Best Cycles Poems
The rosebud blooms—makes its grand debut
in joyous spring. Day by day, its
petals open wide—all stages lead to
fullness in the end. When autumn air
delivers chill, its petals drop as life
and death their endless duet sing. It
then awaits new life next spring when
The rosebud blooms—makes its grand debut
© Sandra M. Haight 2014
All Rights Reserved
~8th Place~
Contest 8 Lines 7 Words Enjambment
Sponsor: Rick Pairse
There is a sadness
In the sunset
As the dying sun
Fades away,
Twilight mourns
In solemn silhouettes,
And birds retire
To their nests.
Then at moonrise
We see a remnant
Of sun’s beauty in
Its reflected glow
As darkness covers
Half the Earth—
We slumber, awaiting
Sun’s glorious rebirth.
© Connie Marcum Wong
July 11, 2015
Open Poetry Contest
Sponsor Charlote Puddifoot
I've startled a frog, who leaps in flashes.
He and a grasshopper zig-zag away.
The lawn whispers mildly, in tune with the sun,
Yet something's amiss--the air is unsettled.
Squirrels and I stash away seeds,
salvaged from spent, rain-ravaged beds.
Bees are now torpid and cling to the mums.
Bedraggled zinnias give up the ghost.
What becomes of the Grim Reaper's harvest,
of creatures who cannot withstand the strain?
The mystery hides in an infinite point--
the one in the center of The Great Hub--
the crux of a myriad transformations.
Cycles
Our
flowers
bloom, begin
their earthly time
in life; with sun and
rain, daily they contend.
And day by day, their petals
open wide; earth stages create
fullness in the end. They then enjoy
new life awakened with rebirth of Spring.
Our living earth does promise us new life,
after sleep of winter gathers strength.
Flowers are governed by their roots,
to wake as spring sets them free.
All life holds death but sends
life renewed once more,
while life and death,
earth's tireless
twosome,
sings.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: Two Stanzas - Only Two
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 07/25/2016
Double Etheree - Syllables:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Times such as these test body soul and mind
So should our thoughts be pain and dark confined
Or loosed to concentrate on brighter things
Like furry puppies, flowers and girls on swings
In this bright morning sun as I roved out
Past village houses waking to their day
With little gardens, blossoms all about
As all across this England’s pleasant brae
In scepticism native to my heart
With self restraint on humour that’s sardonic
Ever seeking inspiration to my art
I crossed heath margin gloomy and achromic
Then onward later passing black swamp marsh
Of putrid mud and roots round dead stumps curled
As sunlight penetrated tree top arch
I found myself in new and magic world
Tread higher then, along the wooded track
The earth grew ever brighter to my eye
The canopy now thin, then folded back
Til nothing seemed above me, only sky
A single buzzard circled in the blue
Then as my eye adjusted, were revealed
Another, then Red Kites made patterns
new
With searching eyes they scanned the sunlit field
In echelon of helix high then higher
More birds soared in great three dimensioned bowl
In choreographed flight dance; did they require
Direction by divine traffic control?
All Carnivores! life based upon life cycle
Thus nature’s way is seen in rhythm born
Seasons and the land each follow pattern tidal
(These barrows once stood bare in sand dune form)
In crisis deep we face a time of trial
Could nature’s message give a way to vow
Whether raged against or treating with denial
All cycles shall complete; as then - so now
25 March 2020
Mid-day darkness crept across the browning meadow
Autumn sought a place to practice her ritual perfidy,
Menacing as an evil spirit she hovered like a shadow
Transformed the green, plucked blooms ruthlessly.
Strewing the lush foliage laid barren along the path
As though a windstorm had tossed it with no regard
Spoiling the last of summer’s blooms in the aftermath,
Leaving the landscape ‘til spring battered and scarred.
I scanned the field from the fencerow by the avenue
Which separates the sanctuary from my backyard,
Already dreaming of a time when all will begin anew
But first I know the place will see winter cold and hard.
Nature’s way, of course, I’ve witnessed many seasons
Times to blossom in profusion; other times to perish,
Cycles of seasonal changes, who can know the reasons.
Written September 3, 2022
The time of growth and change is done and past.
From thaw to frost activity prevailed,
And change came often, often coming fast,
Till finalizing Fall all toil curtailed.
With wintertime’s quiescence, come at last,
The old year’s final breath has been exhaled.
And now all nature’s quiet, all now still,
All bedding down, preparing for the chill.
The other seasons garner all the praise:
From sprouting Spring, through Summer’s fruiting fields,
To Autumn’s vibrant hues and bracing days,
Each one its own unique enchantment wields.
But Winter’s coming oftentimes dismays,
So cryptic are the blessings that it yields--
Yet unexpected beauty will abound
In many forms both subtle and profound.
Then gales gust frore as frigid flakes bespeak
The wintry depths which grip both heath and grange:
The rime-bound land is frozen hard, and bleak—
Yet bleakness has its beauty, harsh and strange.
And what seems dead or dormant soon will wreak
What surely counts as nature’s deepest change:
The imminence of warmth’s returning breath…
The immanence of life in seeming death.
For springtime’s semelparity is fate,
As sure as tide or twilight, and as strict.
It burgeons and it blooms, but soon or late
It goes to seed and dies. The clock has ticked
And knelled the midnight hour — but don’t berate
The seed for its mortality -- predict
Instead the miracle which will ensue:
That out of silence, life is born anew.
A cool caliginous
night
Crickets in their abode
talking
A desolate street with no
lights
A doddering man
balking
Soon dusk kisses
dawn
Birds are out
chirping
The sun is shining and the curtain
of night has drawn
The exuberance of girls
playing
First intent of a Quatern poem
Closing and ending life cycles
Persons arrive and leave our lives
Some are destined to be besides
The rest of our existences
Nothing lasts indefinetely
Closing and ending life cycles
Appreciate things immensely
Fully enjoy hours and minutes
Live with a total awareness
Conscious of your own surroundings
Closing and ending life cycles
Keeping in mind unknown endings
Life is constant change every day
Inexorable leave effects
Adding sum of results someday
Closing and ending life cycles
Nayda Ivette
11-15-2015
Through Jaded Eyes you see the world,
and everything in view.
But see you weren’t like this
when I very first found you.
It sucked you in, this monster,
and it caused the world to pause.
It took our lives away
when it had trapped us in it’s jaws.
I wish we could go back
so we could both do things differently.
But the monster had us both,
and both had found ourselves diseased.
I fought hard to escape it,
but you had got the taste for blood.
Obsessed with getting high
no matter what it costed us.
I try hard not to fault you,
for I too, have played this game.
But my love for you was stronger
than some temporary gain.
Maybe I don’t understand
why you have never wavered.
You’ve hurt my Heart so deeply,
Now I’m sad, alone, and angered.
Perhaps if I should stoop,
and find myself once more a user,
Then I could not be mad
perhaps my hurts would then be fewer.
Once more we both are trapped again,
indulging in these sins.
We fight a losing battle
where this monster always wins.
The thing we failed to see though,
was that both of us evolved.
We replicate the monster
who had caused the harsh downfall.
Looking at each other,
do you still recognize my face?
For I am not so sure
our faces haven’t been replaced.
We spit such venom freely
As if sworn of enemies.
Our love cannot return
Unless we finally break free.
Our love has faded drastically,
And it seems there is no hope.
We’re marching towards the gallows.
Conveniently, bring our own rope.
We string each other up,
Ready to kick each other’s chairs.
We’ve come to kill each other
with chemicals to push us there.
A monster I’ve become,
not sure I even know my name.
I fear that there’s no turning back,
Or that I’ll ever be the same.
Your eyes become more empty
every time we play this game.
Tell me, are my eyes too?
I feel so hollow and ashamed.
Now clouds replace their light,
And it’s so hard to recognize…
ourselves and all that is,
while peering through such Jaded eyes.
A blessing indeed is my washing machine
wash, rinse, drain, spin
Voila! My clothes are clean
O for the news cycle to be so pristine
instead, once it hits spin
It’s a soiled partisan scheme
New buds breaking bring
The bees to flowers nipple
Spring feels love's sweet sting
Cool winds sweep dead leaves
Frolicking to shallow graves
Grass caress my feet
New tornados come
Galloping through the gray clouds
Apathy is dead.
The sun awakens
To drink the dews of dark night
Lizards seek fresh shade
Flies can hear my hand
Before the thunder breaks grief
Freedom comes with wings
Caught up in cycles of love-hate
she dons a smile to hide her hurt.
Yet, her conflicting emotions,
lead to inevitable pain.
In her fantasies, she's happy;
although that feeling is fleeting.
For in her world of make-believe,
she conjures hope from denial.
Jealousy lurks in the shadows;
taunting her devastated heart.
For whenever she's feeling blue,
dreams dwell on melancholy thoughts.
Youth's impenetrable shield failed
to guard her vulnerable heart.
And as lies obstructed the truth,
illusions fueled delusions.
Smitten by unrequited love,
fantasy shuns reality.
And teeters on the very edge,
of despair and insanity.
Life
moves on
circles turn
seasons cycle
one to another
endlessly carrying on
as life is recreated
and it flows on seamlessly
new blossoms to tempt birds
flowers bowing their heads
green grasses flourish
apples swelling
crops ripen
winter
snows
What do you call a laughing motorcycle?
The answer is gonna send you into fits of laugh-o-cycles
Are you ready to guffaw?
It's a Yamahahahahaha
Calm down now, remember your signs vital