Best Crooning Poems
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree—
A belle crooning nature’s glee,
Splendorous as seasons’ glory.
A ballad of resplendent spring
In stanzas cherry-blossom pink
Uplifting moods of lovers
Lost in heart-shaped leaves
Fluttering soft lavender breeze
Arousing romantic appeal
In fuchsia hues of redbud trees.
A verse of feisty summer winds
Swaying beats of majestic oak
Rustling big-leaf maple trees
Hosting dance of perky sparrows
Choreographing mating tempo--
Magnolia’s white blooms evoke.
A lyric of autumn’s aspirations
Scripting chorus in blazing colors,
Red, orange, purple, yellow,
On maple, hickory, birch, sycamore,
Strumming strings of alluring refrains--
Rhythms waltzing fervid meadows.
A cadent song of winter’s chill
Shuddering vibes of barren trees
Yet, charmingly pretty as can be
When snowflakes gently falling
Invoke tunes of season’s greetings
Crowning tips of ornamental twigs
As hearts’ melodies merrily sing.
February 7, 2020
Placed 1st: Famous poetic lines 2 poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
“I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree” by Joyce Kilmer
HM: Strand select H contest by Brian Strand
Curious children try to catch a glimpse as
Santa's sleigh sails silently and swiftly
Coming closer and closer as Christmas closes in
Exciting everyone eagerly expecting enjoyment
Making mellow music in merriment
Mistletoe magic makes many kiss
Presents placed proudly under the tree as
Flames from the fireplace dance through the night
Shoppers see savings on super sales as
Crooning carolers capture the Christmas spirit
One word
Resonating
Breath stirred
Sighing
Softly Spoken
Charming
Gently
A faint murmur
Wispy
©November 28th, 2014 by Regina Riddle
WHISPERS OF A MUSE - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: nette onclaud
Effigy formed of inert dust,
Inhaled the divine pulse, vile vine
Infused with worth and dignity.
I'm not! I'm not! Fallen from grace;
I frown at my rueful bungle.
Sad to strut, my honor swishes
Shame; dark crusted conscience
Hangs on me; keeps paling my worth
Till I yell at Christ's open arms
For return of the gone glory,
So dear, the present, a shadow.
Years in the fire, self-refining,
Yielded scum, dross, a dull shine.
If I should have another chance,
Revert to the noble state I'd lost,
My heart could be tanned rainbow.
A dove cranes on a perch, offset
Against the blue, croons in the wind,
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?
Yet I battle with baneful pride,
Scorn the grace, the courting nocturne.
No end to my nice now, I wow.
Quite unequalled, I'll ever be.
The bell tolls for others, each time
Softer; the whir of a whirling world.
The sun keeps her scoot; stars, their stroll.
Summer smiles; winter whines, sulks.
Time etches against my proud form.
The bell! Sounds like tolling closer—
Jangling, ruffling... nettling.
Yet my pride... my pride sticks,
Lances the chance to begin again.
© 2015 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
My heart feels crestfallen
Whenever I think about that day
She looked like a bee collecting pollen
In the garden of Deity as she pray
The raven attire on the pale skin
The ample lips and the double chin
Crooning behind the queen bee
Her voice was faint yet bold as the sea
I kept admiring the charm of the damsel
But she paid no heed
she kept worshiping from the chancel
And my heart wanted me to plead
My trembling approach to her was late
As the crowd started to leave
I lost to the cruelty of my fate
But my heart wasn't ready to believe
Whenever I have that recollection
Looking at the hanky kept as souvenir
My heart blooms with infatuation
As I could feel her euphonious voice clear
Birds
Singing
Soothing souls,
Serenading
Trembling moments erase the darkest gloom,
Stardust shadows echo through the silence,
Glistening truth,
Playing soft,
Warbling
Songs