Best Cotillion Poems
I twist evermore past a cotillion of meteors
Spreading plumes across unknown rhythm;
A mad swivel with myself, thrilling my essence
In a hanging motion of a dip…I find myself alone
on the floor; my hem gathering night’s stardust.
And the saxophonist gazes at me from afar,
he smiles,
then disappears.
Dancing With Contest
Sponsor: Giorgo V.
by nette onclaud
Scrumptious sight of prairies and grass
Ardent beaming of flower buds and buzzing bees
Leafless coils, branches of trees become alive
Hastening! Arousing everyone's joy and vive
Everyone happy on cheerful springtime!
A cotillion trips and chirps of jolly birds
From some distance, I have started to heard
Fantastic shun and kisses of pretty butterflies
Tempting all species of flora and fauna to thrive
Welcoming, beckoning the heat of summertime!
First crisp of breeze, creating dew in morning
Canopy of red and orange leaves from branches, enchanting!
Turning the world into a canvass of nature's brush
Unnoticeable, such romantic dash making anyone blush
Revel, embrace the sweet amorous season of autumn!
Solid chilling raindrops of snowflakes
Giving warning: careful during breaks
Covering branches, bringing icy cold aches
Yet, skiing an exhilarating cool escape
Delight in the coolness ambiance of winter!
BY
olive_eloi
2:22 pm
02/26/2014
CONTEST: MEMORIES ON BRANCHES
SPONSOR: GAIL ANGEL DOYLE
4TH PLACE
Their fluttering starts in moonlight
When Luna reaches zenith height
She croons as butterflies take flight
Magical night Magical night
I was in awe without askance
Mesmerized as if in a trance
A cotillion of circumstance
Butterflies dance Butterflies dance
On nights when the golden moon sings
They flit in nocturnal musings
What pleasure to me their waltz brings
On velvet wings On velvet wings
What a delightful sight to see
When they whirl with grand revelry
Dancing with such joyful esprit
In front of me In front of me
It's a garden party soiree
Beneath the moon and stars they sway
A charming celestial ballet
Then fly away Then fly away
HOSTAGES TO FORTUNE
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“Luck—that’s what some call it, a capricious cotillion with probability, eventually holding one hostage to fortune…” quote by the poet
***************
Onlookers watch, brows furrowed with wisdom,
judging the inanity of my gambles, the absurdity of my heart~
the unwise pledge made to destiny and chance.
Is it luck I chase or a deeper current pulling me onward,
a commitment to something unseen~
a surrender to the unknown Hand that guides me?
Consequences sometimes sharp and bitter~
Are they lessons etched in pain or moments of grace,
divinely ordained, the Master shaping my soul?
Were my falls intended all along,
an awkward dance orchestrated by a Divine hand,
making me a willing hostage not to fortune but to faith?
Yes, I am a hostage, bound and gladly surrendered~
a devotee of faith's uncertain embrace.
In my captivity, I find the ultimate freedom.
"No sight is more provocative of awe than is the night sky."
- Llewelyn Powys
Tonight it seems as if moonlight sings
and stars surround her in nocturnal musings.
Would that I were an angel with feathered wings,
I'd fly to bask within the golden light of her haloed rings
I stood in awe of her without askance
Mesmerized by the sight as if I was in a trance
Agasp of the night's celestial beauty with each glance
I imagined they were enjoying their cotillion with a dance
Suddenly a shooting star took the stage
in a solo ballet, it's swan song earned with age
Brilliantly it gleamed with flames as if it was in a rage
I was breathless watching it glow, then its death to assuage
From shadows, I quietly observed them tonight
watching the heavenly gems shining ever so bright
as the moon glimmered and stars shimmered their light
I was amazed by the magnificence of the breathtaking sight
The red gown rustles touched by the breeze
Fall's chilly rain drops drip with ease
Sponsor: Rick Parise
Contest: Crystalline
Theme:Autumn Oak
A beautiful fan of many a hue,
Feathers adorn it when opened, so
gently cooling the air with a graceful swoop,
When your subtle wrist moves to and fro.
Was Mamgu’s fan when she was young,
When to a ball she did go.
Hiding her face in a coy pose,
Yet eyeing you slyly, thinking, you didn’t know.
Gracefully dancing eyes lowered to the ground,
Fan to her face to hide the smile,
When dancing a cotillion with partners of four
Hands just touching heart racing a mile.
The fan held the key to their romance
Sliding it to her cheek she was saying, “I want you”
Holding it opened, covering the mouth.
“I belong to no-one, am here for you”..
Feathers
Penned 05/08/2014
Carol Brown
Contest Name
Bunny Rabbits
Bunnys down here are a winning,
lissa virus, keeps a killing ,
man made by the blest,
to kill off this pest,
free food in the great depression,
old soldiers lived on bunny,
but the rich ground them down,
Myxometosis killed millions,
first ever germ warfare cotillion,
the master looked and he frowned,
bunny is back, an is willing,
though the rich might put him down,
the wasters want his killing,
but the Swaggies food is still around .
rabbit trap and billy
and me pocket knife silly,
and i'll be westward bound ...
thank you Robert Hinslaw, cobber mate...
Don
Thank you for my place Carol.
cooler summer is this way,
looking for autumn, shortly hey,
thank you for my prize, incidently,
sorry 4 the sadness bunn-ne ...
but it is a crime...downunder all the time...
greed for grass the rich have see...
So called Rabbit plague, when the ordinary workers were getting a quid by selling Rabbits, which incidently make the Aussie slouch hat for the Army.
A free feed was not on, it's un Australian? So the hungry drought cursed Squatter ordered a
genocide for Bunny...Without Bunny the Aussies got a taste for the masters sheep instead as in Waltzing Matilda....
The Moon awakes
With the sleepless Stars
As the Earth settles to rest.
Venus keeps company
With rose-tinted Mars,
The Hunter saunters toward west.
The Bear wanders
And ambles around
While the Queen sits regally by.
The Earth turns
Without a sound
As they all glide through the sky.
The King presides
O'er the celestial display
It seems like a well ordered dance.
The cotillion continues
Til the dawn of the day
Across the grand expanse
(Constellations: Hunter = Orion, Bear = Ursa Major/Big Dipper, Queen = Cassiopia,
King = Cephas)
Bright and blue the dainty butterfly was
Kissing each flower “hello” as she passed
Gently landing on their blooms without pause
She scurried carefree, till enough nectar she’d amassed
Raised in captivity in Georgia’s butterfly pavilion
This sapphire wonder had never seen a storm
She mingled with other captives vermillion
All were colorful, but the blue one surpassed the norm
How could she know that Jeanette favored butterflies?
Or that my dear friend had but three months to live?
Can you imagine Jeanette’s surprise
When a butterfly landed on her arm with a kiss to give
Now when I go to the butterfly pavilion
I recall well that special day when my friend smiled
Jeanette’s home was decked out as a butterfly cotillion
And she danced to her death like a flower child
The joy it brought to see so many species
Reminded her of the butterflies adorning her home
A butterfly’s kiss is much gentler than a bee’s
Even those held confined in a garden’s glass dome
*Entry for Gail’s “A Butterfly’s Trail of Kisses” contest
By Carolyn Devonshire, March 31, 2012.
Bent glass danced light from windows over looking vacant playgrounds,
as Mr. Ingersall taught refraction and dispersion.
Rainbows tap-danced walls to chalkboard, brushing equations,
while impish hues soft-shoed solutions chased previously with tears.
From a lackluster world of rummy princes and fermented fairy tales,
the girl's heart tripped fantastic in the cotillion of blithe pigmentation.
The loud sound of deserted classrooms witnessed bewitching glass
sashayed away from the place of clips, red pencils, and unbroken chalk...
and light danced once for her in pentient denouement.
The Last Spike
Helios orb peers cautiously
with guarded optimism
through cracker-slatted clouds
as Thor's divine implement
shatters the morning stillness with the clap of a sonic boom
Mere mortals assigned Herculean tasks
trill a gospel cadence,
their labors heralded as glistening ribbons stretch yon and hither,
a tribute to their genius
and their genesis
Now, as the celestial cotillion materializes
in the ebony overhang
the spinning Mother bids 'Adieu'
as the last rough-hewn iron phallus
penetrates the porus creosote-drenched flesh
with a tempered satisfaction
known only to Gods.........
And those men who will be.
("Hell On Wheels" final episode)
my school colors
brooks brothers navy blue
and establishment gold
were God-awful choices
for Catholic girls
being educated beyond
their parents' means.
seventeen, out of high school
ready for life
without restrictions
I was prime
for the times
revolutionary ideas
about life loving and living
flower-power dreams
unbelievably believable.
twelve years of stateliness
and I was ready
for a tie-dyed change of mind
opportunity came
in a California cotillion
formal dress not required.
I left the "Beach Party"
two piece red-checked
belly-button cover-up behind
and never looked back.
LIGHT FROM DARKNESS
~ Pansies ~
:::::::::::::
Magenta
::::::::::::::::
Cornflower
:::::::::::::::::
Bittersweet
:::::::::::::::::
Stems, like jellyfish tentacles
Iris-eyes stare curiously
~ From ~
Winter’s darkest sable night
~ Yet ~
A source of awesome sunlight
Illuminates capacious sherbet hues
A spiritual source?
Artist’s hand on the wall?
Joy precociously leaps into outer space
~ Cotillion of unopened buds ~
hold their breaths in anticipation
Kim Rodrigues ©2017
We used to share dreams;
thoughts, my sister and me.
I occupied the top bunk, she the lower
in the cold, dank bedroom
we once inhabited from dusk to dawn.
Not prophetic dreams, the future;
we had no perception, illusions.
No exchanging, dissembled violent nightmares,
or nightly voyages traveled solitarily.
But joint adventures that filled the time
between awakening and permission to arise.
An alternative to staring quietly
at a half a dozen lazy flies
performing elaborate cotillion
around a solitary bare lightbulb.
The game was simple; A subject was agreed,
then tiny imaginary books pressed tightly
into blinkered eyes would lightly lead us
to places, we could simultaneously inhabit.
Seamless journeys to picture-postcard lands,
often hand in hand with much-loved authors.
Young Spanish kings, wise Arab princes,
Pink fairy queens and fiery golden dragons.
Flying, swimming, never falling, never drowning.
No words spoken; vividly shared visions;
two young minds together, escaping;
to places far less painful than reality.
Secret sacred memories;
each one I can still recall, relive, enjoy.
A Tender Moment From Childhood Poetry Contest: Placed 2nd
Sponsored by: Malabika Ray Choudhury
Date wrote: 05-June-2021