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Best Croons Poems

A Place Called Beautiful

There is a place called beautiful nestled deep in my mind's eye
Gingham curtains crisply pressed frame periwinkle summer sky
Brass kettle on the old gas stove reflects cast iron pans
And always at the kitchen sink, I see busy, wrinkled hands.

There is a place called beautiful, I'm transported with a whiff
Of coffee brewing, dark and strong, I long to take a sip.
And in the air a trace of Tollhouse cookies baked this morn
And some perfume that only in this special spot is worn.

There is a place called beautiful I hear in perfect dreams
As Frankie croons and Louis wails all whilst the kettle steams
And as she works, she never tires as she hums and sings along
But the harmony of her lilting laugh is by far my favorite song.

There is a place called beautiful, it tastes like sweetest creams
Made in a bucket with a crank til her arms wore out, it seems
And topped with juicy berries that would burst upon each bite
And juices stained my mouth and clothes most every summer night.

There is a place called beautiful, I long to feel again
The naive sense that everywhere was as safe and free of sin
Where love and peace were daily served with a kiss upon the cheek
And grandma's kitchen always felt like you just found what you seek.

 4/9/2019 / Poetry Marathon Final Placement / Sponsor: Mark Toney

beautifulfamilygrandmotherimagerymemoryrhyme

Spirit of Swan Lake


     " In titanium haze of love,
             truth is but a mere lie, 
            never unlocking gold vaults
                    of feelings, for, 
             honesty weeps somewhere
                        in perfumed odes of
                  inkless pages, 
                              hidden in our forlorn fate..."
 
If twilight roses were 
reincarnated angels, 
they would carve 
a zillion destinies 
with feathered letters, 
flickering beneath
butterfly glitters, 
adhering glossy 
wings of rosemary, 
like a balm to 
invisible scars
and encasing 
my soul in a 
hundred hues 
of blood. 

But, I never knew, 
the secrets of 
nebulous-cloaked 
vengeance which 
infused in 
nightingale's 
forevermore fortunes, 
echoing eerie whispers 
in elora moors of 
scarlet jasmines, 
at the jinx of 
midnight's omen;
for thou emerged 
as a lover in 
ninety-nine novels, 
but a guised 
killer in the 
farewell fantasy. 

As I float by, 
in the swan lake, 
losing myself to thee, 
I wish upon 
defrosting your eyes, 
that got submerged 
beneath icebergs 
of betraying harbinger
and bleed my soul 
in frosted heart's
snow-sealed 
milky ways, 
as these flaked 
clayey leaf 
pamphlets of
sakura scents 
aren't enough
to erase thy 
fingerprints from this 
poisoned chalice, 
that sung sinful 
serenades in 
deadly paradise
of Eurydice
and sliced my spirit 
to sooty shreds, 
in this diamond dungeon 
behind sage valleys. 

Laced in 
ash grey lies, 
I'm a corpse 
enveloped in 
crimson croons
of confetti, 
whilst lips 
soak acrylic 
dewdrops of 
melting roses, 
that once
blanketed our 
eden in the 
arms of heaven, 
with starlit petals. 

So, as Nymph, 
in the orisons, 
with hemlock 
fused heart, 
be all my sins 
remembered. 
For, love is a 
smoke raised 
with the fume 
of sighs, demising 
to sacrificed 
meadows, where, 
this kismet tale 
departs in the 
very ecstacy 
of cradling mist, 
and thus, 
with disoriented 
twilight's kiss, I die.

angstbetrayaldeepemotionsheartbrokenfree verse

Waltzing In the Stars - a Collaboration With Susan

(It has been a pleasure and an honour to work upon this collaboration with you Susan. You made the process enjoyable and so easy. Your pen gave this wonderful write its soul. Our ink shared in the stars embrace within the joy of waltzing beauty. Thank you for allowing me to share ink with you Susan. It has been a joy.)

In dream's embrace, I hear sweet music play,
my arms filled with your temple so sublime.
Your beauty shines across God's timeless sea,
within the star's brocade my brightest light.
Come waltz with me betwixt eternal stars,
love croons its serenade within our hearts.
Come dance with me across this stardust floor,
in swirls of love we’re waltzing in the stars.

The distant stars are here within your eyes
in luminary love I am entranced,
you sweep me up within your rhythmic sway
and stir me with your breath upon my cheek.
Warm lips impassioned whispering my name;
your craving lights me up with bliss tonight.
We rise and fall amidst soft moonbeam’s muse
enraptured in our waltz among the stars.

Within moonglow, our spotlight in the night,
to heartbeats of desire we dance in time,
my love, we are aflame in passion’s heat,
in soulful heart to heart our love does sing.
Within your goddess presence I am lost
so deep within the dance that binds our joy,
we whirl in Luna-light your lips on mine
in fervent love we’re waltzing in the stars.

Ethereal and lyrical we are
our magic on this night is heaven sent,
what wondrous thrills we glide on melodies
oh, lustrous love is here within our reach.
We strum each other our sweet music lush
our beings are the instruments of love,
ascending heights your touch is taking me
in supernova waltz among the stars.

12/01/2019.

"Waltzing In The Stars."
A Collaboration by,
Susan Ashley.
&
Michael ,P, Clarje.

beautydancedreamloveromanceblank verse

Elegy for my late Uncle

“Grief is like the ocean. The waves ebb and flow. Sometimes the water is calm. Other times it's turbulent. In order to survive, I had to learn to swim. In moments when I struggled with massive waves of grief, I rode it out.”
Dana Arcuri

When the pearl moon is sinking
and the sea dreams in silence,
when the skies reflect
the sunrise within sighs,
I close my eyes and unlock
my grieving heart.
There, your sincere smile glows
like a string of golden pearls,
and your song, an echoing melody,
while jasmine rain croons
into the mourning mists.
And I whisper to the stars:
show me what it's like in heaven,
where angels and fairies
sway to your vanilla laughter,
for I am still healing from
the shadows of your demise.

I remember,
I was a teenage tempest
dressed in crusts of raven,
but you saw
unicorns and butterflies
soaring above
whirling waves of angst.
and wove my darkness
with acrylic glitter.
You were the antidote
to my bleeding ink.
you were the sakura spring
among my tattered twigs,
you watched me laugh
into the gothic duskiness.

Somehow seeking fireflies
within my summer maze,
did illuminate your weathered time,
like rainbow roses,
engrossed in emerald empathy.
You always knew the
right phrase to rhyme,
subtle syllables to
write every wrong.
You were my comfort
on lonely days.
The uncle, I cherish,
so young and charismatic…

Orchids in your
orchard still sprout~
flaunting their colors
in your mauve memory,
and your seraphic aura lingers
as the magnetic essence
of eternal warmth.
Now I am draped in
mementos and euphonious wind-chimes,
emanating the fragrance
of evergreen grass and soulful sunflowers.
Someday, I will find my way
to your empyrean home,
where you reside in poetry and affection…

deathemotionselegy

Alice Through the Looking Glass

Now that the wicked witch has left the room….

Alice…in Never, Never Land, with clouded brow, and foggy mind, stares through the looking glass at the flames of autumn falling from the maples trees.

And…as she watches this ballet of little fluttering fairies in flaming gowns of crimson, amber and gold, she REMEMBERS…yes…she REMEMBERS… that world where she once lived.

She remembers a time so long ago… when with unclouded brow… she danced with those flaming fairies and laid down with them when they fell to the ground in the backyard of the house where she once lived with her mother, father, brothers and sisters. 

Where are they now, she wonders?

And in that moment….she sees their smiling faces and hears their laughter as the aroma of that magical autumn so long ago, returns obliterating the smell of antiseptic and death.

A smile slowly creeps across her weathered face as she realizes, SHE HAS ESCAPED.

BUT THEN…the door opens………………AND THE SPELL IS BROKEN, for the wicked witch has returned.  

TIME FOR YOUR MEDICATION, ALICE…she sweetly croons, as she pulls down the blind.


Author:  Elaine George
Written:  September 4th, 2014

deathlifeoldnarrative

Mantra of a Mantis

Have you ever seen 
a Praying Mantis green?
Or heard the tunes 
he enticingly croons,
searching each day 
for innocent prey?

Mantra of a Mantis:
"Eat or be eaten!"

In prayerful stance
he awaits the chance
to grab a bunch
of beetles for lunch.
Wearing camouflage,
enemies he'll dodge.

Mantra of a Mantis:
"Eat or be eaten!"

When it's time for mating
a female Mantis is hating
the little male on her back.
When it's over she'll attack.
Once he's spent, he's doomed
chewed up and consumed.

Mantra of a Mantis:
"Eat or be eaten!"

And if you look, you will find
that mankind's frame of mind
is the thought, 'Do unto others
even if they are your brothers."
Men conquer as if a game they play.
A Mantis slays only for food each day.

Too much blood has been spilled.
In this world it's been instilled...

Mantra of a Man:
"Kill or be killed"

_   _   _   _   _   _
15th August 2016

insectintrospectionrhyme

Moonbeam Visit

moon cradle swings slow
cloud curtains billow softly
starry night lights blink
amidst black velvet blanket...
as wind croons a lullaby


dreamy dust settles
sparkling against silken strands
as moonbeam peeks through

Sandman plants a sweet dream's kiss--
slumbering beauty breathes deep





120320111230p106

**for Tracie's Moonlight Dreams contest :D

lifeLullabytanka

Makeover

Old Poem: Toes Of Rain ...4/6/2014

August spills rains
with tapped grains, like
pearl veins on roofs

Drenched in soft hue,
toes play new songs
of blue night’s croons

~than-bauk form~ 

................

Makeover: Flavor Of Rain  4/5/2015


Just now, the saline flavor of rain
crawls on my cheeks , drips on  hands
then sprawls out unto a wet lane
tingling like a  new song
in the blue of night-time,  ready to waft
through the flesh of moist petals---
rows  of half-sunk blooms levitate as
if their mouths hunger for salty broth
from weeks of flushed heat.

There I am, drenched in the sudden
pour of  sheet willing to partake of
such welcome…yes! wake me, melt me,
inhabit me with pearl veins...
bit by bit, the same chimes flutter on my limbs
trailing  in a gait of conga strut ---tunes jumping
from a droplets’ swish---couples blending
as one porcelain-like figurine, with vapor glistening 
on slippery skin…
and for all the rush and moist touch
of this fluid croon, gods laugh
as if nothing mattered.

~free verse~


Roy Jerden's Makeover 
~ I wanted to write a more 'edgy' poem
using the senses as my creative handle~
4/5/2015

rainfree verse

Giggles For Age Hiders

Deceptive Griselda is not so fair
She conceals her real age, will not declare
     On the Net she croons love’s tunes
     To make all the young men swoon
A fantasyland like hers is so rare
 
The secrets that she always locks within
Mysterious as the Shroud of Turin
     ‘Twould be easier to gauge
     The much-debated shroud’s age
Than guess the date of photos she's seen in

Wherever she goes, she carries laptops
Sexy blog posts from nursing home rooftops
     Delusional minds deceive
     Some catch on, some still believe
But at 87; her figure’s flopped


Entry for Tracie's contest

funnylimerick

Best Croons Poems

The Maltese Moon

In Realm of Love

Beautiful Sadness

A Place Called Beautiful

Falling In Love - Lay

A Kiss

My Red Red Roses POTD

Spirit of Swan Lake

Waltzing In the Stars - a Collaboration With Susan

Elegy for my late Uncle

Alice Through the Looking Glass

Mantra of a Mantis

Moonbeam Visit

Makeover

Giggles For Age Hiders

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