Best Decors Poems


Spring Is In the Air

Air smelling lavender lily, in splash of wild flowers.
Bowers of rustic rosebuds, first love fragrance hours.
Cloudless skies exalt blue, fuzzed in luscious green.
Daffodils of yellow beams, bloom with night jasmine. 
Ephemeral path of blue birds, sync butterflies scarlet,
Fancy rejoice of dalliance, in pink and purple  banquet. 
Gardens cloister colored valleys , petals  in avalanche
Hyacinth perfumed sunshine, glossy blossoms branch.
In transit, cold greets summer, change of fresh attire,
Juvenile mind that's young, feels like flying higher.
Kisses stolen in gentle flirts, flowing streams of nectar, 
Love sings joy and dance, in promise of new laughter.
Magical burst of smiling buds, re-sprout hidden hope,
Notes of mirth in dulcet , birds weave nest to cope.
Orange foliage sets fire, as decors of art unveil.
 Primrose bedecked palanquins , sway in royal gale,
Queen of nature rides in beauty, crocuses in thicket. 
Resurrected winter mist,..in green life, all succulent.
Sonnets, ballads, songs, gallery of dream for ages
Timeless glory of beauty in painter and poet pages
Up from a pastel sky, nymphs walk down filigree paths
Valentine day's just gone, the season of love  to last
Wild cherry blossoms of silk,  greet in a pink hello 
Xylophone notes chant in a stream of music flow.
Young lovers gyrate... in a romantic love affair
Zephyr wind throws a hug,...Spring is in the air.






15th March 2019

It Is Up To Us

It is up to us
If blissful beams will brew from the 
Bloom of our bounteous bond

It is up to us
If moving melodies will mount from this duet
In a magnificent mode made up by the Master

It is up to us
If this handsome halves will hatch and harp
A harmony no haunting heinous one can hack

It is up to us
To nourish it with noble nosh and nectar
And nurture it in nice notions and nature

It is up to us
To deck it in devout drapes and dye in dazzling decors
With no dint of debauched debris

It is up to us
To deliver this destiny to divine dominance
Or divide in the devil’s divorce and discord

Premium Member Balloons In Billions

Over eight billion balloons from the ground ready to race
Eyeing the sky, so high with God's grace
Countless balloons inflated with embrace
With air so filtered, ready to fly to leave a trace

Balloons of different colors
Colors that speak your words and decors
Different shades people love to gaze
Shades of you in many definitions of maze

One love balloon for each life that strives
One strong balloon over any obstacle that survives
One life for each happy balloon with high fives
One story for each good balloon that grows, smiles 
  and drives


Premium Member My Favourite Food For Christmas

 Fruit Cake


Got a round stomach, yet  Yuletide  decors still roll in the mouth.






©2015Leonora Galinta
     All Rights Reserved




Nov. 19, 2015.    11.15pm
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.

At the Other Side

20 July 2010

At The Other Side


Into the other side of the world, July is cold
Southern hemisphere relinquish magical winter time
Beautiful polar lights display in the sky as manifold
Of a dancing spirits doing a mime

An early desire to feel good tidings of great joy
To believe that Saint Nicholas will visit ahead of time
Excited to embellish the house with a ploy
Christmas decors to ingest sharing as of prime

A time to celebrate a mimicked Christmas
From December been moved for this month
Announcing Christmas sale, we go shopping with an adrenaline rush
A peak season also for skiing on snow field’s slant

Serve enticing foods in the table
Welcoming orange and marmalade roast
A honey and mustard glazed ham so palatable
A champagne and canapés proposing a toast

7th place to "CHRISTMAS" in July" (FOR MEN ONLY) Contest
Contest Date:  7/26/2010 	 
Sponsored by: Sweetheart of Poetry Soup

An Anklet of Whim

I am a woven thread of red, white and yellow,
I make hundred emotions mellow,
I transcend your walk into a flight of swallow,
With chimes, I fulfill nature’s hollow.
 I am a woven thread with possible decors,
You love the way I adore,
I see the world through your color,
I inhale the world through your odor.
I will be your solo anklet,
I will embellish your ankle,
I will cover your wrinkle,
I will make tiny bells jingle,
I will make chimes sprinkle,
I will spread happiness,
Being your anklet.
I have two beads and a bell,
I don’t make sonorous sounds real,
I have pop colors to make you feel well.
On your ankle, I dwell,
Like a precious threaded jewel.
I won’t let anything harm you,
I won’t let a scratch to attack you,
I will turn myself into a black thread,
I will add an evil eye bead,
I will protect you from every danger,
I will be the solo ranger,
On your left toe.
On your ankle, I will be red string of fate,
Keeping me, you will find your soulmate.
I will be sea green beads on your toe-ring,
I will be the silver drops that always shine,
I will make you smile,
When you touch me, remembering sunshine.
I will be your sunshine,
I will glisten in moonshine,
Because your body is my shrine;
I am the flower oblates on your feet,
 I am the threaded anklet over your brood.
I might be a mere glass bead string,
I am your accessory ever dazzling.
I am the happiness, always raining.
I am your ankle-string, always roaming,


Mini Earthquake Experiences

Experienced a third bigger earthquake recently but this poem I wrote for a smaller earthquake years ago)

My first trivial tremor experience had been in Southern Africa
And now this puny earthquake I felt in Tanzania. 

I saw every thing waltz to and fro and lightly shake
Bottles turned ballerinas dancing slightly to the quake

I watched glass decors on the walls quiver and jolt
Scaredy me was half asleep, no wonder didn't bolt

I thought I was dreaming or imagining things
My bed and chairs converted into gentle swings. 

All vials and vases 
jiggled to dance a jig
The lil horrors over 
So I cast humor's wig

Ah when began rattling, the knick knacks on my dresser
Was when it dawned upon me in horror
That this was really an early dawn tremor. 

I phoned some friends but those early risers
Hadn't even noticed or felt those tremors
I bet they thought I was spreading false rumours
After all poets are stereotyped as fanciful philosophers. 

My cell phone keypad became my panic button in a flurry
Of course I wanted all to be alerted, alarmed in worry


Nobody believed me until it was announced  in our mosque
And every body was then called by muezzin to pray the signs prayers
Then every body knew the tremor was no hoax
Some patted me for being the first to notice this shaking of earthly layers

Of course I thanked God this was no major earthquake
I've heard in other places how terribly the earth can crack  and shake

Who else but God could I owe my heartfelt gratitude
For this being my 2nd low power tremor in magnitude
As it measured low on the Richter scale
based on the seismic waves' amplitude

But the earth was shaken and I too was shaken
No pics of the shivering axis were taken

Todate runs down my spine such a shiver
On recalling how the mother earth did quiver

I have seen videos of earthquakes where the earth juggles things 
like a salt shaker 
May God protect us from such a waker and breaker

Cores and Hubs

Core or hubs…
Change the chains related our mental health.
Free our slaves of silks and all untied.
China ill reputes may take a bath to wash.
Baths as French are beauty ways.
French has right and left and gather wings may think and talk and take their French politic steps reset or set together some.
Share the same or something rotten tastes exclusive all are china tyrants both with china jesters.
Ways with frills will need decors as china leaders charm offense or nasty nice with soft despotic.
Moral hazards all are china politic games with jungle laws.
Global games are china evil ways as cores or hubs.
Hardly seen are global worlds with evil hazes.
China landscapes all have lunatic fringes with china conquerors. Tibet DALAI LAMA must be sad. China lunatic fringes may ride and sail.
Tibet DALAI LAMA leave and flee are political groups abused by China tyrants ordered armies that called china P.L.A.
Helms as china Maoism teams with terms and names by doing crazy silly things in mania ways that made.
Cores and hubs are ways of fierce beasts but human self asserted and self esteems as all from starts to en. Will fixations also minds so complexes just are china commie till the old to new.
Self for means and cover all and attempt so much that all are acting cores or hubs of china commies those is such.
-------------Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3-------------
         
 
.

The Herbalist

The Herbalist:-

She deals with herbs,
She collects the rarest herbs,
She creates new drugs,
She burns the weeds,
She smokes weeds,
She bedecks her bun with flowers,
She allures us with bluish ferns,
She looks beautiful in each turn!!
She is the bewitching herbalist,
She lets me inhale wildflowers,
She exhales aromatic odor,
She reddens her lips with herbal color,
She heals me within an hour,
She entices me to have rain-shower,
She believes in her power,
I worship her endeavor,
She is my broodness healer!!
Her swift fingers collect saffrons,
Heer eyes recognize the ideal rhododendrons,
She collects honey seducing the bees,
She picks reddish maple leaves.
Her grinder crushes the limes,
She marinates herbs with jasmines,
She decors her hut with cones of pines,
I love the way her chants whine!!
She applies dark kohl around her eyes,
She wears a crescent nose-pin
She applies oil on her messy fringes,
I notice the tiny tattoo on her chin;
In descent manner her ankle-bells ring.
I know it’s a temporary fling,
Still, appearance of her lover makes my world spin.
She never ceases to surprise me,
She incredibly heals me,
Her presence makes me sane every time,
Her peaceful eyes appease me.
She is the ultimate healer,
She is my worry eraser,
She is the song of sparrow,
She is the sharpest arrow,
She’s blotted all my sorrows.

Mary Kate

Mary Kate 
     nails polished with chocolate,
     dark hair stiff with peanut butter gel,
          poses as a child.

Her beloved "gwitter" dress and patent leather shoes 
clash with the jeans and and sneakers
of her first-grade companions, yet she is
     first to climb the monkey bars,
     hurtle down the slide,
     dive into the ball pit.
Her face proclaims "imp," "leprechaun."
Freckles prance across the bridge of her nose
     like decors atop a creamy vanilla cupcake.

But her winter-ocean eyes and uncertain smile
belie these illusions as I hear her wrestle with an
unforgiving world:
     Why do friends move away?
     Why did it rain on my birthday?

     Why can't we live with Daddy?

But soon the playground beckons,
     and she is off, fighting for her childhood.

What It Really Is

Houses filled with gleaming decors,
Lights are twinkling as the carols we're singing,
There are people dancing while others are cheering,
Everyone's at joy,celebrating the birth of the king,

I've heard a loud crash,
loud enough to make my heart pound,
But not enough to make to the celebration stop,
Not enough for the loud crash to be given  a while,

The joy continues for they say,"It was the birth of the king"
The sound goes louder as my heart keeps pounding,
Lights are still twinkling with the carols singing,
I hope the celebration was still for the king,

I step out of the crowd trying to find some peace,
And I was shocked,It wasn't the peace that I found,
What I found we're people trying to save their houses,
Throwing pales of water while their tears are running,

I witness the fire but can do nothing but to cry,
I feel the heat who burned-out number of houses,
I even hear the young girls' cry,
With my heart broken I try to give it a while and listen as she cry,

As I was listening I noticed she's not crying,
She's singing!
The little girl is singing,
"Saylenay,olenay,oliskay,olisbray"

The little girl whose house we're burnt by fire,
 truly knows for whom the celebration was,
The little girl singing,"Silent Night,Holy Night,All is bright" 
and not those  who join the crowd truly knows what Christmas really is.

Grave of Nature Lover

Don't lay the plucked flowers on my grave
for,I am not at all alive to crave
I don't want my name to be engraved
for,it had long since been waived

Stack the colorful flower pots on all corners
Sow some grass seeds round the borders
Also plant the flowering green creepers
Let them adorn the place as decors

May the flowers smile throughout the years
and let timbre of smiling flowers reach the ears
of the dancing butterflies and let them appear
and gracefully dance with full of cheers

On the center of the grave, fix a big bird feeder,
may it enthrall the blabbers and baya weavers
Also dig a small pond that is about ten meter
and fill in the pond with crystal clear water
Let it be used as the ultimate thirst quencher,
quenching innocents thirst and there's nothing better.

No need of tombstone and epitaph to honor
My grave shouldn't be a place of horror
Listening to the nature's songs at my place
my soul will ever rest in peace

It's a Christmas Carol

In a cold and rainy day
I perceive the winds that blow away
Raindrops plummet on the ground
With its strong and deafening sound
 
Though the heaven isn’t clear
But laughter is what I hear
Little children feel so much excitement
For it would be their awaited moment
 
But not all are ready for their presentation
What I can see are movements and actions
“Oh yes teacher! This is the day,
But can we have a final practice, is it okay?”
 
I nod my head with a smile
So I’ve wait for a while
Jolly moves and sweet voices
With so much enthusiasm on their faces
 
I call everybody’s attention
So we could start the presentation
But some kids are not yet around
They aren’t yet in the school bound
 
“Where are they?” I ask
“Ma’am, they are still preparing props”
Kids respond with a sad heart
Then I inform them that we are about to start
 
Seconds and minutes of waiting
But yet, no one is coming
Outside their eyes are staring
And minds are too busy thinking
 
I decide to start the caroling
And so the first group starts singing
But then they are still hoping
That their colleagues are coming
 
At the end of the occurrence they arrive
With nervousness that is so hard to hide
Teary-eye they came
But no one to blame
 
 
They’re thinking that their efforts are useless
For it seems that there are no chances
They feel too hopeless
And lose their self confidence
 
I do my part as teacher
Words of encouragement for them to be better
“It’s okay my dear”
“It’s better late than never”
 
It’s a Christmas carol
They’re bringing attractive decors
Excellent grades are what they want to savor
Eager to end it with flying colors
 
I bestow them another chance
For they are in good hands
I want them to succeed and be happy
Their success is what I want to see

by : JOYZEL MAE P. SOTES
dedicated to : Grade VI pupils of Calatrava I  Central School
December 11, 2013

Bahay Kubo Iii

BAHAY KUBO III

A makeshift house
Walking distance by the sea
No matter how poor and humble
It is a house and a home
Made of light materials
Bamboos, cogons, and madre cacaos
Relatives and friends helped me
Built this through thick and thin inspired
Sometimes, laughing at its posture
But we are definite
We live on it sharing and enjoying company, despite
We shall put decors little by little
Wood carvings and our poems and pics in frame
We are sure we’ll make a shift life from abroad to rural lives
Bringing out our love in fresh air days
Enjoying the dragon fruit blooms
And under moonlight nites!

Terms:
Bahay Kubo  -- a small hut 
Cogons--a wild plant  that can be gathered when mature and can be used as a 
roof.  It is not so popular anymore as roofs have been replaced with more durable 
materials in the market.
Madre cacao-- A tree in the Philippines which has several general purposes.  Its big 
branches can be used as  posts for  small houses.  
Dragon fruit--cactus-like tree, blooms only at night! It has anti-oxidant properties 
which help prevent cancer-causing free radicals. (from Wikipedia)

Note:  This is my dream in its stage 3!!

To--

Down through the Alps, immortal, standing high
Whose feathers are the clouds of passing days
And whose sweet bosoms touch the milky sky
And whose faint breaths birth thick and gentle haze;
Upon the hills and valleys, laced with white
And brushed by bonnets of the passing clouds
There is beneath the mounts, a lovely sight:
Which please all mortal eyes: soft daisy crowds.
Of all unearthly, flowery June treasure
Of all the decors and bouquets of spring
Perchance, the fairest, by all equal measure
Yon daisies, in the moist glades, lingering
    And there where such soft blossoms dance and play
    Are you and I upon a summer day 

© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov

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