Best Daintily Poems


Premium Member We Are Not Merely Poets

Some of us are secretive at first. We hide our poetry’s soul self, 
gently letting her peep out; sometimes regretting it immediately.
Fearful of critiques from people who do not understand that poetry 
is something we are compelled and born to do with our feelings.
Your diary entries may form themselves into goodness or badness
before you realize your calling as a poet.

Truths shockingly ooze out, surprising you.
Feelings creep out onto a page, in loud angry letters,
or romantic feelings daintily brush onto a crisp lined page
in the form of sweetness and light.

You are a word player, because you cannot
stop this obsession, but it does not define you.
This poetry gig is but a glimmer of a glimpse of yourself.
You might be a caregiver, or a wonderful friend.
People who count on your smile every day may not realize
you have a love affair with words, and an obsession to write them.

We are each a unique jewel, mined from God’s mind.
Poetry may initiate a whisper of a tiny facet of ourselves,
but our secrets are safe. We not merely poets. We are lovers
of life, and words. Most importantly, we remain gloriously hidden 
and unknown to most.

Written 12-20-18        Contest:  You Are Not Defined by Poetry
             Sponsor:  John Hamilton

Premium Member Winter

With his icy fingers he stole my smokey breath,
laid a sheet of slippery freezing cold by my feet
and then whispered in my ear right to the drum
that echoed in my brain with excruciating pain.

She, his wife was of a complete different temperament
quietly without fuss she crafted blanched cotton flakes,
each a masterpiece, unique as if she retained every design 
she had ever imagined so each time she could create anew.

He however with his bravado with his swelled chest
would pepper speeding glass-like pellets into the air.
Sting our faces without regret. Salt our wounds.
Mercilessly bite into our flesh with his frosted fangs.

Daintily she'd sprinkle the sky with the magic of her cheer
feather the atmosphere in a delicate splatter of alabaster.
Layer by layer she laid soft sheets of snow to the delight
of everyone alike creating a playground of endless mirth.

His breath reeked of dreams frozen, nipped in the bud.
Already he had high jacked his sisters, the Autumn twins
sent them packing, hurried, gathering their rustic garments.
He had no love of his siblings except his baby sister, Spring.

His wife loving and caring would temper his yearly onslaught.
She knew of his pain, deep, abandoned by his father Summer.
At times she'd blow slightly warmer air to provide respite for
us mere humans and allow the sun to warm our weary bones.

They  would sit together and it was her would bring out
the albums of family photos view pictures of his mother.
Her smile like music would soothe his stone cold heart.
He loved, when she'd visit in the guise of an Indian Summer.

With his icy fingers he stole my smokey breath.
I felt her presence there to temper his harsh avail.

Winter had arrived but when they walked as one 
this magnificent couple dressed in their royal winter whites,
without a second thought you  would bow in front of their regal 
stance, a sight to behold, one that encompassed the entire land.


04~01~2015
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name: Seasons

Premium Member We Are Nasty Women

We are Nasty Women

When we hear haughtiness, we name it
When we see bullying, we blame it

We are Nasty Women

We do not daintily defer
For selfish whims of a saboteur

We will not walk three steps behind
We will not sheathe our sharpened minds

We are logic's clear eloquence
We are unyielding consequence

We are Nasty Women
We are out of many, one

We are the soldiers of every war
We are astronauts and commodores

We are the activists of plundered Earth
We are the executives who expect our worth

We are the advocates of facts, unsuppressed
As we walk the corridors of Congress

And we are far from done.

6/06/19

Poem of the Day
June 8th, 2019
Form: Rhyme


A Debutante's Ball To Remember

A Debutante’s Ball to Remember

In the autumn of my life, oft have I recalled that superb summer night,
when I finally experienced my long-awaited heart’s delight.
Family and close friends were all ready for my entry into society,
to celebrate it with a grand debutante’s ball filled with gaiety.

In a dreamlike state, I felt like a princess with a golden crown,
making my grand entrance wearing a champagne chiffon gown. 
With matching gloves, and a pair of satin shoes on my tiny feet, 
my auburn hair was adorned with butterflies and posies sweet.

The ballroom was magically transformed with gas lights all aglow,
and a glittering chandelier reflected on a highly polished mahogany floor. 
As the orchestra played, my body and soul were enraptured and consumed
by its rendition of Ravel’s enthralling “La Valse” which pervaded the room.

Elegant ladies were all dressed to the nines in exquisite pastel gowns
of winter white, baby blue, powder pink, pale peach and beautiful browns.
In tacit competition to out-best each other, social charms were well-honed,
as they daintily fanned themselves and gossiped animatedly in hushed tones.

Refined gentlemen in their finely-tailored tails navigated the room to mingle,
keeping an eye out for eligible heiresses beautiful, graceful, and single.
Wafts of mild masculine colognes came from discretely dabbed faces and hair;
while the fresh feminine floral scent of French perfumes permeated the air. 

Armed with a full dance card, I waltzed the night away with ardent admirers,
curtsying and coquettishly smiling, moving on to more exciting suitors.
My enchanting evening climaxed with Strauss’s “Vienna Waltz” filling the hall.
Oh, what a tale I will have to tell as my granddaughter prepares for her first ball!


11-21-2014

Contest:      Your Favourite Old Poem (06-08-2015) 
Sponsor:      Shadow Hamilton
Placement:   1st

Contest:      Ballroom Delights (12-16-2014)
Sponsor:     Isaiah Zerbst
Placement:  2nd
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Green In Spring

A coastline laps with glistening waves
Dotted with light from its shore-bed unseen,
While fragrance of air and gull’s trill filter
Through leafy boughs varnished in shamrock green.
How this breathtaking view warms my senses
Where tinted sands like nuggets of a jade,
Beguile dreamy feet to tap, to tiptoe
On lime stones, pebbles, daintily arrayed.

From fibrils of tides the woven moss rides
That gently, evening drapes the isle with ease
Softer the ripples in patterns that hold 
A verdant calm between water and trees
Endowing new March a treasure’s delight
That rails this juncture, bright as emerald…
And I, a lucky charm of this fresh luster
Delight in the gush bearing spring’s reward.


(Get into the spirit and Go Green) 
Old/ New Poems Contest, PD Linda
Resubmitted: 3/18/2016
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Springtime

Springtime paints such a delightful scene
Cute lambs gambol in the fields so green

Warm winds whisper through the leafy trees
Blossoms float down on a swirling breeze

Daffodils daintily dance and shake their heads
Bringing bright yellow sunshine to our flowerbeds

3rd February 2015
Form: Couplet


Premium Member The Belle of the Ball

My Christmas tree in sparkling dress
stands in my window to impress.
She smiles at all the passersby.
She waves hello.  She is not shy.

She winks at all the trees she sees
in nearby houses on the street.
She seems to shiver with delight
counting the minutes till midnight.

For one late hour wakened from sleep
through the dark house on slippered feet
I crept, while up, to catch a glance
of tinseled Christmas ambiance.

Outside the window daintily 
danced my glittering Christmas tree!
With others down the street and back!
They twirled around the cul-de-sac!

Amazed I gazed quiet and still,
propped against the window sill, till
tired but thrilled I left to resume
much needed rest in my bedroom.

I heard giggling in early light
when she slipped in and stood just right.
But, she leaves needles everywhere
and ornaments dropped here and there.

She’ll have her fun till New Year’s Day, 
then take a nap all tucked away.
Next year she’ll dress and dance again 
with all her many merry friends.


12/11/2018
© P.S. Awtry  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member I Have an Aversion to Prejudice

I have an aversion to prejudice
Judging a pond without sampling its ice
Consorting with others eating large melons
Passersby judged as free men or felons

Women condemned as whores or harlots
While tormenting men turn the air scarlet
Then sit in the pews reserved for the saintly
Ogle the preacher’s wife ever so daintily

For judgement you see is a way to look down
On those, as they pass, on which you may frown
Knowing that god has made you superior
When in truth you couldn’t kiss their posterior

For consciousness doesn’t offer correction
Unless you can make a change of direction
That is, of course, dependent upon
How much of the ice you take from the pond
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Our Little Haven

When I was just a little girl
With mind as always, in a whirl
Me and my cousin, we would roam
Far, far away from my sweet home

We'd make our way to some rocks we knew
All covered by green moss, we two
Oh it was such a magic place
And left huge smiles upon my face

To us it was a fairyland
With imagination vast and grand
We both saw fairies, little elves too
Dancing daintily as they do

When that time came, we had to leave
Both our little hearts would grieve
We'd leave that haven, her and me
Our minds brim filled with memories

So we went back to normalcy
And though it made us both unhappy
We knew that soon we'd go back there
And see those we folk everywhere
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Rainbows Dreaming of Gray

Scrambling tooth and nail for a patterned fate
I approached the lofty mansion of Learning's Gate.
All cued up for a slip of paper - the one they call Degree,
halfway convinced that I hallucinated humanity.
For who under their own free will would venture
into this spiraling sameness:
this illustriously-in-debt, this Regal Club
of the Nameless?
I bellowed my voice into the air
(This great atrocity!).
But not a single student seemed to care:
So well fashioned they were,
adorned in their prized medals of mediocrity.
Along with their unwillingness to ever stray,
all too content to be but rainbows dreaming of gray.
I hung my head in such morose emptiness.
As I fashioned myself: the uniquely ubiquitous.
And what a fool I was to join the crowd - and yet so halfheartedly.
Striving for the cirrus clouds, the silver moon, and then the galaxy.
For my actions didn't match my cerebral creativity
I was statue still cursed with a meandering mind
(and other such extremities).
Exploding with hopes large enough for two
I sat clearly convinced languid leaps would do.
But one cannot daintily decide to dream the Dream
for it is merely the seed, another earthly deed.
You're not allowed to walk away, gandering as it grows,
for we are likened as the summer sun - keeping the rivers a'flow.

"Picturing profits in your hands
do not till the all too ready land"
explained the elderly gent with leathered palms, 
"Someday soon you will understand."

And though we aim to be ourselves
gravity inevitably
brings us to the grid.
Imagination like a heavy rain;
we the paper people
so helplessly hid.

But fear not ye denizens
of the cherished cubbyhole:
where you keep under lock and key
your dust-laden soul.
If one burgeoning blunder
tore it all asunder
surely one single spirited spark
could heal even the most
dormant of hearts.

So fare thee well oh Cookie Cutter Coop -
Another day on that wretched plain, and I'd surely die.
I'm glad just to sever sameness in one fell swoop
by hanging on a star in the midnight sky.



NOTE: I always enjoyed using alliteration when I could... and with this particular one I went a little bit nutty... but I think it turned out okay.

Wallflower

On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity;
neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity,
as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man
asks her to dance, she must decline.

Stuck in a bubble, just missing the boat,
floating past maybes, a lump in her throat,
she dawdles and dangles, an inch from forever,
a chance to break open, but opting for never.

One day she will make it, step into the limelight,
and pirouette daintily, taking his hand,
there'll be no more jitters or lame-brain excuses
just confident motions in time with the band.

What a relief to be one of a legion
of movers and shakers who're down from the shelf,
she's gliding with grace while avoiding another's toes,
hugging her partner instead of herself.

                    *******

...autobiographical, you wouldn't believe how much!
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Eagles

Eagle flying high, just a dot in the sky
I fly in to join you and circle with you
together we take delight in plummeting down
then climbing back up to float on thermals

The landscape below shows trees the size of matches
individual flowers too small to see just splashes
of many different hues blending into each other
the steady wind ruffles my feathers as I tease you

Playing and courting we bond once more
and set about setting our eyrie to rights
high up on the steep jagged cliff top
any danger spotted miles away from this vantage point

I take turns with you sitting on our eggs
then off to hunt I soar searching for my prey
there down there a fat young rabbit grazes
I swoop down and now dinner daintily I eat

Replete I retire to the tree tops
and spread my wings basking in the sun
      life is good so very good    
soon the cycle restarts with my chicks

written 01/23/2013

Caterpillars Become Butterflies

They said that she was ugly, fat, and shy.
She went her way to shameful words and sneers.
Ignored or worse by those who passed her by,
She'd weep the dew each night with all her tears.

The caterpillar, few have understood.
In every garden scorned and undesired
Until such time she reaches womanhood.
Then by all men she's suddenly admired.

The dress she wears so colorful and slim.
Her freckled skin now silky, fair, and smooth.
Her every movement, elegant and prim,
But still she bears the cruelness of her youth.

And when she flits so daintily our way
Perhaps that's why she never deems to stay.

9.2.18
Contest 1:  Personification poem of a pet, wild animal or insect (N/A)
Contest 2: Brian Stand contest #490 (N/A)
© Jesse Rowe  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Toddler Tea

I thought I’d invite toddlers for tea, 
so my own would stay out of my hair.
They would sit and sip so daintily, 
Follow rules, and play games so fair.
Smile ever sweet, use the word please
 Say thank you, ma’am, and stay on their chairs.
Be careful with my fine china, says me.
They laugh, they snort, and they wiggle like hares.
They dive off the couch, with giggles of glee.
They land heaped together, gulping in air.
Chairs in a pile at the bottom of the stairs,
Everything in sight has been licked by Lee, 
Chairs in a heap at the bottom of stairs,
Strange things are happening, how can this be?
I think I have been invaded by bears!

The Butterfly

>                 Exotically pirouetting in the scented summer breeze
                    Daintily coquettish resting in leafy green trees
                    On translucent wings floats flower to flower 
                    Delicately shivering in a cool midday shower ,
                    In the glow of the evening fades quietly away 
                     Hopefully to return some other sunny day <
Form: Couplet

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