Best Dallying Poems
Ingredients To Achieve A Dream - Panagiota Romios
Dream Recipe: Ingredients
Have a huge dream that seems unachievable!
Be fearless and put up pictures of that dream all over your house.
Invite your God to mentor you and then close your ears.
As the world is replete with nay-sayers out to choke you with fear.
You think I am supercilious or dallying in a game?
No, this is so real, if you don't do this, you will find others or
circumstances to blame.
Most importantly, do go on a total news diet.
Total abstinence, please, oh please, just try it?
Read and listen to only things that uplift you heart.
Be very careful as what enters your mind, as all that
becomes you.
And if suffering from any illness, do the best you can to not let
it define you!
Don't let anyone ever steal your dream.
Then your life can be the Creme de la Creme!
February 19' 2020
3:30pm PST
Nursery Rhyme
Children's Short story (Rhyme)
Little Ellie, loves her freckles
she counts them every night,
her friends call her 'Ellie speckles'
which fills her with delight!
she traces them with her finger
before she rests her head
in the mirror, she lingers
dallying if the truth be said,
little Ellie, loves her freckles
she bathes them every night,
her friends call her 'Ellie speckles'
which fills her with delight!
this night was like no other,
she froze in utter despair
screaming down to her mother
who came running up the stairs,
little Ellie, loves her freckles
she reads to them, every night
her friends call her 'Ellie speckles'
which fills her with delight!
vanished had Ellie's freckles
She had washed them off again ~
still wanting to be 'Ellie Speckles'
she drew them back with a pen
Is our love a dance macabre?
A dilly dallying with death?
Or a mystic encounter of unabated love?
Will it last? Will it end?
So many questions left unanswered,
So many uncertainties attested,
All cumulative in a death wish
As emotions run devilishly amok.
My soul screams with this unpredictability,
Its echoes rampage through my veins,
As bubbling blood courses through
Twisted arteries, through havoc and chaos.
Is it the folly of chained love?
The unearthly silence of togetherness?
My lips pronounce your name but no one answers.
I realize my questions will never be answered.
Our togetherness is but a charade,
Shadows dancing in a moonless night.
Your allure is just too much to bear,
I dare keep it no more
So let our ways head into different tracks.
Henceforth I'll dance alone.
A dance macabre.
Have a huge dream that seems so unachievable!
Be fearless and put up pictures of that dream all over your house.
Invite your God to mentor you and then close your ears.
As the world is replete with nay-sayers out to choke you with fear.
You think I am supercilious or dallying in a game?
No, this is so real, if you don't do this, you will find others or circumstances
to blame.
Most importantly, do go on a total news diet!
Total abstinence, please, oh please, just try it.
Read and listen to only things that uplift you heart.
Be very careful as what enters your mind, as all that becomes you.
And if suffering from any illness, do the best you can do,
Under no circumstances let it ever define you.
Don't let anyone ever steal your dreams!
Then your life can be the Creme de la Creme!
"All things come to those who believe."
August 10, 2019
9am PST
Oh how very earnestly pleasing
I do so find
The wide, sun splashed avenues
Of grand residential Worthing;
Where the old poets
Announce each and every corner;
So neatly squared and turned
By thoroughly conceived Victorian
Order.
Quiet sonnets reside here
Seeking haven from weary
travels,
Sustained by appetizing foreign
aromas,
Loitering amidst the long drawing
shadows;
Clinging to the flinted garden walls,
Dallying with the scented Jasmine
From where hidden finches call.
Finding yourself gently led down
And into narrow, high walled
streets;
That delightfully converge upon
Bustling open spaces
Where the multi-nations meet;
And greet with quarrelsome gulls,
Strutting and yarking,
Barking like little dogs
Around our feet.
Here we can absently sit,
And make like carefree Parisians
Separated by an English sea,
Whilst contentedly sipping scalding
coffees
Of exciting continental styles;
And forgetting our mundane
troubles...
Smile and laugh, for perhaps,
Just the shortest of whiles.
Ok let's go up to the fire tower, talk with Ranger Ricky, Heh, heh,. What's so funny Harry. When I was a kid we use to watch the Ranger Ricky Show. He would run Popeye the Sailor cartoons and every week He would say "An a very Hap-py Birthday to the viewers."An a very Hap-py Birthday to Harry, he is 8 years old today.He helps his Mom around the house by doing the dishes and sweeping the floors. Morning Rick, morning Harry, I've been expecting you. I have some bad news, the avalanch started at the top of Demons Bluff. Your chances of finding those kids are slim and even slimmer finding them alive. There is some good news, 7 members of Killington Rescue have joined the search.That's great, the four of us have 2 advantages, we only have to climb 50 feet to the top of the mountain. Demons Bluff is on the otherside, down hill with very little snow
for 3 quarters of a mile. What's the secound reason asked Billy. Harry cooks as well
as he knows this mountain, he is an Ace Rick, stop! Alright, I have 5 thermo-laser poles, should we bring the 5th one. Yep, I'll carry it.
To be Cont.
Author's note: This all took place in less than a 5 minute span if you think we were Dilly-dallying
In the blink of an eye and remorse far away
Your wavering heart blistered away my loving years
Your verbal pleasantries seem to mock
Your artful facade with a serpentine sting
In the beatific moments your need was me
We spent lucid loving hours spent at comfortable ease
New beginnings became easy with me to shield
You climbed my inherited ladders in splendid guise
I spruced the hearth and kept it warm with crystalline cheer
Your eyes, I fear, I couldn't fathom as I tucked our babes to bed
Now you fumble with your deceitful heart to temper me
When unchartered hours were gambled away with a seductive lass
Trust exploded in my rose quartz heart
When I saw you two cooing by mere accident
Your pitched frequency of dilly dallying
No more resonates with my simplicity
Our winsome fairy tale has ended
And your wilful satiric tale has begun
The charisma of ethereal love is poised on
Drooling actions and not on banal promises
March 31, 2016
Cliche 4- Actions Speak Louder Than Words
Sponsor: Silent One
"Fragments and crumbs of life, all the little pieces"
John Ruskin, 1853
In my younger days thought much about fame
And went on laying the edifice of prosperity
That envisioned in the clear light of eternity
And might properly house the glory of my name.
But thoughts swifter than wind pushed my plan
Though the fair foundation has yet begun
And started with friends dallying in the sun
Scrambling awkwardly and the liquors ran.
Was too late to see my vision shape and rise
In the place of lofty peaks and towers.
Mind’s pieces drifted the conscious premise
Drowned by flotsam-jetsam in sluggish currents.
Later friends gulled and well-wishers deceived
And now have no regrets, nothing unachieved
Fragments left me to collect the pieces together
Spending all my time of bliss at ease forever.
**********
*This is not biographical write but based on the life of my childhood friend.
==================================
Dr. Ram Mehta
June 24, 2011
Sixth Place win:
Contest: All the Little Pieces sponsored by Constance, The Rambling Poet
I am a tiny winged buzzing insect
A friend to folks and flowers alike
Another name for hard work
Toiling untiring from dawn to dusk
I set out merry, humming a tune,
On my professed mission of gathering honey
The flowers freshly bathed in dew
Eagerly await my propitious visit
I like to flit from flower to flower
I love dallying with floral beauties
Gladiolus, Chrysanthemums and Petunias
Red geraniums and colorful Zinniahs
But I prefer to hover over clustered blooms
Which hang from trees’ stooping boughs
From each flower I sup to my fill
And my body gets covered in yellow dust
I don’t believe in the Epicurean dictum
Of ‘Eat, drink and be merry’
Neither do I live just for today
I await a future that is trouble free
We work tireless till the day is done
And see that every cell of our hive is full
We never complain of those among us
Who stay idle and thrive on our labor
Never grumble against the privileged Queen
Who enjoys unique status with rights many
For we respect the Nature-ordained hierarchy
As we know, a mob without a leader would be anarchy
Bee Creative Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Matt Caliri
Placed First
23. Jan. 2022
For Strand’s (1058) Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Brian Strand
Act 1: Scene 1: (As the curtain opens, we see the bulky frame of Farmer George. He paces
the worn floor of his large open kitchen. He has just come in from harvesting his crops.
Seated at the table is his wife, Florence (Flo), a more educated person, demure, and usually
calm. Today she sits, as if in peril, large green eyes darting nervously back and forth as they
follow his every move. Across from her on the table is an uncut melon; next to it, a large
knife. Both husband and wife appear agitated, and an argument is about to ensue as George
leans suddenly forward, glaring at his wife’s startled face, placing both his large rough hands
heavily down on the table squarely in front of Flo. . . )
Flo: Mercy, George, what’s gotten into you? You’re nearly giving me a heart attack!
George: Don’t tempt me, woman. I want an explanation from you and I want it RIGHT
NOW! No more ‘a this dilly dallying around. What in tarnation was ya doin’ out there?
Flo: Why, I’ve been in here cooking, can’t you see?
George: Cooking? Cooking? I’d say you been cooking up something all right and it ain’t
been here in this kitchen!
Flo: Why, whatever do you mean, George?
George: I seen you out there by the barn, Flo. Don’t you deny it.
Flo: I am being perfectly candid with you. I’ve been right here cooking you this supper since
4 o’clock! Why on earth would I be out behind the barn and at this hour?
George: That’s what I wanna know! I seen you from the field, Florence. Not more than
fifteen minutes ago! I might’a lost some hearing, but I sure ain’t lost my sight yet! You was
runnin’ toward the house like yer skirt was on fire. So whaddaya not telling me?
(Florences’ gaze settles on the one kitchen window, and suddenly her eyes get very large. At
this precise moment, a loud crash is heard from outside. Bruce picks up the knife from the
table and dashes off, bellowing, exiting stage left.)
For Rambling Roses' Act 1, Scene 1 Contest
Limerick: Once the Middle Kingdom’s top Concubine
Once the Middle Kingdom’s top Concubine*
Said to rule China through love combine
Dallying generals: O! Dear!
Forced Emperor to fear:
Eunuch strangled her at Buddhist shrine.
*Emperor Xuanzong’s Consort and his daughter-in-law,
Yang Guifei, 719-756 C.E.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
I've got this involuntary fascination with procrastination
The coop I file claim to for keeping my record an all time high for being poster child of mildly lackadaisical along with low key insane...
Playing the blame game with myself, now isn't that fun?
Now- ripping the mask off of the budding beast in my head. Its time to pop it like a vitamin, be still, contemplate and liberate the pain of existing as an idling ghost half way utilizing my brain.
Although deftly quick witted like one of those push-to-starts...
If i woke up on time I wouldn't have missed that bus, if I'd done that project I would've passed that class.
Procrastination keeps me from the things that I want and the things that I have. Buried under its dark engrossing waves, anticipating the answers in a sea with all the trained fishes of the population.
Procrastination wants to drown me, Make me his prized possession. But when I shake off the stagnant chips from my shoulders -
I emerge out of my retreat, and realize that I am 20 feet tall. Taller that the world that I'd thought keep me unexpressed...
Apt to new beginnings never REALLY knowing how to finish thing..
thanks to my guaranteed usual dilly dallying mindset that would always sink in JUST when I thought I'd morphed into the zealous brilliant spirit within me.
Procrastination- my arch enemy that I used to keep so near, as if it were my best friend. Finally Doggy paddling out of this stale pool. I am free productivity grabs my hand evolving what once was into what is; me.
I often wonder
as I wander through wonder
receptive to the signs
projected from minds mines
exploding in invincible
imagination invisible
like cloak and dagger
I search for the truth
whether it be within me
portrayed without my boundaries
leaping bounds
offering sounds
collected in the skies daisy dairies
harvested in the sea
fermented in vermouth
causing the tides to stagger
I lay naked in the clouds
relaxing in the dilly dallying sun
basking in the knowledge of the universe
soaking in the wisdom
of the watery breeze
fluently speaking
telepathiconversations
uttering raindrop runes
reading the realms
for telling of forecasts
faceted in fascination
I ask a simple question
where do I begin to find
where I began
sifting through the soil of my soul
scraping the soil off my soles
at the threshold of the Sun
I jump in feet first
and become purified in the pools
of swirling
spiraling
solace
chapter 1 in salvation
rewriting my past lives contribution
stepping into eternities elevation
becoming submersed in loves great basin
the reality of what everyone considers an illusion
illuminated on the paths of another dimension
reincarnated in my own waves of retribution
smiling as I'm cut by the shards of every solution
leaving it up to me to draw up the conclusion
and speak it to the masses in mass confusion
I am NOT just a speaker
I am NOT just a teacher
I am NOT just a leader
I am a seeker
lighting the way
for those who wish to catch up
Beyond the sky
The plain ground calls,
Like drop of water falls,
Offering bed of roses,
A real or an imaginary paradise it poses,
Below, I wasn’t ready to break more walls.
The blue bowel above remained visible,
Reminding me to soar – it’s advisable,
A much more deadly path to thread,
Many ascended, felled but I dared,
Leaving my footprints there - indelible.
Life has never been fair,
A heavy oppression seemed to brood upon the air,
Covered time and space determines our fate,
Not a mere figment of a poet's fancy that you should hate,
But I have made my choice like the wretched bearing Sinclair.
I choose, my decision -- going beyond the tumultuous sky,
Bearing all the stifling sensation of pains, I still fly,
Because in destitution, I see no sudden gleam of insight,
Since I know only by flying higher can I see the light,
With the inspired ray in my eyes, I need to try.
I’m done dallying in maudlin regret over the past,
Since my life is moving too fast,
On a fathomless speed of movement,
To a realm of golden improvement,
There I will be self actualized at last.
A Stewart Annie Everestus's poem © 2019
Wisping winds whisk whispered whimsies willows’ way.
By the pond, we ponder potent possibilities posed by pollinated passions.
As we divine dallying delights depicting developing days,
Moonbeams mobilize to mob us on the mossy mound.