Best Dines Poems
Blending in so beautifully in the endless everglades
The heron waits patiently
The warm wind ripples the water
He waits regally
Standing still like a statue in silent blue waters
He waits hungrily
Catching his first fish of the day
No more waiting - he dines like a king
Inspired by Majestic Pose
3~11~15
Contest Florida Nature never judges
Submitted to Premiere Contest #13 sponsored by Skat
Categories:
dines, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
When sultry ripples take a hold
Replacing naive dreams
And fantasy becomes so bold
Seductive in its schemes
It moves into her mundane life
And tempts her with such skill
That she would follow anywhere
Against her weakened will
On soaring moonbeams she does fly
She mingles with the stars
And cushioned clouds become her bed
Seduction holds no bars
Loved and wooed by many
She wows the globe’s elite
Life is just a game for her
A playground at her feet
Sips champagne under starry skies
She dines with kings in Greece
Moves like Bardot in Monte Carlo
Goes au naturale` in Nice
But true love does elude her
Wrong choices to defeat
Gambles sometimes take a turn
Taste bitter from the sweet
Evening shadows enter
Before darkness takes its toll
And Paradise was just a lie
When naïve dreams did fall
Categories:
dines, desire, feelings, lust, paradise,
Form:
Verse
LEONARDO
Lion, known well as King of the beasts,
Exemplary in strength and brawn,
Obdurate, he knows his passionate will as
Nature calls from his haughty roar has
Animals running and hiding with fear.
Regarded and revered by his pride and
Diurnal in his grassland habitat, he is protector
Of his pride, dines on meals his lionesses provide.
1-19-20
Leonardo means: LION STRONG
~First Place ~
What's In A Name Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Juliet Ligon
My thanks to:
https://media.istockphoto.com/photos/lion-pride-picture-id513047404?k=6&m=513047404&s=612x612&w=0&h=f-xxukMDKMOksI3rVYF3dcrvQwhiSjZsOnopyqP4m0I=
Categories:
dines, animal, cat,
Form:
Acrostic
One summer eve in Galilee
I stood before my open door;
to me it seemed just one more night--
like all the others gone before.
Someone would come and, passing by,
would hear the tinkling of the bells,
would see the garish harlot's robe
and painted eyes beneath my veil.
Someone, a man like all the rest--
it did not matter much to me--
a nobleman, Samaritan,
a Roman or a Pharisee,
someone would pause and with one glance
strip me again of maiden pride,
and leaving, later, never know
the shame and shattered dreams I hide.
O, he would think me very gay;
he would not see my hollow heart
nor hear me curse him for his pay.
Just then I saw a band of men
approaching down the narrow road;
there should be one among that crowd
aho wants the favors I bestow.
Kind eyes met mine, and with one look,
He saw what others could not see;
He saw the hunger of my soul,
my loneliness and misery.
I only know that since that day
I live to walk along with Him.
His look of love has changed my life;
I need not sell my love again.
Tonight He dines at Simon's house__
all day the dusty paths we roamed;
but, still he waits, unwashed, unkissed;
small courtesies no one has shown.
My love for Him! It rolls and swells
till from His side I cannot stay;
I will wash His feet with tears of love
and with my hair wipe the sand away.
Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson
Categories:
dines, christian, devotion, easter, faith,
Form:
Narrative
I've been musing lately about things that really make a home complete.
One thing for sure - a happy home is one with laughter and love replete!
'Twill be a place with affectionate parents who dearly love each other,
And blessed by a couple of kids - a little sister and her big brother!
A home ain't a home unless you have a faithful dog and inscrutable cat,
And a stoop on which to greet folks whereon lies a welcoming mat!
A grandfather clock to intone the inexorable march of time is needed,
And a fireplace with a cozy fire by which to reminisce unimpeded!
There'll be a library of classic tales with yellowed and dog-eared pages,
And a Bible that is read, having been handed down through the ages!
Displayed on the fireplace mantel will be pictures of folks from the past -
Folks from the family tree who set standards for honor unsurpassed!
There'll be a white picket fence and a trellis with climbing yellow roses,
And a huge front porch with a swing on which to enjoy pleasant dozes!
At the kitchen table, the family dines, discusses the day and grace is said.
Later the kids say nightly prayers before being tucked in their featherbed!
Marks to measure the kid's height mar the wall nigh the kitchen door.
Happy holidays and birthdays are celebrated that will add to family lore!
Though the dog and kids may create havoc as about the house they roam,
If I may quote Edgar Guest, "It takes a heap o' livin' to make a house a home!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
dines, family, house, family, dog,
Form:
Rhyme
The colorant of dawn, the cardinal sees,
intoning its hues with, “pretty...pretty...pretty.”
As I covet red feathers, in the teaberry tree,
the sunlit chickadee harmonizes, “hey sweetie.”
The woodpecker like a heckler is pining for laughs -
pounding, drumming the marionette for gaffs.
A tufted titmouse tweets, “peter...peter...peter.”
The goldfinch dines on dandelion seeds, lilting sweeter.
Outfitted with winsome wildlife, comfortable and commodious,
my small bit of forest resonates with songbirds, melodious.
Categories:
dines, bird,
Form:
Rhyme
Tell Me -Who Do You Say That I Am?
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
Word
First voice to enlighten creation’s realms
Word of prophet’s words from mystic mystery runes
Prophecy and proverb wearing vision
Flow from pure agape
Living Psalm
A to Z – song composed – never a chord that stumbles -
The perfect chaste circle drawn in round circumference
Architect of straight lines with no wobbles -
Unbroken circumcised covenant – designer of my soul
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
Anointed Mighty
Unreachable star embraced
Crafter of restoration for rebellion thrashing
Defies disabled limbs with steps of faith
Transfiguration of blackness to see the eternal face
Opens ears to hear thunder’s glory
Dines with astonished tree dwellers
Full measure of mercy’s undisturbed pulse
Knows each of my words before they breathe
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
Righteousness
Metamorphosis of nativity
Bottomless paradigm of favor
Wheat and grape in synchronicity
Holds back the hand that flings the stone
Raises up cowering shame
Eyes of perfect sight plan perfection’s gift for each heart
Pristine living covenant
My enigma’s answer – my conundrum’s solution
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
Eternal
Valentine of paradise
Eden’s immaculate reforestation
Vine of the endless unblemished harvest
Anointed eternity with us
Wholeness of a holy rainbow
Gold - no need to be refined
Face of forever consolation
My first breath in every season’s restoration
Tell me. Who do you say I am?
You are I AM.
4-27-21
Contest: Tell Me. Who Do You Say I Am?
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Categories:
dines, faith, jesus, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
JESUS by Joan May Donnelly Ellis
Jesus, You are the Brightest Light of Love
A hearth fire ablaze on Christmas Eve
A child's uncommanded hug
The flicker from a candle's flame
A Hand whose touch leaves a glow
The whisper of a lip's caress
The shower of an autumn snow
Jesus You are the manifestation of my praise
A military stride illuminated by grace
The reception of delight when pure humor releases all care
You are the warmth of an appreciative look
As You muse from your rocking chair
Jesus, You are a revelation spilling forth and pouring Light into my soul as I meditate on You
You are fresh, You are clean, a poet's dream come true
Jesus, You are as welcome as a mountain stream I surrender myself to after a hot Summer day of toil in my garden
Jesus, You are regular visits to Adventure Land
A glove, snow white shifting silken sands
You are a boy running 20 miles to be with the girl he loves.
Jesus, You are a head sinking in a bale of new-mown hay
The healing power of a Palm Tree's sway
And Jesus, You motivate every good that I do.
Jesus, You are the juice from a blade of Kentucky Blue
The tremor following a California Quake too
And Jesus, You've got what it takes to cause the Universe to fall in love with You.
Jesus, You're the dawning of a Carolina moon
The Decider who dines with silver spoon
You're the Yellow Rose of Texas in full bloom
The revival of Pentecost.
Jesus, You are a Prince in housecoat and slippers on a front porch swing
A LOVE for better or worse that clings
You're the Composer of songs Your Angel's sing.
Jesus, You are brevity
An embrace that lingers long after You go.
Jesus, You are the One who never laughed
When the child's love letter was mocked by the elite class.
And Jesus, You make bearable the insults one suffers through
Forgiveness granted for the incomplete, inaccurate view
You're the only One worthy & the only One true
Potter me in word & deed more like You.
Categories:
dines, jesus, spiritual, universe,
Form:
Verse
Tiny wavelets on the pool today, a gentle
breeze and raindrops fall with a rhythmic
pitter patter. The ducks and wildfowl pay
no heed, around the sedge bob and feed.
The Heron standing as if frozen, his
cunning eye a prey has chosen. And the
elegant Swan glides, the Cormorant
beneath the water slides. And the grey
clouds float on by on this quiet day at the
pool, the reeds sway and insects hide away,
dry wings are required to survive. The Otter
on its back dines on an unlucky Crayfish,
seems well at ease with his surrounds, and
the Water Vole enters a hole to the squeak
of hungry mouths. In the centre of the pool
a love dance, two Crested Grebes court,
ducking, bobbing, all magic to the eye. All
this beauty in the pitter patter, life goes on
it does not matter. Nature gives in many
ways, and as always this heart enslaves.
Categories:
dines, naturewater, water,
Form:
Imagism
At post teenage
some day at tea a committee
my mates same age
while seated a round wooden chair
legs crossed, sipping coffee
did asked me
why do you speak in proverbs
poetry they mean to say.
I air to them in strong verb
living poetry is great pay
In poetic pen
pour my tears
my write for men
in verse
on the tables of my mind
is engraved poetic rhymes
poetry is fertility to my kind
like fertilizer the farm
I smile and chime
On the day of my birth
to this world I ushered
I vest in shirt
to enter
POETRY was there
to curdle me with care
SHE smeared me with her
poetic cream on my curly hairs
and as a toddler
when I blink
am full of laughter
with my poetic winkle
my poetic milk teeth you did see
as an infant
you did gaze at me
poetic baby you did me call at instant
Am Poem grown now!
Stamp my attitudes on my write
customize my plight
to copyright
My lyrics in verse
of my tears
It sheds
Prose penned
my mind
in kind
Poems
to tend
my dines
I feed
I live
believe
to succeed
I hunger in poetics
I so eat poetry
I thirsts in poetics
so I drink poetry
I air in poetics
so I breath poetry
I feel bored without poetics
I love cling poetry
I dream poetics
so I live poetry
I sing poetics
I speak poetry
I sleep poetics
I sit poetically
smile poetics
chime poetically
walk poetically
laughter in poetics
work poetically
after all in poetics
am a Poet
with
a bleeding
pen.
7th place
Your fave poem 2020 not written for a contest
John H
4/19/2020
Categories:
dines, age, appreciation, dedication, love,
Form:
Personification
Quote:
If there were no night, we would not appreciate the day,
nor could we see the stars and the vastness of the heavens.
We must partake of the bitter with the sweet.
There is a divine purpose in the adversities we encounter every day.
They prepare, they purge, they purify, and thus they bless.
>>>> James E. Faust
************
For Light Then Plants Its Invincible Seeds
In that deep darkness, no pity exists
Fate too often decries such on its list
Of destruction and sad, sorrowful woes
Those mortal man feels as hard, heavy blows
Once held within, eyes bled fast to go blind
While lost hope too, seeds a worm-wooded mind!
In that set malaise, how can love rejoice
Human soul sees life as having no choice
But to bend, bow and admit utter defeat
For evil wins and evil always cheats
Agony cries, beast on human flesh dines
Where struggling in morbid black, no light shines!
In that sepulchre no pleas can escape
This world seems but a devilish landscape
Born not for man but for deep disaster
And in it, Fate and Death are two masters
Such is the great power that darkness holds
Mankind seems to be made from broken molds!
Let one ray of Light enter that abyss
Fate then finds that its poison arrows miss
For Light then plants its invincible seeds
Tends new garden removing all the weeds
And Death, its dark-dreaded touch must then wait
For Heaven above cast Light changing Fate!
Robert J. Lindley, 4-11-2021
Rhyme,
( For what is man, if divine Light does not shine )
Categories:
dines, appreciation, art, deep, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
When tons of doom filled nights fall upon your head,
embers glow fierce and fires burn unabated.
Recalling her last breath and wish you were dead
in poem's last line, you've been beat and castrated.
From the heavens, a voice thunders out dire threats
about loses and late breakfasts without eggs.
Fumbling about, looking to hedge your foolish bets,
you drink your cold coffee, down to bitter, burnt dregs.
On waking you find dawns hammer truly fell.
Last nights burns are reminders of your tortured life.
You stumble and look up from pits of dark raging hell,
recounting now the true reasons you lost your wife.
Your alarm clock chimes out vulgar curses at you
and your dark house bids you leave by peals at noon.
You think of the ancient, sad wicked dreams, too,
as night falls with it's huge wretched lucent moon.
Dreaming of hungry tigers eating your new boots.
your house perched atop two tall adjoining trees.
A hunter fires; it is not a tiger that he shoots.
Second angry wife cuts your legs off at the knees
Metaphor amputations are so savagely sever.
Your spirit cries out I must flee, tiger is near.
The tiger roars with laughter, I own all your pain.
Second lioness purrs with abject contempt and disdain
Your old slaughtered heart bleating faint cries out.
Memories tainted and dreams coercing a shout.
In abyss of regret the famished tiger dines.
You struggle to cope, tree sways breaking it's vines.
What of taunting lioness who's false words defame?
Half muted stutters quivering lips murmur blame.
Muttered niceties in deep with disgust feigned.
Tiger haunting your dreams, as King it truly reigns.
Will you take a stand your courage regained?
Can you bare the cost, can you bear the pain?
Be strong take back what your past gains.
Clean the slate wipe away the shameful stains.
Climb up from the depth of hells dark pits.
Replace dawns hammer with soft cotton mitts.
Let satisfied lioness purr, hunt the raging tiger.
Be happy, be proud of regaining your swagger.
WRITTEN WITH ONE OF THE BEST POETS I KNOW.
ROBERT LINDLEY FOR THE CHALLENGE ON HIS BLOG.
THANK YOU ROBERT FOR CHOOSING TO WORK WITH ME.
Categories:
dines, dream, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
For many years, the creek, ran passed as a drain,
Polluted and unloved; a poisoned murky vein.
A favoured dumping place, for household unwanted things -
out of sight, out of mind; and no good what it brings.
Life was almost non-existent in the creek
and weed infestation makes it sad and bleak,
but turning a blind eye has gone too long,
and allowing this pollution was so wrong.
So, ‘friends of wattle creek’ were duly formed
and at meetings their ideas quickly warmed,
with working bees to help remove the mess,
and from there, reclamation could progress.
Weeds became victims, of mattock and the hoe;
there’s room for native vegetation to regrow.
Five hundred seedlings were there every week,
and planted by the ‘friends of wattle creek.’
Through the years, there were many setbacks,
from mother nature and her natural attacks,
with flood and storms or sometimes howling gales –
and thankfully, it was just the weak that fails.
With the foliage and the flowers an attraction
for lorikeet and honeyeater squabbling action;
weebills and pardalotes, were giving lots of cheek,
to warm the hearts of ‘friends of wattle creek.’
Undergrowth is cover for the wary bandicoot,
and the sugar glider dines on native fruit.
In the shallows of the creek; water is now clean;
once again, a spiny crayfish can be seen.
In a few short years, the volunteers with vision,
turned away an eyesore, with a right decision,
now it’s paradise restored from something bleak,
and all thanks goes to the ‘friends of wattle creek.’
The health of wattle creek is quite amazing,
and ‘friends of wattle creek’ deserve the praising.
Native fish are thriving; bird numbers are on track;
it warms the heart to know – the platypus is back.
For many years, the creek, ran passed as a drain,
Polluted and unloved; a poisoned murky vein,
but is now a thriving green belt, captivating all,
and the ‘friends of wattle creek’ are standing tall.
Categories:
dines, environment, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
There's a Good Man just up that hilltop there.
A Good Man,
He loves all children, both the troublemaker and the perfect ones.
He loves the poor and gives them alms and shelter.
He loves the hungry and thirsty, he feeds them and gives them wine.
He loves all who mourn, and comforts them.
He loves the ill and heals them of their ailments.
He loves the peacemakers, and befriends them.
Among these things, this Good Man loves sinners, and he dines with them.
Despite these things, that Good Man is up there on that hilltop, among the thieves and the criminals.
Despite his love for all, he's treated like a murderer, flogged and beaten.
Tortured;
All for his blasphemy.
He was forced up that hilltop against his will,
But never did I see him strike any who condemned him,
Nor did I see him curse all who struck him.
As the beating sun scorned upon the crowd and the Good Man,
No longer carrying his piece of wood upon his back;
His face turns upward, to the sky.
And he calls for Elijah.
Soon, the Good Man dies.
The King of the Jews dies by Roman hands.
As the Good Man dies,
The earth trembles
The sky turns cloudy and blackens out the sun
The winds nearly blows us all on our backside.
Soon, it becomes apparent to all onlookers,
That this man was no Blaspheimer.
The Good Man was the Son of God.
And instead of bowing down to him,
We crucify him.
And so,
I tell you,
On the top of that hilltop,
Dead,
Among the sinners,
Is a Good Man.
A Man who loved all.
A man sent by Elijah and killed by us.
Jesus of Nazareth.
King of the Jews.
Categories:
dines, bible, blessing, death, heaven,
Form:
Free verse
Upon the stage, curtains wave and part;
halos arise from black velvet canvas, an aurora-lime dance.
Arced streamers among the nimbus lends it’s flavors of cherry and
orange, personality to a taste of the ethers.
A display of lavender-pink tones are electric kisses and promenade.
A luminous do-see-do sparks crescendo, a gods warm breath.
The northern winds and the waters echo the notes
sung by the goddess of the dawn as, she dines
and dances her masterpiece upon heaven’s canvas.
Resplendent beauty of Heaven’s smile is etched upon
etched upon the painted sky. This...display,
ecstasy to the human eyes.
Categories:
dines, nature, poems, poetry, seasons,
Form:
Free verse