
with pina colada suns
and I drift in and out of hibiscus euphoria
Let a mist of cockatoos flutter
in lapis skies puffed with fat feather clouds
parrots and toucans preening
like a rainbow shimmer
Tingle my pineapple senses
through the afterglow of mango afternoons
Create visions of paradise
in the cerulean of hyacinth
and never bring me back
Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2017
Across the white sand waters
meld of teal and turquoise hue,
in sunlight, emerald facets,
in shadow, grays of blue,
first breaking light of heaven,
tinted sky in tones of shell,
dancing lights, pearl pink and saffron,
fleck the bosom of the swell.
On waves of crisper coral
the majestic sun ship sails,
bright bride aflame in glory
blushed beneath her misty veils.
Such beauty blinds my vision;
my gaze is downward drawn
to vanilla foam soft swirling
in the footprints of the dawn.
Copyright, April 16, 2014
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
Walking past each other and just by chance
My heart skips a beat and my knees turn weak
Your eyes lock with mine in a fleeting glance
In a ricochet of emotion I just cannot speak
Our time cut short on that exotic island resort
Mutual attraction that grew, our emotions weren’t slow
But alas contact lost aft’ that last kiss at the port
Intimacy so fleeting - regrets of letting you go
We were star crossed lovers on that fateful day
I remember that last time when you held me so tight
Now per chance we meet thousands of miles away
‘Neath the same blanket of stars and a moon like tonight ~ ~
* “As the midnight moon, was driftin’ through ~ The lazy sway of the trees ~ I saw the look in your eyes, lookin' into mine ~ I’m seeing what you wanted to see
Darlin' don't say a word, cause I already heard ~ What your body's sayin' to mine You’re tired of fast moves ~ You’ve got a slow groove ~ On your mind”
Swirling sparkling shades of colours that mix and smudge
It’s been so long but there’s no cause to rush
Run you lips on my neck feel our naked skins touch
Nipples a tingling and a warm spreading flush
Your soft slow hand feels like flitting fireflies
You whisper my name, I’m enchanted tonight
Soft moans of pleasure and my passionate sighs
Play with me, sway with me and feel my delight ~ ~
* “You want a man with a slow hand ~ You want a lover with a easy touch
You want somebody who will spend some time ~ Not come and go with a heated rush Baby believe me I’ll understand ~ When it comes to love, you want a slow hand”
My nerves aglow like the tips of optic fibres
Your touches trigger firework displays to ignite
Seeking and teasing my spot of torrid desires
Impatiently craving our eminent fusion tonight
Opening like a flower dripping with a dewy spritz
Ecstasy overflows with your slow hand in motion
Electrostatic sparks on my tongue, skin and lips
Sip my summer wine that’s the nectar of my passion ~ ~
* “Darlin', don't say a word, 'cause I already heard ~ What your body's sayin' to mine If you want it all night ~ You know it's alright ~ I’ve got the time”
I tantalise your tumescent core with silken caresses
Erotically teasing you with tiny feather like tickles
Like the soft waving flutter of butterflies winged kisses
Thrilling sensory overload of silver waves and ripples
All else out of focus on a soft cloud of passion
Exquisite pleasure on the crest of a fire
No words that are needed or any explanation
The endless waves of emotion that transpire ~ ~
* “You got a man with a slow hand ~ You got a lover with an easy touch
You got somebody who will spend some time ~ Not come and go in a heated rush Baby believe me I’ll understand ~ When it comes to love, you want a slow hand”
My hips arching high meeting your ardent thirst
Fill my ocean - savour my delight
Rhapsody of fluttering sensations - a volcanic burst
Come with me - the world’s ours tonight
Basking in the enchantment of an afterglow
An amorous haze of amber swirls and coral sand
With crystal clear waters and sparkling sand below
At long last I’ve found you in this island fairyland
My appreciation to RP (the Reluctant Poet) for his creative input on a delicate sensual theme that we’ve all experienced sometime.
POTD 16 Aug 2017
* Lyric 'Slow Hand' Music and Video Clip Citation and Reference:
Video Clip and Lyrics 'Slow Hand' by Phantasm 2000AD Published on Nov 2, 2008 Elvis Returns Standard You Tube licence.
All rights of the Lyrics, video and track belong to the original Copyright owners. The original Lyrics written by J. Warren Bettis, first released sung and released in May 1981 by the Pointer Sisters and subsequently sung by various artists including Elvis in the above clip.
Lyrics of the song in quotes and italics and referenced with and asterisk has been transcribed as a read to be followed with the song. It is not intended to be or claimed as part of the above poetry verses.
Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017
We drifted not far from shore -
a delicate night with supple air entire,
black and white until patience sent us grays
that rocked with the boat on the slight swells
which gradually reflected the star colors
azure and indigo, carmine and beryl,
sang to us in laurel and rose
verdant with coral and mint
emeralds peeking between pinks,
sapphires that told us of every prayer
ever whispered to them.
I was coming a long way back
that time in the empty park
where all I had were fears that I'd never heal.
In an instant it was all done and I was found
that day I saw your eyes.
The moon set in silence beyond the land.
A gentle wind turned the boat to the south.
Distant rain sent water washing the earth.
Just for a moment we touched the surface of all things.
I love you.
February 23, 2017 147 words
Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2017
There’s an old river course with beginning and end,
now the river runs straight without this river bend,
where the water is still and the reeds do grow strong.
New life has taken over in a billabong.
The mat rush is spreading replacing the sedge,
and old fallen gum trees lean in from the edge
creating a haven in the shelter below
for smelt or gudgeon, and the common minnow.
There’s a ring on the water, so danger is nigh,
and life is now over for one caddis fly.
Dragonflies hover on their predator flight,
so mosquito and midges best keep out of sight.
There is many a song around a billabong
to break up the still with an assembly throng
from birds of the forest, and wading birds too,
so the billabong offer is there to pursue...
... for blue heron and egret, coot and the teal,
and for the banded rail that the bulrush conceal.
In the billabong shadowed by gum and ti-tree,
bellbirds are tinkling; wattlebirds disagree.
An oft-diving grebe keeps on searching for food
for the striped downy chicks of its latest brood,
and a hunting kingfisher waits keen for its prey
from a twig of a gum tree it frequents all day.
There is many a scent around a billabong,
filling the air with the perfume quite strong,
from black wattle and mint bush, or mistletoe
cascading from gum trees where only they grow.
Painted lady butterfly flit upon flowers,
and blue banded bees keep on working for hours
on lilies and orchids, heath, sweet appleberry
and clusters of flowers on a native cherry.
Ribbon weed, nardoo spread out in the shallow,
with buttercup, duckweed; an introduced mallow,
struggling for survival near the water line,
aiding coral pea that does lightly entwine.
The banks of a billabong are dangerous too
with predator snakes not so often in view,
but they are aware, that the growling grass frog
will climb from the water onto an old log.
But tigers and copperhead, red-bellied black
often lay in the sun on an overgrown track,
where the wombat or wallaby travel along
to graze on native grasses near the billabong.
So life still carries on around the billabong
where water looks stagnant, a bond is still strong
with a river now rushing it’s way to the sea,
past the billabong living, where the course used to be.
Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2015
The trail to the peak was a long and arduous climb
Which skirted a pristine glacial lake about midway.
Shimmering below, it offered a cooling balm for the heat
And a picturesque spot to rest and refuel for a while.
A short down-climb led to a high cliff that overhung the depths
Of aquamarine waters; crystal clear, revealing a rocky bottom.
Chartreuse lichen grew from the wetted rock face
While damsel flies of cerulean hue darted to and fro.
In the shade of a small oak we were content to eat our lunch.
From our vantage we watched the cutthroat trout feed;
Rising to a caddis hatch. Splashes of watermelon, coral and saffron
Under their jawlines divulged the source of their strange name.
Fronting the shore, a spacious open meadow served as a refuge.
A doe and twin fawns lay surrounded by tall grass and wild flowers.
Tangerine bells, snow-white lupine, and purple daisies with lemon eyes
In hues of lavender and lilac covered the park in waves.
After a short dip in the icy waters, we took a few moments to gather our things
And reflect on the beauty and grandeur of this unknown retreat.
Truly we were blessed, our bodies, minds and souls rejuvenated
As we climbed the slope to continue our trek to the snow-capped peak.
Seasonal Color Contest
Sponsor: Dale Gregory Cozart
Copyright © Dean Wood | Year Posted 2017
Pacific beauty, garland of shimmering pastels
Textures and colors astound, deep in your ocean heart
Your court is larger than any kingdom on Earth
And hosts grand balls and parties,
Shimmering schools of fish dance in unison
Anemones gather by the thousands
Each more vibrant than the next
Grand plumes of algae sway like great banners
In the streets of your endless coral cities,
Lost happily in orange towers
All fathoms deep, cradled by warm currents
Erupting and tumbling and breathing,
The jealous coast watches, the winds bow down
Salt and scales glitter like stars in your sky
Oh magnificent belle of Queensland!
All Hail The Great Barrier Reef!
For PD's "7 wonders of the ancient or new world" contest
Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013
and she said
Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams
but today I live in my daughter's happiness
All my goals I left behind to watch her reach her own
All my friends I do not see,to stay with her at home
Money might get tight,but what is money
compared to pure joy of a child
What is money compared to her almond eyes
Success lies dormant on shelves for years to come
But what is success compared to first giggles
to first steps, first mouthfuls and her little grabs
Compared to gurgles and babbles
to first time she calls me mama
and hold on to my hands
What is beauty in the world compared to a pearl
This innocent child,a coloured coral petite pretty girl
Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams
But today I live in my daughter's happiness
I had my days of wine and chocolate eclaires
roses on doorstep,unsigned love letters
with spiced cologne and enticing words
Today I live in my daughter's shadow
To watch her live her own dream
I watch her bloom in autumn gardens
from princess of hearts become queen
Tomorrow I will not be here
She might not get to see the white of my hair
the wrinkle in my smile
But,today she knows I love her
long more after petals wither
long more after a mother's hug fades
long after I shine from the sky.
Dedicated to my beloved Christina with love
Happy first birthday wrapped with barney hugs
and Winnie the pooh kisses :-$:-|B-)
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2013
As the last opalescent glow of sunset
I sail this ship alone
towards a crimson horizon
over a starlit sea
to the soft lapping of waves
which lullaby my destiny
I sail this ship alone
far from the coral sand
far from the pebbled beach
far from my sun-kissed land
Tonight there is no moon
but there's a sparkle in the sky
a starry night so still
filled with beacons of bright light
Tomorrow births a new dawn
a song within a dream
meadows of yellow buttercups
and fields of evergreen
Tomorrow I'll be greeted
by a pink-winged butterfly
a host of daffodils, and golden dandelions
a rose within a smile
Tomorrow I stroll along a new shore
feel fresh salt spray on my cheek
dance bare-foot in the wind
as Spring whispers on the breeze.
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014
Violet, a lovely lady, kin to Purple, can be a contradiction.
Between her fellows Red and Blue (yet more inclined to Blue),
she lies with a calm passion! Unique and unconventional is she!
A symbol of humility, through the ages she has listened to confessions
as she draped the shoulders of Roman Catholic priests.
Yet often in society, she’s been seen as extravagant and vain!
Just for having embellished the rooms and the attire
of monarchs, emperors, and princes,
and just because Violet is flattering to the yellow found in gold,
should she then be punished for her wealth of beauty?
Should her shades with other lovely names such as
Lilac, Lavender, Amethyst, and Mauve
be seen in any other way as simply gorgeous?
Perhaps for her ambiguity as she shifts to deeper reddish hues
then back to cool blue, she is perceived in western culture
as uncertain and ambivalent, for she is not popular with the masses.
Van Gogh, however, understood her,
painting her as irises and showing her in swirls of stars!
And in the oriental world, where she is extolled,
she radiates the sublime harmony of the universe,
as the melding of the yin and yang of red and blue.
Violet, who sometimes spreads herself splendidly
across the twilight skies
and peeks out from rainbows,
is a beauty so rarely seen in nature
that the birds, stones and plants that she enchants
are not even too numerous to name.
Have you seen her purple pearl or coral in the sea?
Have you heard the song of African violet-backed starlings?
But oh! Violet loves flowers. . . Besides her small sweet namesake,
She colors crocuses, petunias, asters, geraniums and pansies.
Not many other things in nature does Violet cling to,
yet she adores the grape and plum,
and with a certain whimsy, she’s charmed purple cabbage,
the turnip, eggplant, and beets!
Rare lady in nature, Violet, my adored, why is it that you are not more loved?
As I cross a field of lavender and breathe you in, the answer to my question
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
I looked to the sky
hoping to find the face of God
in the billowed clouds
I dived in the sea
thinking to discover Him
in coral beauty
I searched all the earth -
deserts, meadows, forests and
white tops of mountains
I watched a sunrise
till at last it dawned on me
sun poured down golden
I had been seeking
what was there in my plain sight
I had found my faith
Form is SPLIT HAIKU
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016
The sun and moon conceived a star
shooting through time and space
born within the ocean
delivered upon its waves
while Beethoven's sonatas softly played
nightly gales whispered those tunes to all the seashells
beach sand passed through coral reefs
as soles of lovers feet tread buried in beach fires deep
begging the earth most humbly to draw a breath
but over the cliff the hurricane's wind blew until death
from those turbulent ocean waters came a sailor's truth
watching a passing ship with broken sails and ghostly crew
waiting as death cast it's ending shadow old, yet new
sending those born in ocean waves back to the waters blue
in birth and death none shall overcome casting us away to where
everything was once created in it's hidden depths
and there began an understanding between birth and death, a truce
Inspired by: John F. Kennedy." We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch - we are going back from whence we came."
Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012
Brian Strand's May 2018 Premiere Contest
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015
A millstone around my neck
and weight about my feet
drag me down so deeply
that I’m being pulled toward something. . .
something from a darkened dream - nihility -
the place to lose chagrin
and then to taste absolutely nothing.
Tropical delights do not swim here
to brighten the dingy water of my plight.
No rainbow fish dart to and fro
where murky disillusionment oozes
all around and through me.
I go lower. . . .
But above me, I can barely see
a tinge of rose and of blue,
a sparkling distant light
as the void below crouches,
tugging at my soul.
Hope, through ocean’s skin,
peeps down at me.
Rays of reassurance come gleaming through
the layers of my gloom’s descent,
and be it from God. . . or from simple human will,
Prospect calls to me.
I feel wonder as gravity relinquishes its hold,
and the restraints around my ankles now fall off!
The millstone is released.
Unencumbered, I ascend.
Up, up, up I go -
bursting to exhale and to take into my lungs
a refreshment of sweet oxygen.
A final surge of spirit. . .
I’m breaking the surface,
And the coral glow of breaking day
rushes forth splendidly
to greet me.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010
Colours of Parisian Nightlife
Lemon meringue sweet laughter light,
Fills shadows cerulean blue.
Café de Flore’s summer hot night,
Where dreams tangerine rendezvous.
Six strings strumming lavender notes,
Tones, violaceous lilac lace.
Heartbeats delicate music floats,
Vibrational lilts ears embrace.
Conversation thrills with saffron..!
Hints, amorous in coral blushed sheen.
Lashes flirt, lush flattered chiffon,
Intentions are aquamarine.
French liqueur sipped yellow chartreuse,
City of lights summer hot bliss.
Inner glow - inhibitions loose,
Watermelon lust; wet french kiss!
~ 1st Place ~
For Contest: Seasonal Color Premiere
Sponsor: Dale Gregory Cozart
*Poem must include each of the following colors:
aquamarine, cerulean, chartreuse, coral, lavender, lemon, lilac, saffron, tangerine, watermelon
Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2017
A bevy of wavelets rushes to the shore
while on peach coastline, this quietude I feel,
Under the alloy of rocks not seen before
A hidden water-world encrypts its frothed zeal.
The dolphin in tungsten leaps, and then again
With a belly raised to a marmalade sky;
And another whirl...free like a rust-toned crane
Breaths in awe, an enchantment is my reply.
To be fed by April’s torches, amber- lit
when lazy boats sail on coral of Celeste…
and coiled tides gather a fragrant melon quilt
exulting my Sunday’s pause… my hours’ fine rest.
Silent One's united Colors, Orange
Optimistic orange--uplifting, rejuvenating
11 syls per line
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016
I will always hate the colour of orange. Consider:
Last meeting was on promoting sales of necklaces,
The folder given was orange.
Going home was a one lane affair,
An orange sign stated “Works Ahead”.
Orange traffic cones lined the lane on each side.
Arriving home I found my wife had installed orange curtains.
By which time I began to have some shivers.
Dinner began: orange pumpkin soup with orange buffalo wings.
“Come dear have some orange juice laced with orange vitamin pills.”
Opening TV and orange Garfield appeared.
Even the Cheetos and Utz Cheese Balls were orange.
Turning to a book what do I get?
A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess.
That’s when I began to really hate the colour
For even the goldfish had the same colour.
“Is it possible in this world it’s all orange?”
My wife thought about that and said:
“Oh no my dear, there’s salmon, carrot, coral, titian….”
Disgusted I left the house towards a verdant park.
5 March 2016
United colours: ORANGE
A Silent One Contest.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016
dizzy, from my shameless lust
i paint your mouth with mine.
nipping, brushing faces,
breathing you like oxygen.
my fingers, my lips, my tongue
upon your naked back
draw a map to my destination
via the scenic route no doubt
for your wet lips.
make a meal of this
Lost in the carnage of our intimacy.
I move with the fervor of a ravenous beast.
Your body undulates
to the movement of my mania.
Juices glow like the fountain of youth.
I move in and out
conduct a symphony of pleasure,
bury my face deep
in the sweet skin of creation.
waltz against a canvas dark
pin holes of silver dust.
in a friction free atmosphere
a sweet honeysuckle taste
a foreplay crescendo.
I the ocean,
tide after tide
the ebb and flow
a sculptured reef.
The screams of seagulls in the air,
rushing waters eternal
breaking hard and fast
the sunken coral.
a multitude of tidal waves
tight as one we hold
freeze in the heat of our moment.
It must be an hour now
you are lying at my side.
your head on my chest.
I play with your hair
stroke your flesh
our eyes meet,
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014
Dusk seeps lapis
The horizon looms
in blood and coral
from peacock plumes
caws of darkness
into the coming day
into salmon blooms
Early Summer Premier Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2017
When my child hastens to her pillow,
To close her eyes and dream;
She drifts away with stars to play,
Where magic paints the scene.
Mermaids with their tresses wild,
Dance beneath the sea;
And dolphins sing their vesper hymn,
Among the coral tree.
Faeries dance in filmy gowns,
In woodlands dark and deep;
With stars to trim their silver crowns,
While blossoms rest in sleep.
She dreamt of a pixie painter,
And watched as the vision grew;
A violet smiled beside him,
As he dipt his brush in dew.
He painted all to please the mind,
The shades of earth and sky;
The buds of all the roses,
And a light in the bluebird's eye.
At last the dawn is breaking,
Rosy sunrise paints the skies;
My darling is awakening,
As she rubs her sleepy eyes.
Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2011