Best Enrapturing Poems
Dear Quintain, how beautiful you are,
allowing us to paint the spacious sea or sky,
landscapes, or nights’ celestial bodies beckoning from afar.
Even when my quill is running dry,
with you along, my thoughts are sure to fly!
For all I need to do
is let you slip inside, then nestle in my brain.
The pattern of rhyme required by you
is not too difficult; here I will remain
content to write with you, dear Quintain.
Your English form, so lovely, does not ask
that we adhere to meter even though
I want to dance your lines as I bask
in your sweet simple charms, and lo!
My quill has filled; my lines now start to flow!
I’ll keep on going for two stanzas more
because I wish to sing
your praises! My mind is like a shore
upon which you are tumbling, glistening!
A sea of inspiration you bring.
Continue on - through poets - bringing words
that paint our world, entreating all to see
God’s gifts or to enjoy the singing birds,
taste clear mountain springs, and smell the salty sea.
Continue, dear Quintain, enrapturing me.
Written 8/17/2015 , this is English Quintain, which has rhyme scheme of ababb and the lines do not have to be consistent in syllable count
Love Was Sent, Treasure That Healed Two Crushed Hearts,
A Collaboration with Susan Ashley
Life shattered, soul crushed, another one has perished
once gone from this world was all she ever cherished
No amazing and joyful tales to tell the kids
just naked silence, from raging of black rapids
From heavens above, truest of gifts handed down
romance sent, from He that wears faith's eternal crown.
In that gloom and doom came our Spring's resplendent morn
Love, joyful sound of Living, thus we were reborn
Love, its Lights flamed, happiness needs no explaining
summer warmth came from darkness rapidly waning
O' what glory, shall your heart forever hold mine
our sweet blessing, came from angelic hands divine
Within nights, kisses that sated our hot desires
came oaths of eternal love that never expires.
In that gloom and doom came our Spring's resplendent morn
Love, joyful sound of Living, thus we were reborn
Our soaring passions’ pure as nightingale’s song
enrapturing seduction righted what was wrong
upon our heartstrings’ twilight music we did fly
as supernova lusts did unfurl ‘cross the sky -
scintillating stardust showered us with magic
our souls’ kissed in sparkling bliss since events tragic.
In that gloom and doom came our Spring's resplendent morn
Love, joyful sound of Living, thus we were reborn
Dreamy nectar - ripened wine, whetted revival
as I sipped upon your essence for survival
rousing the wild-honey luscious look in your eyes
behind ambrosial mist passionate beauty lies
on thirsty tongues of fire we burned ‘till morning’s light
melting past the pain in moonflower swirls of night
In that gloom and doom came our Spring's resplendent morn
Love, joyful sound of Living, thus we were reborn
Robert J. Lindley and Susan Ashley
(a collaboration), April 24, 2019
Poet’s note: My dear friend, it always a great honor for me to be able to collaborate with you and truly enjoy your inspirational verses! Such a blessing is to me a very precious gift you give me and my appreciation is sincere and honest in this my admiration for both your great friendship and your magnificent poetry talents!
Autumn
a chilling wave
crunching melancholy
nostalgic for summer warm heart
shrinking passions of deciduous souls
perennial strain for blending
raking over losses
as we behold
Autumn
Autumn
rebirth and growth
a carving golden Nature
mother earth to ripe souls gives birth
harmonious fall of mellow aura
a promise of blooming roses
the poets fascination
enrapturing
Autumn
October 10th, 2018
(A Double Rictameter)
"I dreamt, I was a butterfly or was I,
a butterfly dreaming . . ."
But I was only the cocoon grub,
attached to a ceiling,
So I hung there thoughts of enrapturing,
fascinating, the meaning,
But I was still a sordid bug,
unloved a heart for stealing,
Outside was a Billabong, (Aussie water hole)
enchanting was the feeling,
I jerked the zip and let me rip,
away from the cocoon,
delightful slip an swerve,
with constant wheeling
I had bloody wings an things,
entrancing was the moon,
Don Johnson 8-july-11
Poet Destroyer ~ A
Contest Name any old butterfly poem....
Taking a walk by the lovely lake
under the canopy of the sunlight
watching its effect on the water
makes one wish never-ending night
With your loved one hand in hand
thinking only of one’s deep affection
wishing never to let go of your grip
feeling assured this is a pure connection
The night's atmosphere so haunting
making each one’s love to inspire
stillness is so totally enrapturing
a moment you never want to tire
Consider well this providential act
that brought us both to be as one
stand amazed this all happened
by a divine hand, this has done
This is a wonder one has to behold
love fully pictured by this late walk
love so beautifully meant to share
memories that a kiss could not block
(walking hand in hand!)
My mind is like a dangerous neighborhood
I try to never go there alone.
I thought that after all this time Id finally grown.
I met a spark that kindled my fire
How quickly it expired.
Enrapturing me in my sleep.
It burned so deep
It burned so deep.
Whispers of wonders invading my perception
Turns out it was self-deception.
I longed to continue in this delusion
But in the end it would be spiritual pollution.
How do I mend what I have done?
The separation has begun,
But the face of an angel lingers in my brain
I never meant to cause any pain.
If I could jump out of my skin and start again
Wisdom would have kept him as a friend..
If only he could have come to my side
Happily we would forever abide.
But reality is a dark hole
And a bleeding soul
A vacant hole
Where many travelers never go.
Once again its chill creeps down my spine
And I release the one I had to leave behind.
By: Sabina Nicole
You capture me tightly, like a trance,
enrapturing me, from very first glance,
excuse me, may I have this dance?
And who knows? Maybe a chance,
it could all end in sweet romance?!
Holding your hand, on strolls through the coast,
one pleasure to treasure, I'd enjoy the most,
Life dreams into you, as if by remote,
whilst I've got these words stuck in my throat,
screaming for you, higher than thermals, these babies float.
You centre me towards my zone,
to capture each word, make it my own,
farming seeds of thought re-grown,
Our intimate workings, each are knowing,
ensures raging rivers of lust are flowing,
it's either cumming or it's going,
all the same, ecstacies throeing,
you can't beat the embrace, at the climax of the race with silly smiles upon our face!
The feel of your skin, to inhale your aroma deep within,
like an oasis in my deserted life so far,
freeing emotions like open a jar,
you make me feel like a shooting star,
come to me, wherever you are,
fragments of reality, we each hold a piece,
come to me my darling, lets share a kiss! XX
©John-Ovan.P.Hull
The other day
as I turned the corner
onto my quiet street
I saw a woman so perfect
she snatched my breath away
as she waited to cross the road.
It was like seeing a movie star
or a beauty queen up close--
my heart ached a bit, I confess,
when I thought, once, a long,
long time ago, I just might
have had a chance....
But now I'm just an old man
driving an old car to an old house.
I drove slowly and could see
her gracefully crossing the street
in my rear-view mirror, much
like a dream fading quickly away...
suddenly, from somewhere far
beyond my mind, I realized
the truth of what I saw: that
it was all stupid illusion--
she was young and beautiful,
I, old and lame, but those were
just markers on the wheel of time.
The wheel would turn,
my body would die, hers would age,
no longer enrapturing men: in a way,
she was already an old woman which
I could not see, nor could I see the
sweet child still playing within her.
When there are no more days left,
our souls will be free of the Wheel
and all the world's illusions will
seem as distant, fading dreams....
IN PRAISE OF BEAUTY
O beauty allure, beauty of the hyacinth
Doused by wailing drops of dew shroud
And pierced by the radiant shaft of heaven,
Through the rituals of purity
To tread the virginal soil of Venus.
O like the scenery
Of the splendid garden of Aphrodite,
With Pageantry, the art of Pothos and Himeros,
The pearly dross most sought after
Like a wand that spelled all the eyes of men.
Dazzling aurorae shimmering in deep shadows;
Figure beholding the twinkling crown, Andromeda.
Sunrise awaking the greenery;
Ascending furrowed amber terrain of
The gloaming by the countryside!
Habendum et tenedum!
Before the lily white altar an avowal
Of chastity and tranquility enshrined;
On a feather-quilted bed day and night
With love elixir soothing the body and the soul!
Soul melody in the diatonic harmony of
Meshed contralto with resonating baritone.
Swell the homophonic rhythm of Azande
As the pitch from my lips wears and declines
And the tempo of my heart increases!
Scented lavender wafting through the subtle air;
An aromatic morning of rose bathed with dew
That transports the mind beyond the earthly realm
And captures the heart at whim
Lost in the imagination of the form and frame.
Culinary variety spread in a romantic atmosphere
In candlelight banquet of cream and crimson;
Sheer delicacy, man’s greatest savour
Whose delights subsist even in her absence;
Whose substance transcends life’s ideal.
O beauty, within my heart dwells, enrapturing neurons
Let no worldly cataract becloud your glory
Through my eyes of mine, forever!
"Glossolalia"
I closed the external noise out,
and upon entry to that strange place
the colour of Love,
silence broke the heart open
like trumpets penetrate the heavens
revelations were opening in my mind,
and the invisible surrounding me
emerged visible making their presence
fully and clearly known,
and their whispers became beautiful very loud songs,
and glossolalia tripped off those strange messengers’ tongues
like poets, to me, they spoke and sung
another language, entirely foreign
yet totally understood,
and It and They, lifted myself higher,
and all those strange spirits
surrounding me rose en masse
like an ocean wave overcomes
and carries unprepared swimmers
back into a distant shore, drenched,
and like a child frolics in the ocean,
I was not afraid to turn around,
and swim out deeper, wanting more;
like a magnet their tides danced around me
and pulled me in and along with them,
emerging from the mist of the colour of that place
bathed in synethesia from the auras, of all,
such astonishment, the heart was crying with joy,
the strange sensation of tasting the scent of feeling
in all the beautiful glaringly loud colours of that place,
like an infant born again, pushing its way out
into something odd, a new world, emerging novel,
unhackneyed original shining piercing light
from the body like an orb that cracked open
the old darkness and drew in the new creation,
the Light glowing like armour naked untouchable, merkabah,
yet touching and reaching, ascending higher plains
with divine Xenoglossy beings, We are, paranormal phenomena
now sometimes seen as pareidolia in the clouds
writing, singing, speaking supernature to the ordinary natural,
understanding all, not just one over the other, we understand All
The Xenolalia singing Glossolalia
enrapturing all, on their way home
Candide Diderot. ‘24
Her love spells
Lashings Obsessed with Virile Endurance
Her eyes
Engulf You in Elegant Seduction
Her lips
Love Infused Passion Sweet
Her body
Beautiful Offering of Divine Yearning
Her wants
Warring Affection Nuclear Towards Satisfaction
Her needs
Nurturing Embrace Enrapturing Desire's Surge
Her dreams
Dangerous Romance Entering Another Midnight's Sacrafice
Her mind
Magic Intent on Nude Destination
Her soul
Savage Optimism Unafraid of Losing
My heart
Heated Enlightenment Affixed to Rare Touch
J.A.B.
I dreamt, I was a butterfly or was I, a butterfly dreaming . . .
Peacefully detained by a delightful young gent,
Lying in green mead where buttercups were beaming;
Releasing an enchanting aromatic scent.
Peacefully detained by a delightful young gent,
His fascinating smile lured me in my slow stride,
Releasing an enchanting aromatic scent;
Where enrapturing view overtook me inside.
His fascinating smile lured me in my slow stride,
Entrancing flitter hypnotized to restful sleep,
Where enrapturing view overtook me inside;
When into my captivating dream he did seep.
Entrancing flitter hypnotized to restful sleep,
There he envisioned I was his true love to be,
When into my captivating dream he did seep;
Making a woman without wings to set me free.
There he envisioned I was his true love to be,
Lying in green mead where buttercups were beaming,
Making a woman without wings to set me free;
I dreamt, I was a butterfly or was I, a butterfly dreaming . . .
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
July 9, 2011
Third Place Winner ~ "Daydreams and dreams and dreams” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France~ A Rambling Poet
Aug. 5, 2011
Harsh cold breaths blowing gale force pounding drum bold
to the lightning striking blue diamond against ice freezing cold
Enrapturing a dark ebony satin night sky white silk cream velvet clouds
as the snow capped mountain lights up in a silver mist gleaming sparkles
One chain running a flood down the face as clouds of heaven open gates
lashing downpours of heavy pelting rain mixed with hail driven like bullets
Harshly outside roaring thunderstorms waves of air tossing this ship asleep
crying waves of voices through the breeze howling out rocking
Bending blows bowing down and asking for mercy the trees cry out moaning
spirits of the wind branches getting tore from the limbs standing to defense
Turf upon the fire rising white smoke signals it's warm here love
on this lonely cold winters night smiling faraway kisses a dream
Charming within deep loving warmth shipwrecked alone
crying howls into a cold full face moon entranced beautiful
Didn't you not go to me?
How did I seethe, because an elongation of an entanglement is the alter-alto as the Omega cake..?
So swimmingly
I'm finishing the date,
I'm even allowed to procreate,
say that today as we all wander in the phase,
the glistening light is a connector of the ways...
48 equations away...
One more long lasting stay,
I am trapping the animals and characterizing,
you upped the anti with troubling enrapturing!
You even trampled the past in THE!!!
Sometimes I sweat over the gloat and the capturing,
sometimes I'm the boat that is rafting the very temperament I haven't opportunely been the camp in the.
While reading the delightful novels of *Maugham
My mind drifted to the enchanting streets of Paris.
Teaching the plays of Moliere, my *roamings started
Over entrancing *National theatre of Paris, or the Globe
Next day reading aloud the poem “My luv was like a red…”
The captivating poem of the bard Robert Burns of *Eyre
Shifting to Dublin to feel the romance of *the Abbey
And the play School for Scandal of Richard Sheridan.
There are patterns and patterns of fascinating dreams
And I knew creativity and genius don’t come from patterns
Like Mark Twain I had no unpleasant or stressful situations
As is said daydreaming or dreams deride non-productive pastime
But can be constructive in some contexts of fine arts or science
Proved to be a enrapturing realities in the later years of my life
Visiting all the dreamed-of-places of my day-dreaming raptures.
But still daydreaming has not left me as I have still dreams of
Visiting the entrancing lands of Anna Karenina and *Nora Helmer.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Six place win
Contest: Any Poem Goes
* The Roamings is the title of my book published in 2001
* Somerset Maugham, the great novelist
*National Theatre of Paris where Moliere acted and wrote.
*Eyre the birth place of Burns I visited in 1989
*The Abbey in Ireland as famous as The Globe of London
*Mark Twain has written about a tragic incident while daydreaming.