Best Draping Poems
Painting sky before I was born,
Draping my grave in leaf and acorn.
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Contest: Crystalline
Sponsor: Rick Parise
11.22.14
Oh how I hate the winter where my limbs are exposed and seen
I just adore the spring time, I wear my dress of emerald green
Draping myself in lush foliage, not an inch of body you can see
Until warm winds of autumn arrive and begin to undress me
Then I start to shiver as my gown of golden leaves falls away
Leaving me cold and naked until spring returns again one day
08~22~15
Trills tumble through an air long silenced
warbled melodies enlighten the palate
whistles delight but fly off to the thistle
freighted by the frigid speak
amongst the downturn of the day
where blue skies lost their way
Memories of warm caresses
sing along in forgotten dreams
eclipsed heat of destiny
dealt away behind a curtain
draping naked rays of beauty
relegated to shroud in faded grey
Faint knocks of glory soon heard
where smiles seep in secret
gone but not forgotten
under blankets of hope
a moon struck douse of patience
left to awaken another day
A wink of the sun gently caresses my slumbered eyes
the rush of the tide slowly moves in and out
lightly dampening the virgin white sand
on this secluded tropical beach,
The scent of coconut fills the fresh oceanic air
and then I see you
emerging from the churning sea
more beautiful than Aphrodite
glimmering
your long soaked hair
reaching down
draping that soft sweet skin
you sway
as you come closer
twinkling
those caramelized eyes
so rich, so full of life
staring right at me
I speak
but you don't let me
placing your luscious lips upon mine
and we kiss
like we have never kissed before
as the last drop of water falls
off your sundrenched body.
At last
a lover's paradise
Standing alone on this beach
Standing alone on this beach
remembering the sun greeting the horizon,
draping an aquamarine skyline
in swirling watercolor ribbons
enticing twilight to make an appearance
and the seashells we collected
while leaving our footprints
beneath a cheerful summer moon
sharing warm kisses as
cool water caressed our toes
where you drew a heart in the sand,
and we stood inside promising
to love each other forever,
then counted every star in the heavens
until the dawn returned
Now a desolate shore scattered with
mother of pearl shards
weeps beneath cold clouded skies,
saturated by a sorrowed surf of
wistful waves retreating from
the broken heart I’ve drawn in the sand,
one set of footprints within,
no longer counting stars,
not caring if dawn ever returns,
standing alone on this beach . . .
without you
Written for the Lost Love - Free Verse or Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
I sketch musky infernos with kohl ink
when dead wings of flurry moon lace my
copper blue lashes and ripples
of faith crash furthest seashores,
Draping stelliform-soul
in strokes of starlight
which drizzle as
lemon drops
upon
pink
sheet-
canvas,
So when red
letters twirl like
blood stained cranberries,
rose-gold amulets will
always save the salted flesh
of sun and wildflowers shall shine
as magenta peony-bows in
maroon hair-strings, forever breathing dreams.
sari of morn floats
draping temples with orchids,
as Angkor Wat blows its mist
to flame coned incense;
and in the still of homage
pilgrims wander with their gods.
Angkor Wat, Cambodia
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May 2018 Standard Contest of Brian Strand
Come gently like a winding trellis
stroking my shape as you fondle
my vulnerability, and tease,
tease curves of my spine with whispers
to unleash what is half-awake in my eyes,
draping my flesh with the scent
of this moistened night…
And I am lost among fibrous roots
clinging to a warm pistil
like a raging dart,a moonlit flame.
Your bended arms warmly mount
my transparent skin,
only to hold back as the dizzy air
blows these ruffled tresses
smelling of earth and jasmine...
You gaze at the cleavage
of an open mouth, wandering
on a tight pulse between
the trellis of desire...how in this
hungry glow, I cannot explain why
your irises slay me bare;
that on a sweltering duskfall
so mysteriously anonymous,
I seem to ask you to come gently
and touch my waiting steam.
Contest of Lewis Raynes That Is Sexy
6/22/2016
I sit in stillness
framed by glass
the world outside dances
sunlight spills like golden honey.
yet within these walls I stay.
regret coils.....
around me tight as a noose
lurking in shadows.
I breathe in
inhaling the vastness of
the ocean's essence.
I can feel it
my heart beats.....
steady as stone.
I glance out and see
islands shimmering like dreams…..
clouds lazily drift by.
like ghostly albatrosses.
heavy with the mental wobbling weight
of untold excruciating hours
spent in despair.
I can hear
waves hum their foaming forgotten lullabies.
spilling secrets from the depths.....
beneath the starlit sky
I sail on
gliding over waveless waters
alone in the stillness of the night.
the salt air mingles with my thoughts
hope burns
a flicker caught in the tempest howl
distant as fires beyond the glass
a pleading prayer goes unanswered.
I gaze at
the world, so alive.....
filled with laughter and song.
joy drifts in like soft misty mist
but raw regret tugs at my heart.
snowflakes fall quietly.....
silence calls.
then Darkness Descends.
Draping the earth in it’s shadowy spell.
Dancing, Drumming, Devouring.
hope's last flicker Dies…..
echoes of a Dying breath
chaos reigns supreme.
I feel frozen
in this shattered world
where cracked glass bites into
my dreams.
I’m helpless.
I am a silent witness
to a dying light.
I find myself fractured like
just like the life
I let slip away.
I’m the voyeur of lost tomorrows.
their cost carved deep into
the marrow of my soul
a sentencing weight I’ll carry forever.
A songbird sings of morning glory,
twittering homage to Dawn's first light.
And ebony shadows fade to shade,
as they lose the protection of Night.
The sun rises from a scarlet shroud,
draping itself in a golden hue.
And climbing above Earth's eastern rim,
Sol paints the sky a robin egg blue.
Blood tints the clouds cotton candy pink,
as the heart of Night is pierced by Dawn.
And color is soon fully restored,
while dew sprinkles glitter on the lawn.
Butterflies and bumblebees awaken,
as a new day slowly fills with sound.
And Hope renews with every sunrise,
it's not lost; it's waiting to be found.
fabulous confab
concurring, conjoining, draping
significant rendezvous in tandem
coiled hearts
©2014Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Aug. 15, 2014
I’ve covered the mirrors in our house
With colored sheets, while choking on grief
Black, blue, and green, to my bewildered spouse
Who has wondered what has become of me
And why suddenly I’ve begun mourning
He thinks that I’m a reflection of him
So he doesn’t notice the wounds within
The marring of my spirit’s complexion
Permanent, from his reoccurring sins
That have shaped me into his perfection
My face is clear so you would never guess
That person staring back isn’t me
Mirrors can’t show underlying distress
Only the lie he wants others to see
Not the despair slowly growing, steeping
Don’t look bewildered at my draping sheets
If you look, the nude is there, underneath
Reflecting the lie that it has become
Prolonged exposure to fisting complete
Now mourning the death of someone it loved
5/8-5/9/12
For "Your Birthday Suit" Contest
An episode of birds hovers beneath
a marmalade moon , just for a while,
as cotton-clouds sweep
the brushed limbs of a sky ready
to cradle the cloaks draping avian settlers;
those who like us ascend on hammocks
of dreams windblown by heady seasons
gliding through embroidered spring, the livid
lust in summer, on to a pious psalm come autumn,
soon... opal stalagmites of winter:
how abrupt and immediate this leaving!
Here we are, beyond shadows tasting
the song of evening walks soaring with
Aurora’s mist vanishing into a world
where permanence of cycles returns and repeats
the refrains from humming rivers growing frail,
until buds explode into leafy twirls
sweeter than the scent of parsley
on a fresh daylight…. icy, spicy, tangy.
Birds tweet, to swivel back into ancestral nests
much like us... wandering then yearning to kindle
the fire and oil of sweet home. Somehow,
seasons change… but our children’s dwellings
and god ‘s grace do not.
............
1/28/2016
For Cyndi Mac Millan's Contest
FIVE PROOF: FREE VERSE
THAT SHOWS IT AIN'T NO PROSE
......................
Literary devices: Assonance, Alliteration,
Imagery, Mood, Synesthesia
When velvet night is soaked in dew
along bright rims of starlit thread,
prayers chime a tune in revue
away from hours of black and dread.
Along bright rims of starlit thread,
the fragrant winds blow chamomile,
away from hours of black and dread
to greet dawn’s flute with lambent feel.
The fragrant winds blow chamomile,
leaves draping the knolls in full hum,
to greet morn’s flute with lambent feel
as heart ripples while dusk succumbs.
Leaves draping the knolls in full hum
prayers chime a tune in revue,
as heart ripples while dusk succumbs
when velvet night is soaked in dew.
Gautami Phookan's Dabble in Poetry Forms
3/17/2014
Ashen black bricks,
all surround.
Nestled in the darkness,
Night's silent blackened crown.
She owes it all to the light,
the solitary glow.
Screaming out in protest,
draping mist in snow.
In absence of light,
of Sol, Sun, and sight,
nobody would know her,
nor call her "the night".