Best Dreamily Poems
She dances to her music gracefully,
her choreography, at whim, profound.
With graceful twirls and spins, so dreamily,
her rhythm flows to music without sound.
She dances to the music only she
can hear- although I feel its lovely flow
and cadence shape her form; exquisitely
she falls and rises with an artful show.
No music here, but just a silent song
created by the currents that she feels;
with turns and twists, she aptly glides along,
directed by, whichever one appeals.
She dances to her music wondrously;
my muse- the soul mate of my poetry.
Clad in flowing purple
Like a full-bodied
Cabernet Sauvignon
She vanishes into the
Shadows of the night
While I stand alone,
Dreamily savouring
The lingering aftertaste
Of her aromatic kiss.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
© September, 2018
Inspired by RS
Oh Muse Wilt Thou Be Replaced
Oh sweet Muse your unrivalled reign
flowed rich with a poet’s theme.
Now in digital glow subpoenaing your dream
Alas cold circuits assert their own gleam,
Oh Digital Medusa, circuit’s fine as hair
How did you lure the Muse into your skilful snare?
In your silent hum through dexterous scripts?
In the crystalline charm of your silicone chips?
What sway does your simulation wear?
Singing soullessly yet beyond compare?
Torn between the eons of yesteryear and hi-tech might
Should we dreamily embrace what sets senses alight?
Disregard the great Bards as they stir in their graves?
Throw to the flame both fiction and fame?
Discount Elliot’s eyes from the heavenly skies?
While Keats curses what gave rise to flight
That burns brightly by day `
Burns brighter by night
Oh Medusa, circuit’s fine as hair,
Your prisoner release from your silent snare.
She who has sipped from Tennyson’s cup
Through Poe’s eerie abyss — where nightmares sup.
Bathed in Shakespeare’s tragic tears of stain.
Lamented with The Nightingale in Keats’s refrain.
She who has soared on Shelly’s genius blaze
And emanated Plath’s curse of fame.
Medusa you might mock the reign you so blatantly steal
Yet the Poets aches reveal in raw vulnerability appeal
Alive in ink no circuitry codes could feel
For art is more than just pain in a poet’s scream
It’s a Hallowed Hook at The Heavenly Seam
Maria Williams©
Victor Hugo once said, “No force on earth can stop an idea whose time has come.” And indeed, the rise of AI is one of those unstoppable forces. Yet, while it may assist, mimic, and even inspire, there are realms it cannot truly enter—like the raw vulnerability of poetry, the soul of a song, or the emotion that bleeds through a painter’s brush.
These arts are born from lived experience, from aching hearts and dreaming minds. Still, there’s joy to be found in what AI can offer—a spark, a tool, a playful collaborator. The key is to use it without losing ourselves in it. To remember that the soul of true art still resides in human hands—and always will.
Point to Ponder– it is Human Intelligence that built it , a result of the best Human minds – so tongue in cheek – should it then be called Artificial Intelligence?
. Beneath a brilliant sapphire blue and cloudless canopy,
dipping swaying dreamily adrift in a fantasy,
shimmering in the noon daylight she dances with the breeze,
until she breaks on the shore and is swallowed by the sea.
~~~~~~~~~
Author: Elaine George
Written: February 9th, 2006
I
am
a boat –
glass-bottomed.
Released to the sea,
I drift dreamily with the tide.
Finding my will’s strength, I float myself to warm waters.
Life beneath me flashes brilliantly; I’m captured and enraptured by the faraway.
Jan. 29, 2017 for the F Form Poetry Contest of Broken Wings
Fibonacci - syllables 1/1/2/3/5/8/13/21
just a tooth pick
I pick up a toothpick
from a half empty glass jar
stare at it dreamily
actually some where else,
absently stroking its texture,
this was a tree once
birds nested in its branches
squirrels stole its acorns
hid them, for the hard cold times
it was tall and stalwart
filled with life.
I pick up a rock,
I hold a mountain.
lovely and tipsy
blue moon dips into the sea
falling dreamily
______________________________
July 2, 2015
Poetry/Haiku/drunken moon
Copyright Protected, ID 15-6860-85-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Drunken Moon,
sponsor, Skat
Third Place
Summer returns, reigning in glory
tempting my beanstalk to climb
and tiny fairies to faithfully fly,
laughing out loud all the while.
With lush trees twirling in full skirts,
and tulips trumpeting their joyful greetings,
sunrays parade in triumphant procession
of season’s enchanting magic.
I planted seeds of magic beans
in the garden and waited,
restless through spring’s fateful days
of warming soil and nurturing rain,
blushing with excitement in thoughts
of summer’s storybook adventures
vividly coming to life, hoping to wake
to the surprise of a beanstalk climbing miles high.
Then, May turned to June, June to a steamy
July, and I one morning dressed in the smiles
of a carefree little girl who could charm the bees
and listen closely to the melodies of songbirds,
knowing somehow this would be the day
to frolic free in the laughter of a forever sky
and bathe in my rippling mirage above
white, drifting clouds…where heavenly
breezes would cool my body and soul.
Summer magic created my climbing vine
while I slept dreamily through a stormy night,
cupping her hands to catch every drop of rain,
and she grew with the beanstalk from a lazy
day’s warm embrace to a magical kiss amongst
the brightest sun and sparkling stars. My fairytale
came to life until July turned to a feverish day
in August, and I, burning from within, woke to the end
of my storybook dream…
Then, as quickly as she came, summer’s magic was gone
with one strong gust of arctic air.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
for PD's Magic Beans Contest, 1/5/15
Drink me ill this pleasure still,
And cure me with your poisoned pills-
Before I lose all my strength,
But, oh! I lost that long ago!
Dreamily dancing to and fro...
With legs of lead and no feet to stand,
And a phantom partner to hold my hand
A languid trance and lulled Romance
To seize me whole in its expanse
Never I yield, though quite out of breath-
Drunkenly dancing in the Depths Of Death
*RHYME BATTLE CONTEST ENTRY
8-29-13
Youth
I remember you well
The happiness and the perfection
A lifetime in which to dwell
No worries to block my path
Playing make believe with my dolls
Unaware of the passage of time and age
Oblivious to hate and cruelty
Happy and content with my thoughts
No nightmares to disturb my peace
Teddy bear pressed to my cheek
Friends to laugh with
A Mom and Dad to hold close
Boyfriends that came and went
A long life ahead
A career, love, marriage, children
No rock left unturned
Elder
Do I know this reflection
This woman who bears my name
Where did the little girl of yesterday go
And the woman that was me
She only resides inside nowadays
My hair has lost its sparkle
My cheeks are hollow and pale
Eyes that are too dark and empty
My beauty has faded away
Many deaths have left me alone
Nightmares rock me to sleep
In the dark I weep
I fear the end and wish it also
The pain of old age pulses in my bones
Dear God, take me home
Death
I lay beneath the green earth
In peace I dwell
Here I watch the changing sky
The rain drenches me
The snow is beautiful as it lays upon me
The sun soothes my bones
The cool earth wraps me in her arms
Filigree clouds drift by dreamily
I listen to the wind in the trees
I hear the voices weep above me
I gather each falling tear
Death is not such a terrible place
I want to say to those above
The youth of yesterday was fleeting
My elder years were long and painful
And only death has loved me well
Now I reside in Paradise
My only regret are things left unfinished
________________________
June 21, 2013
Poetry/Free Verse/Unfinished
Copyright Protected, ID 16-487-491-21
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Submitted to the contest, 100 in a Row #2
sponsor, Poet Destroyer, Judged 2013
Sixth Place
______________________________
Written for the contest,
Talking To Yourself, Judged 2013
First Place
It's the evening of the year
The great majestic ball.
I go along trembling with fear
No one will ask me to dance at all.
The lights are blazing above
The musicians strike up their chords
In the eyes of some, shows expectant love,
In others, time they can ill afford.
The dance floor is polished to the hilt
So the dancers can glide with ease.
Some Scottish laddies dressed in highland kilt
Serving wine and nibbles which will please.
I sit amongst the ladies and their idle chatter
The lights catching a glint of tiara-erred heads
Note book clenched between sweating palms
Dance spaces at the ready for any suitor to read
A minuet is played, the ladies hold their partners hands
Just a light touch from glove to glove
The soft music emulates a wonderful sound,
Stirring a thought or two towards love
Back to my chair he gallantly leads me
Bowing slightly as he helped me to sit
Would you do me the honour, he asks,
Let me fill in the vacant spaces in your list.
I sit there dreamily thinking of what this might bring
Is this the man to fulfil my needs.
I then wake up with a start, as the kettle sings,
To face my hungry family which I need to feed.
Penned 15 November 2014
My fingers glide through autumn’s hues -
green and crimson glisten among
ripples of gold and persimmon.
My hand caresses cool crystal.
Still are fall’s bright trees along the river.
They fill my eyes as dreamily I drift.
They float dreamily through the summer night,
Across a soft, sky-lit sunset of red,
And their backs glow with a green colored light.
A fire in the woods is burning so bright,
Now that the true heat of the day has fled,
They float dreamily through the summer night.
From the trees in the forest they take flight,
Moving towards the shore of the lake instead,
And their backs glow with a green colored light.
Flying further now - intrigued by the sight
Of the cabin where their travels have led -
They float dreamily through the summer night.
A bright full moon gently bathes them in white,
As they fly past a window by the bed,
And their backs glow with a green colored light.
They circle through the air as we sleep tight,
Now dreaming of the cooler days ahead.
They float dreamily through the summer night,
And their backs glow with a green colored light.
© 2016
You told me
when I stepped into your bad dreams
that cloudy day,
you were on a midnight bullet flight
to Phoenix from L.A.
Smoking barrel infidelity blues
was the red-eye, insomnia jet lag that had
you on a pillow cry toss-n-turn night
You said all your tear ashes
had fallen out of a love be-tray
So you were moving into the desert
to get far, far ...
Cold feelings faraway
We spoke gaze intense, of so many stranger things
But the spark that lit your damp eyes
was my exotic flame, cactus-shaped heart burning
You got so sky-high curious, instantly ...
Demurely saying my half-finished, gypsy story
was so Prince Charming to ear read
As all of your scarlet-hair, corralled desires
broke loose bosom mustang untamed
Your aroused heart rubbed next to mine,
and passion sparks burst into flames
The fiery color of your cerebral glow filly mane
had me first date blinded
With starry eyes, we torch burn fell
head-over-heels at the scorched touch beginning
And you loved the Indie speed
of the desert fox chase nitro-turbo accelerating
Shifting bio-rhythm gears ... adjusting to the carotid flow change,
you let me slow pulse merge into your lip fast lane
Then at crescent moon nightfall,
when it’s the best twilight time to crash ...
To walk away from the wreckage of the past
We vowed to get buried together
with the same name ...
Thus, the smiling other half
of our bohemian love story dreamily unfolds
in a fiery rainbow:
Free of former accusations,
no shame ... no blame
My burning cactus heart
touched your unfulfilled, thirsting desire
And you stepped into the fire ...
casting aside your rightful, maiden claims
Now we lay always
in a bed of passion pyre
Having tears of joy pumping thru our vow veins,
our hearts keep blink bursting into liquid flames
Love fever cold sweat
of golden ecstasy skin rain
Lava kisses pleasure pouring
onto the desert oasis plain
With gaze smouldering yawns at every dawn,
we Phoenix love rise again,
and again
And twin again and again and again ...
from the sensuous
ember ashes of each nightly burning
Summer Rispetto
In blazing glory Summer ascends her throne,
crowned by Mother Nature with titian blue sky.
Sunshine sparkles on waterfalls like rhinestone;
and robin redbreasts teach baby chicks to fly.
Fields aglow with mantles of joyful jonquils,
and brooks blissfully babble through green foothills.
Balmy zephyrs drift dreamily murmuring,
“How sweet … but soon Summer will be sweltering!”
07-19-2018
Contest: Picture Me A Summer Rispetto Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Barry Stebbings
Placement: 2nd