Best Demesne Poems
Written: September 08, 2023
Sunsets Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Natasha L Scragg
_____________________________________________________________
In September golden day, so glorious and beamy,
As twilight stains the sky, a cynosure so dreamy.
Dusk abides, effulgent hues ignite the land,
And felicity abounds as we bask in daylight's sleek hand.
Penumbra kisses the horizon, casting a mellifluous spell,
Fugacious twinkles, as erstwhile avian dwell.
A demesne of pastures, comely and calm,
Where halcyon trees sway to the riparian psalm.
Harbingers of sunset, sunburnt and diaphanous,
Serenade the land with their soothing lullaby chorus.
Vesper whispers skid, such an elixir so tall,
Glamour and silence embrace, as the trees do enthrall.
In this bucolic scene, dulcet and radiant,
The purple hues paint a landscape so vibrant.
Slumber approaches, as the red heat fades
Epiphany dawns, a dramatic parade.
The horizon ablaze with refulgent light,
Lurid flames of passion, inflamed and bright.
Beaming through the breeze, the sundown delight,
A spectacular event, incandescence ignites the night.
As the gloaming swings to night, a symphony unfolds,
A dance of shades and emotions, stories yet untold.
In the afterglow, the world retreats,
To a striking melody, where each note meets.
Splendiferous sunset, resplendent and grand,
The nighttime sky bestirs, a resounding band.
Evenfall descends, with its dark flame,
A splendid display, a sight to acclaim.
The striking hues, such a painting divine,
Illuminate the darkness, with a radiant shine.
The nighttime sky, a tapestry of wonder and delight,
A symphony of colors, painting the night.
The evenfall whispers a tale so sweet,
As the moon rises, the night's heartbeat.
A symphony of silence, embraced by the dark,
A peaceful retreat, where dreams embark.
It was
a dalliance
this bucolic lost town,
just ephemeral my visit,
petrichor scents of fresh rain, just fallen,
birds songs a harbinger of me,
oh serendipity,
efflorescence
caress.
I feel
the erstwhile past
in the vacant buildings,
the sadness an epiphany,
beyond nature calls my propinquity
but I stay and stroll empty streets,
redolent with flowers,
this demesne lost
in time.
____________________________
March 18, 2016
Poetry/Rictameter/Ghost Town
Copyright Protected ID, 03-769-605-18
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
For the Standard contest, A Day In A Town,
sponsor, Nayda Evette Negron, Judged 03/2016
First Place
Submitted into the Standard contest, Give me a Ricktameter!
sponsor, M.L. Kiser, Judged 02/16/2022
First Place
I left my little bucolic home to spend a day in town,
A few hours of mere dalliance and shopping for a gown.
A mansion with demesne and a sale sign, caught my eye.
Such epiphany of grandeur I was unable to pass by.
I had ephemeral time to use, I would indulge my senses
With efflorescence from the gardens, always hidden by the fences.
The harbingers of Spring were there, the red robin and his cousins.
In propinquity they gathered and they numbered by the dozens.
The fresh air was redolent with the special scents of May
And the petrichor resulting from a sudden rain that day.
Erstwhile my man was waiting, and I knew free time was flying.
That serendipity happening had kept me from my dress buying.
Demesne
at Pergamon
stirred an epiphany.
The Aqueducts, Acropolis,
propinquity, Temple Dionysus,
Trajan Temple- all so magnificent.
Persian, Greek, and Roman wonders;
some standing, most lying...
erstwhile kingdoms,
all gone.
I viewed
and imagined
robust efflorescence
that once filled this bucolic place.
Dalliance here, much too ephemeral.
Damp ruins- yellow soil stirred petrichor.
Wild grass, broken art; redolent
grave serendipity...
wars...harbinger...
of loss.
March 20, 2016
~1st Place~
Contest: A Day In A Town
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: 04/14/2016
Required words in order of appearance:
demesne, epiphany, propinquity, erstwhile, efflorescence, bucolic, dalliance, ephemeral, petrichor, redolent, serendipity, harbinger
Quote: True intelligence requires fabulous imagination. Ian Mcewan
______________________________________________________________
In a realm of dulcet dreams, a tale unfurls,
Where fleeting moments dance with the sublime,
A fugacious world where time swiftly swirls,
And fabulousness transcends the paradigm.
Amidst the quintessential meadow green,
Where propinquity weaves its tender thread,
A susurrous symphony of whispers keen
Guiding souls to where bucolic dreams are spread
The cynosure of these demes is divine.
A solitary tree with branches vast,
Its leaves are gossamer, delicate, and fine.
A sanctuary where demure hearts find solace at last.
From its boughs, an elixir drips and sings.
A tincture of nature's sweetest essence,
An elixir that heals and renews all things,
A harbinger of peace and quintessential presence.
With each sip, pyrrhic fruition is won.
As burdens are shed and troubles are eased,
The soul is uplifted, the spirit is spun,
In this sanctuary, worries are appeased.
Whispers of the bucolic breeze parade,
Through fields of wildflowers and sun-kissed air,
Nature's symphony, the sweet serenade
A melody that bears hearts out of despair.
As the sun sets on this magical scene,
The demesne was bathed in hues of gold and red.
The elixir power, forever serene,
Leaving a lingering bliss, a memory that never fades.
Whispers of the bucolic breeze remain.
In the hearts of those who dare to believe,
In the power of nature's gentle refrain,
And the magic it can weave.
Written: November 12, 2023, For Unseekeing Seeker Contest
_____________________________________________
Love is a rule binding us all, broad yet near,
Saffron sun sparks souls and spells fear.
Anger, stern iron law, and lethal sword to slay,
Charm shine, truth is a virtue, clean for aye!
We dwell in an ambivalent demesne of mind,
As feelings and amorphous concepts collide.
Follow me in this odyssey of introspection,
Delving into a quest for our soul's correction.
On this planet, hate spreads as a blaze,
Swallowed in the raging blast of a maze.
Consciousness draws us to raw heights,
Where dignity and empathy reign sleight.
Our abode is the vast canvas of the brain,
Disguised skepticism and ideologies strain.
This is where we face our darkest fears,
And delve into the roots of rage and tears.
Apathy is a cancer that eats at the soul,
A fatal illness that harms beyond control.
The way to growth requires looking inward,
Tear rage webs apart. Hello is a flimsy word.
I hear the quiet ticking of the clock in the hall,
That clock has put me to sleep. A crimson ball.
Being fed lies and fake facts, my soul is aware,
You ought to not have lied to me or compared.
Upon venting the wrath to a dear friend,
Anger melted, and the load did transcend.
I spoke with trust, unburdened by my soul,
And I gazed as my grief started to console
In this case, it is a correction that leads the way,
As we release our mutual animosity and affray.
For the sake of our deepest inner rectification,
We uncover the splendor of our actual reflection.
Written: September 15, 2023
______________________________________________________________
In a cosmic world where marvels dwell,
There lies a well where truth does swell.
Under the surface of the cultural tide,
Dissemination of erudition, hence and wide.
Yet, amidst the waves, dishonesty lingers.
Distorting the successful and the weaker
Be empowered to deceive and ensconce.
An idealistic facade where virtue is sparse.
But in the depths of this deceitful sea,
An epiphany awaits, for all to foresee.
A childhood memory of chastity and bliss
That truth was pure, and deceit was dismissed.
A poisonous world may shroud the mind.
But the wonders of verity forever shall bind.
Akin to pollinating bees on a kinetic canvas,
Seeking nectar from flowers is so vast thus.
In this meadow of erudition, we yearn to descry,
The ageless wisdom is unflawed and comply.
In the well of truth, we perceive the light,
Ushering us through the gloomiest night.
Oh, how avarice can pinch and sting.
But verity embrace is an everlasting thing.
It displays the world with hues bright,
Cleansing the soul and bringing forth delight.
In this enormous depth of a world so sumptuous
Let verity be the criterion, the steady unctuous.
In its embrace, we descry our demesne way,
Navigating through every ephemeral day
In the depths of the well, we espy our worth,
A vestige of our genuine niche on earth.
To quest for knowledge, to master, and to grow
To endorse the elision and veracity within us flow.
And it is on this jaunt that we shall arrive.
A candid and guileless mind is graceful to thrive.
Let us, then, face the mysteries that await us.
And acquiesce in the core of verity to emerge, thus.
You can
drive your whole life
not look upon the face
of harbingers in spring wet earth.
Remembering the ephemeral warm
Mediterranean summers
clean Petrich or fresh rain
bucolic life
setting.
Yielding
a nostalgic
propinquity city's
efflorescence dress brick building.
The epiphany of an old church as
it sings the echoes of erstwhile.
Redolent warm feeling
Victorian
versed homes.
Yester
years fine brushstrokes.
Trees towering on the
outskirts of the demesne beauty
Unique, intertwined dalliance with the
farmed and the wild a wonderful
serendipity finds
quiet hunger
of life.
3/31/2016
The city's two-block business district consists of the original brick buildings built in the 1880s and 1890s
I use to work in the Oakland School. They have left the very small town the same, it's like walking into the past. It lays in a valley surrounded by mountains. A very old silo still stands where they use to burn the woodchips. Very beautiful old town.
Serendipity came into play, when I stumbled upon a gallery,
I was a tourist in a seaside town, shopping midst a vast array
while blinding rays of sun’s reflection, caught my close propinquity
In one window, several seascapes, bucolic seaside scenes
but, one small painting called to me,..a harbinger of all my fantasies
I cupped my hands around my eyes...and that was when I sighed....
It took my breath, and I was kept a captive by the artist's pride...
A lovely landscape of a town, the village of my dreams
This very street now, whence I stand, but from a different theme
Redolent of days erstwhile of scenes, from time quite long ago
Before the tourists trampled ground, and shopped for souvenirs
This village poised, beneath the hills...turned back two hundred years
Where cottage homes wore faded frames, on efflorescence sands
demesne spreading wild and free, and skies were azure bands
Narrow lanes branched far away from roads that went astray
dipping down to petrichor dunes, where grasses bend in wind
A general store and a blacksmith shop, and summer never ends
Seagulls glide with angel wings, against the afternoon
The peaceful lift that lives within, how wonderful it looms...
With a dalliance of my own epiphany, ..my thoughts are wild and free
how ephemeral it would be if I could freeze this day
If I could pull it out to see and visit it...again,
If I could bring it back when I am down, ...this peaceful afternoon...
Where leaves would never fall from trees, so ancient in their sway
And the gentle slopes would never know cruel storms of winter days
Where tears would never fall, again, and age, a timeless thing
If I could paralyze this town, the way it was back then
If time could be my captive prize.....if only for awhile…
I'd smile, if once I were allowed, a chance, to step inside
___________________________________________________
3/15/16 For Contest: "A Day In A Town" Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron
Required Words Used:
1.Bucolic 2. Dalliance 3. Demesne 4. Efflorescence 5. Ephemeral 6. Epiphany 7. Erstwhile 8. Harbinger 9. Petrichor 10.Propinquity 11.Redolent 12. Serendipity
Evening.
A harbinger,
the breeze is redolent
with petrichor. Soft rain begins.
Across my bucolic demesne, I see
My erstwhile dalliance’s town
Ephemeral it was
But such passion
lives on
That day
A willow tree
Where serendipity
Turned propinquity to romance
The epiphany of our love brought not
Open doors, but a higher fence.
Ancient love eons old
Recalled from my
wheelchair.
Jade eyes
Chocolate skin
Casualty of hate.
Granddaughter rolls me back inside
Efflorescence crunches under the wheels
Her eyes flit to the ebony
Young man down the road
Perhaps times change.
Hope lives.
4/10/16
I had
a wonderful
dalliance one day in
a town -its bucolic setting
redolent of petrichor and roses.
It was in propinquity
to a demesne where I
saw the face from
my dreams!
He was
a harbinger -
Sweet serendipity!
Where efflorescence clung to stones,
he kissed me; then came my epiphany.
In erstwhile days I‘d seen his face.
Oh, joy ephemeral!
I had kissed my
cousin!
Written April 10, 2016 (checked by Howmanysyllables.com)
for the "A Day in a Town" Rictameter Poetry Contest
of Nayda Ivette Negron
NORTHERN ENGLAND
Steep hills and sudden
Gouged by ice, and water-formed -
This is no civilized landscape gentle
With demesne and orchard
And sun-kissed downland copses;
It is the terrain of warfare,
Of Northumbrian tearing at Scot,
Of Hadrian walling off the terrifying Pict,
Where the sea is held by Marsden’s cliffed face
And Cullercoats huddles in fear of a storm.
.................................................................
Other poems of mine, similar to this, are available at
https://www.fictionmagazines.com/magazines/five/
Harbingers...
Bucolic Sounds...
Efflorescence in Abundance...
Petrichors of late Summer,
Redolent of Propinquity to Creation,
Erstwhile Demesne of God.
An Ephemeral Dalliance,
Serendipitous Timing...
EPIPHANY !
Florida gardens boast menageries most marvelous—
Vermilion hibiscus nodding in the breathlike breezes
Infused with night-blooming jasmine and selenicereus scents.
Mockingbirds trilling like nightingales in the palm trees,
Twilight fading in the lush and dusky thickets…
Iguanas on perfumed frangipani blooming beneath
The luscious mangoes ripening on the bough;
And all overlain with pellucid starry skies…
Atavistically touching on my ancestral demesne
Like ripples on profound and placid pools
Into space, a rammed ship the passing Star spewed.
Feverish, life into its bowels forever doomed.
Survival hopes by a tumefying Sun aerified.
The void, blindly the last ship hopefully roved.
About a new demesne the space travellers were excited.
From afar a blue planet, with alleviation, they sighted.
Secretly nearing, at dawn they furtively on the planet landed.
A new chapter in their civilization they had just started.
‘What a Shangri-la!’ bewitched, they all exclaimed.
Vast, green meadows that no horizon limited.
Here and there by splashes of color patched.
That small, clean springs generously watered.
The commander under the charm stooping.
‘ look ! Life in here is pullulating.
Each creature, its task dutifully executing.
Listen! Their sprightliness they are serenading.
It must be good to live here.’
Somewhere in the wild alarmed Geese ominously cackled.
A hellish plan the artful Aliens concocted.
Under human skin they concealed.
With unaware Earthlings they mingled.
Unnoticed, power they gradually gained.
Up the ladders they patiently climbed.
Ultimately, human fate in their hands they grasped.
The worldlings’ minds they totally captured.
With treasure and pleasure they baited
Vice and decadence in tellurians they reared.
Race inequalities they first prophesied.
Hate and disdain they tacitly stirred.
Family haleness they second attacked.
Males and females they confused.
Their innate assets they crucified.
Looseness and profligacy they skillfully preached
Rejuvenation off households sloughed.
ROBINS DESERTED THE SKY.