Best Engagement Poems
I have the rhythm of a winding road
how do I consign myself to being confined...
rows of poplar pillars prop
the rendezvous canopy beneath we meet
—I self-cajole on ooh-la-la afternoon
yellow eyes; daffodils watching
lean into gossip groups nodding
a prodding breeze instigating deep-freeze—
I am a sweet weed in this place of sway and betray
with a stranger I stroll my arranged betrothed
height of his black top hat challenges trees
much like Corinthian columns
guards of an aisle I must walk —dear God! must walk
trepidation trips down my bridal spinal column
tiger eyes; lilies watching wish they were me
dare they dream they could uproot their roots like me
wish they could wedding waltz like I must —like I must
but their envy-leaves remain embrace-less
—I envy lilies’ empty arms of yet unmet love
daffodils; empty-headed —laugh
they try to read my mind to fill their own
what do I care their curdled thoughts lemon tart
and orange lilies’ brocade brimstone
what do I fear of fire-breathers burn of words
undergrowth feels square heels of my lace-up boots
post impression grows more expressive than first—
beware French tongues of sundew and burdock burr
marriage-carriage rolls in ruts to Versailles
where my coerced corset of hooks and ties lie
rhythm of a winding road dies in minuet strangle-hold
Many a year so far
a sweet sensation would within surge
as back to school season
has just begun..
The feelings of a child
eager and joyful
to pile notebooks, pencils and pens
excited to have them all in a schoolbag..
Even as a teacher
that sweet habit, that unique joy
got wild much more!
a deep conception
that a smile, a word
could change a world
a strong conviction
that teaching is a vocation
a mind trained to train
a heart able to see and comprehend
confused faces
gazing at you
seeking the secret of success!
day dreamers, untamed teens
aspiring to reach and own
the treasure within..
Many a year by this time
soul and whole
I would wonder
what would I utter
of words
willing to sow the seeds of passion
in virgin lands
to instill a love of learning
a deep sensitivity
to guide to goals
to cultivate creativity..
What would I teach of lessons
use of methods
to inspire young souls
and their imagination kindle!
Now I’m back to school
with a load on the heart
a sense of culpability
torn about what I should
and must do..
The world of teaching
a hallmark of my identity
leaving that part of me
a possibility
even a necessity..
My heart aches for the realm of poetry
the power of words
that translate my innermost emotions and reflections
their magic
that transcends what is ordinary..
I have a longing for
a sense of belonging to
the world of words
I am an avid reader and learner
with a passion for creative writing
and leaving a world
would not mean
ceasing to be..
Sometimes I feel lost and unappreciated
I ponder why I am here?
Sometimes I look for approval from
others.
I want someone to give me a pat on
the back saying everything will be ok.
Life can be a struggle and so terribly
hard.
What you do?
Allow yourself to mistakes and learn from
them. Let those mistakes become your
victories.
We all ponder why we're here sometimes. I think
that's normal. But when I'm bombarded with those
thoughts and questions, I remember what I know:
I'm a daughter, a mother, and a sister and etc. It
humbles me to be the best daughter, mom, sister
that I can be. It may take a lifetime to get an
A HA moment to realize why we're here and what our
purpose is, in the meantime be optimistic and do
what you know! And finally pat your own self on the
back and be your own number 1 fan and cheerleader.
When no-one is around your “inner” approval will see
you through and it will get you through life's ups downs.
3-11-19
Alexis Y.
If Gratitude were enough,
I’d fill the oceans with mine for having you
If laughter were enough,
I’d make you laugh till your last breath,
Just so I can hear that beautiful sound for eternity
If dancing was enough,
I’d waltz and foxtrot with you till your feet hurt
If tenderness was enough,
I’d then spend the rest of the day massaging those feet
Just so I can take the aching away
If life were enough,
I’d trade mine for yours in a heartbeat
Just so you can live to fulfil all your heart’s desires,
As all I want for you is your never-ending joy,
Your gentleness, coyness, kindness
And if love were enough,
I’d love you in and out of time,
As I love you from this day onwards,
I will love you beyond my final breath
I LOVE YOU…
I met her in a pawn shop on a warm summer night
When running from the rubble of my shattered life
To sell a broken dream that would never come true
An engagement ring to pay for the rent that was due
There she lay sleeping in a battered rosewood bed
Heart strings breaking in a rusty sea of velvet red
So hauntingly beautiful, she took my breath away
Violin - an old reject who would change my life that day
So I bought Violin and lived out on the street
And played Rhapsody in Blue as coins fell at my feet
And soon we had a little flat high above the Bay
And every day, I got better with every note I played
Today I am a maestro playing Carnegie Hall
My name in lights blinking on a Marquee Wall
For it was I who saw myself in Violin
A tarnished soul and the beauty buried there within
Author: Elaine George
Written: 2013
Roll back the joy of golden, painted years.
Hold me in that rapture, of joyful cascading tears.
Place the engagement ring on my soft hand.
Allow me to hear the notes of passion’s band.
Oh, how deeply in love in the City by the Bay we were!
Then~abruptly dismissed by Cupid’s, stinging, sharp spur!
That glorious moment though, outlives the painful march of time.
When I was wholly yours, on love’s, long, enchanting, cascading vine!
8/27/2022
~1~
~~Move the Clouds~
(A Reason for Rainbows)
When you left, you took my heart!
It was midnight.
You darted out of the house into
that midnight Spring moonlight,
with but two sentences.
I stood there weeping, with my tears
falling on my starlit engagement ring.
Like a fool, I believed what you said.
You bag of arrogant wind!
I seriously thought of suicide
each day for months.
I went into therapy, too
But God had much bigger plans
for me.
He placed a beautiful man in my life,
who never hurt me or caused strife.
I became the Mother of a
beautiful girl, an outstanding
grandson and a totally transformed life.
I don't let people's outrageous
evaluations of me cause me
pain.
Others judgements are what
they are, their judgements!
They are not me.
I learned to soar like the white
sea gulls above the Pacific.
So astonishingly high above
San Francisco Bay!
Whenever, I chose~night or day.
And be totally me, me, me.
Now and forever.
Free ,free, free!
Of others' arrogance and
grandiose superiority.
~~~~~
June 2, 2019
3am PST
She was beautiful within and without,
He was handsome, there was no doubt,
Engaged to be married, they were in love,
He knew she was pure like a dove,
A shocking news - she was found carrying,
A public shame - 'twas worrying,
What could he do? He would put her away,
Silently without much delay,
That night, while he thought on these things, behold,
An angel of the Lord, he told,
"Joseph, thou son of David, do not fear
To take Mary as thy wife dear"
"What she's conceived is of the Holy Ghost,
She'll give birth to a son foremost,
Jesus will save the people from their sins",
Virgin birth fulfilment begins,
Joseph, the just man, rose up from his sleep,
He his wife decided to keep,
He did as the angel had bidden him,
They married, life was no more dim.
07.29.2020
N/A in Strand Completely New (15), any form, any theme contest
This once was an empty hope chest,
All my wishes it was waiting to hold,
Now it keeps the things I love best,
As my life begins to unfold.
A hope chest holds things from the past,
It locks away secrets of when we wept,
And poems written to make memories last,
In my Mom's diary of thoughts she kept.
A porcelain doll, of which I was very fond,
My Grandma made her, with care and grace,
She had long hair, curly, blonde,
And a blue dress trimmed in white lace.
My hope chest holds everything I love,
Like old photographs that are looking worn,
And the wishes that I've dreamt of,
Ever since the day I was born.
My hope chest may hold new things,
Like a Valentine my first love sent me,
Maybe, eventually an engagement ring,
And the rose that won him my heart's key.
If there is a newborn on the way,
My hope chest will hold many things,
Like maybe, a baby blanket, someday,
A reminder of what life can bring.
To Work In A Hospice Just Be There and Care.
Bring yourself, It's all that you have and it's real,
Everyone needs to be understood and to feel.
Treat others in the way you want to be,
Hear what's unspoken, listen for the key.
Encourage folk to say what they need,
Remember your limits , try not to exceed.
Every time you give, someone receives.
Allow yourself feelings, You are not perfect,
Never share outside except with the staff elect,
Dying is a lonely journey, let your care be your gift.
Care and love, let yours show,
Anxieties of your own, just let the staff know.
Recall happy memories, folk like that a lot,
Empathy's good but sympathy's not.
A way to remember the rules of engagement in The Hospice.
© Dave Timperley. October 30th 2014
When held in your arms
I'm crowned by your love
I know I am now safe
Your warmth empowers my inner soul
as I'm wrapped in your sweet embrace
You've inspired me to reach ever higher
as we launch into our new beginning
No storm or perils will break our meld
It's a partnership, not a confinement
respect, love and trust are intertwined
It's in your devoted love that I'm freed
Free to live, love and share life with you
Together we'll paint the world more glorious!
Written for my son and his fiance'
to be married Sept. 2016 - They are both artists
Photo: Foganddawnphotography
Oh, yes, Darling! Please meet me up the street, in fifteen minutes, right past the old tan house with that porch, bamboo.
We need to talk about things, you and me, without your mean relatives, and that includes your cousin Ted Stew.
I’d gladly trade this car for a completely untarnished marriage certificate, cleaned out of the day-old flu.
But, fiance’, dearest, you have yet to show me your love nest, your side honey, or your super-secret tattoo,
So now that you realize I might cost you money, you love me forever, and think you can let go and forget the Queen of Vooody-Voo- Doo?
Sure, Sweet Darling. Being pre reasonable, I would certainly like to review our marriageable status, and begin trusting you anew.
Of course, we had better hurry, so we get this trust thing sorted, and my family decides to re-include you,
I do not think any love-you-forever ceremony, fancy hall, or wedding vows I will seriously pursue.
If you decide to take the challenge, there on the steps wearing their juiciest smiles, are my mother, Grandma Kell and cousin Lou.
Sure, they do all have guns, permits, frying pans, and razors. Confidentially, they’re in a hum dinger of a stew about you too.
What more can I do, Sugar Bear? I’ve led you right to them, right up these pretty blue and white steps, and frankly, honey, it’s the best thing I could ever do.
So saying, I guess all my relatives are ready to talk and slap and pinch and punch, and fight and scrap, and kick, because they’re sort of mad you made me so blue.
Bye, Sweetie. I’m off for the weekend with my new honey, Rick, a gentle, kind, God-fearing man, who doesn’t want to stick around to see what they’re going to do.
Bent fingers trace embroidered leaves
on satin and long lacy sleeves.
Blush roses, twenty-six she counts--
A French word she can't now pronounce.
She blows dust from old envelopes
tied with blue ribbons and her hopes.
The letters penned by her true mate.
Over his name, she... hesitates.
A trunk in attic soon became
her refuge from days all the same.
Photos dwelling midst her daydreams,
and keepsakes of sweet seventeen.
She thought he'd walk up Dusty Lane;
he might appear, along with rain
and wash away her endless tears;
bring summer nights and happy years.
A wedding date that came and passed;
memories cut like broken glass.
A heartache like the roaring wind,
returning nightly without end.
She lived alone among the ghosts
of dances, laughter, champagne toasts.
Altho eccentric, she was bright;
looked forward to impending night.
Aunt Agnes passed at ninety-three;
still wore her ring for all to see.
Memories left for wind to tend;
they have beginnings but no end.
not a dim voice in the back of your head
not wisdom and words from those who are dead
not just some long forgotten equation
not a bandage over an abrasion
not a blessing bestowed on the masses
not sweet talk meant for much sweeter lasses
not idle chatter in small sleepy towns
not the sounds of footsteps making their rounds
not thunder and lightning rolling on high
not the sound of a small child asking why
random unhurried changing arrangements
the constant flow of human engagements
momentary matters none of which last
all become echoes of that which is past
Step by step
Flirt by flirt
Dance by dance
The sky advanced
Slant and twirl
In eye curl
Wild sea gull
Desire glanced
Sailing ships
Blossoming lips
Freedom fission
Moments danced
Smile by smile
Conquering miles
Into the Nile
I’m entranced
_______________________________
8/12/2016