Best Entrap Poems
"Up at dawn, the dewy freshness of the hour, the morning rapture of the birds, the daily miracle of sunrise, set her heart in tune, and gave her Nature's most healing balm." ~ Louisa May Alcott
Dawn's light awakens me from sleep,
as morning light unfurls.
On the skyline I see it sweep
across meadows of grazing sheep.
Dewdrops hang like fine strands of pearls
on webs of silken whorls.
Like tears, they fell in waning night
as if the sky was grieved,
but in amber rays of daylight
I clearly see the dewy sight
of moisture, to which leaves have cleaved...
their thirst has been relieved.
Lush, the grass when it drank its fill
from Nature's water tap.
My garden is happy to swill
morning mist when the air is chill.
Petals fold to better entrap
drops for flowers to lap.
Prismed by the sun's reflection,
each pearl soon disappears,
dried by Ra's heated subjection.
There will be a new collection
when in the morning there appears
dew that's been shed as tears.
Original Date of Posting ~ June 18, 2022
Dewdrops Contest
This Challenge ~ December 3, 2022
Writing Challenge - X'd Poems Second Chance Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Streaks of anguish like drooping trees
Entrap pale hours across nightscape ,
Then crushing low upon my feet
Each leaf's motion reflects one bid
In neutral shades when moon withdraws--
That all around, on pine and lake,
My flame of hope enkindles breath
To glint beyond November's chill,
Awaiting a young son's return
From war-torn grounds cold as hoarfrost:
Till leaves form a halo , renewed
Adorning yard its lambent sheen,
Through colored tints which now imbue
A promise blest, of new life's course!
Hope, Old or New Poetry Contest
For Carolyn Devonshire 1/07/2019
~ New Entry
Colorful flowers and spaghetti straps
And my flabby arms from seams overlap
But the sundress still beckons
It’s diet time, I reckon
Girdle needed, my tummy to entrap
Seeking new ways for calories to burn
To wear that sundress, I’ll let famine churn
Want to look provocative
Avoid stares accusative
Hunger overwhelms, for ice cream I yearn
Sign up for Biggest Loser on TV
So Jillian Michaels can torture me
Pushing boulders up steep hills
To accentuate the frills
Of a small sundress designed for Twiggy
Jillian cracks the whip with no remorse
I drag tired bones through the exercise course
Now slim, I sleep peacefully
Blessed with deep serenity
While friends say, “She makes a beautiful corpse.”
*Entry for “The Sundress,” a contest sponsored by Constance La France ~A
Rambling Poet~
by Carolyn Devonshire
2009 and the expenses scandal
Made Gordon Brown, the Prime Minister, lament
So John Bercow, was appointed new ‘Speaker’
To be ‘The Commons’ new broom, was his intent
But he was faced, with an unlikely challenge
In his efforts to clean up ‘the house’
For running loose, in his official residence
Was a small, grey, furry, wily mouse
‘The Speaker’s’ efforts to entrap his visitor
All failed, with equal measure
So Sally, his wife, used her ‘Twitter’ account
To seek help on catching the creature
“Eeek, we have a mouse!” she did post
“And under the dish washer it’s run,
It’s Sunday, and the ‘mouse-catcher’s’ day off
Can someone tell me – what can be done?”
“My husband’s been ever so manly
But all of his efforts have failed,
Please can someone come up with a plan
To put this small rodent in jail?”
Suggestions came from near and far,
But all of them failed to succeed
The mouse still evaded the Bercow’s grasp
This led Labour MP, Gordon Prentice, to plead
To ‘The Commons’, “Why not have a resident cat
To rid ‘The House’ of the mouse population?”
But the members said, “No – that’s inhumane
We prefer control over eradication
This ‘House’ has stood for centuries, and,
There’s always been a problem with mice
But to bring in a cat, to kill them all
Well, the voters wouldn’t consider that, nice!
That’s why Parliament employs the ‘mouse-catcher’
To monitor and control the pests
So, until he can catch the Bercow’s mouse,
They’ll just have to live with their uninvited guest!”
The butterflies in my soul
They ignite my eyes.
I'm breathless
Yet I feel so alive.
The scorching embers, oh how they burn
But yet they feel so polite,
As if a searing reminder
That I'll be alright.
I couldn't resist the fiery urge
As I left this, ice cold world..
The hot coals became my host
And lava errupted through my veins.
I just couldn't quit gazing
At the flickering flames..
The last piece of me, to decay, was my hand
Oh how I forgot, how my fingers could bend
I thought as I was waving myself goodbye
To ever being human again
Ashes, ashes, were all I could see
As I saw myself falling
And as I really listened
I could still hear my heart calling
Becoming a faint echo
Confined to the shadows of my flames
Banished, never to be re-kindled again
Don't come to close
Or we shall ignite, dear human
I would combust and I'd eat you alive.
Be aware, you must know
That I, well..
I'm a devouring inferno.
My heat reddens your face
While the reflection of my ashes
Dance like a wildfire in your eyes.
The temptation leaves your thoughts up in smoke,
But you kept coming closer
I, flaring up with every word you spoke.
Come closer, closer..
I let my flames spew.
What happened to me
Is why I'd like to set the fire to you
How the flames burn brighter
With not one, but two..
Your blood is heating up, come closer
Enticing you in burning red
I will light the fire inside your head
And I wouldn't even need to dig your grave
You could choose to entrap
Yourself with me
And be forever ablazed
Ashes dancing in the fire pit
Comforting you with their warm glow
But trust me it's an abyss
In which you wouldn't dare, want to go.
Fellow lost soul, like I
We've wandered there before
Now forever to entice, just one more
Come closer..
The shadow calls out a warning heed
Beware all, beware indeed
One flair, two flair
You must look away!
Don't hold a gaze
Into the burning dead flames.
Interesting,
was the man staring
at the painting with such enthrallment.
I went and stood beside him, curious,
he was attractive and very appealing,
and when he looked at me- I gave him my
best come-hither look.
oh, his voice was captivating . . .
I wanted to say something interesting,
something very thought-provoking,
to entrap him in my allurement,
but I just said hello,
I was riveted to him- intrigued.
Interesting,
he smiled, amused
then said, the painting was spellbinding.
Oh, so charming and fascinating, he was,
I tried to appear beguiling-
hoping he would take note of my beauty.
He invited me for café,
we had charisma, for sure,
our conversation was absorbing-
He was so interesting and engrossing,
and I was compelled to touch his hand . . .
Oh, when did I become a seducer?
The thirst, lust and desire,
was tantalizing and tempting-
Interesting.
_________________________________
September 22, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Interesting
Copyright Protected, ID 16-831-873-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Interesting
sponsor, John Lawless
First Place
She is an unsung, unaware, unbridled, unsuspecting scene, deep in the woods, lost in time.
Not ventured into by hunter, or explorer for nigh onto thirty years, full of undisturbed cobwebs,
Large, and beautiful, intricately built by joyful diligent spiders, who have orchestrated them as delicately
As a maestro, taking their sweet time, using inner knowledge to enthral and entrap their prey.
Birdsong lullabies rarely glide through this forest, but the hoot of an owl can be heard nightly.
Wolves, skunk, fox, and beaver, do not notice the owl any more, focused on scavenging and hunting.
Raccoon and opossum scurry in the underbrush, hesitating only when encountering anything strange.
The mirrored pond, where animals gather, but only with their own kind, is the focus of the night.
Opalescent reflections of moonbeam light her, a beautiful contrast to the shadow dreams of the trees.
Mother Nature’s tapestry at her best, she will instantly enchant anyone brave enough to venture near.
Her affinity with twilight spirit, and her joy of being undisturbed, and undeveloped, keeps her safe.
She gathers her sleeping menagerie to her breast, watching them sleep, unsung protective mother forest.
Must you torment me, you sultry vixen,
Beguile me with the ling’ring lust of more
Hold me quiv’ring within your heated grasp
Entrap me with the distance of your shore
Please touch gently the paleness of my need
Infuse your torrid breeze with flowered balm
Awakening a fullness, bursting forth
To join you in your solemn summer Psalm
Thus, sing sweet nature’s ever-welcome song
Dark ravens ‘mid the timpani of corn
Watch as the buzzing bees complete their chores
Fear not the roses beauty, nor it’s thorn
So come you sultry sunrise, make my day
Your rolling fields will soon be winter’s hay
©7/13/2023
Footsteps of Midnight
Sealed in a cave
No beginning - no end,
No dawn – no dusk,
No sunrise – no sunset,-
Only the constant echoing footsteps of midnight,
Pursued – haunted -
Pushing the soul closer to the fine edge
Of madness swirling in a yawning abyss;
Icy terror rises up in streams of numbing vapors
With silent fingers ready to entrap
Any soul wandering too near this
Silent death,
Rumbling with satisfaction
At yet another soul held captive -
Deliciously drawing away
All life
Till eyes only stare into nothingness
Never finding satisfaction,
Never enough
To fill the rumbling hunger;
The soul staggers,
Bound up in hopeless whispers,
Unable to scream,
Unable to stand beneath the weight
Of narrowing passages,
Crushing air
From struggling lungs
Pulling in winter’s breath,
Freezing the soul from the inside out,
And even tears that once beckoned
Soothing relief
Look away
Despairing;
Hands reach out - one last frantic search -
Falling into hopelessness
To hear wild demons sneering –
Victors standing over vanquished –
Laughing
Until the echoes shred the very marrow of the soul;
No hope!
No hope for life!
Their screaming bounces off the walls;
Fingers tremble,
Stretching out
For any comfort, any warmth,
Discovering what eyes search
To believe
In annunciation –
A single ray of light,
Shattering the blackness,
Crushing the demons
And their laughter
While gentle arms caress the soul
Now reconciled,
Binding wounds
Where wounds bleed no more;
Night bound eyes see again
The precious face of love.
Dare ye! Dare ye!
Dare ye unlock the tomb
release the musty words of fear
unleash the vitriol of anger
upon the rusted lockset
Freedom does not free one
from the mind’s dungeon
nor sweeten the stench
of clutched bitterness
Dare ye step away
deny the bindings power
to entrap us as we flee
the burden of being free
Scars are not the price we pay
only reminders of its sting
scabbed testament to a will
that would not bend
Dare ye breathe
the breath of who we are
leave behind the shadow
of what we had become
Shed tears that cleanse
blurred opaque vision
smile through the pain
of joy’s remembrance?
©John G. Lawless
4/5/2017
“Every wall that would entrap me has a door that would free me. And I languish because the fear of freedom often leaves me preferring the familiarity of the wall.” Craig D. Lounsbrough
I'm languishing in self-pity
My cat is lost in the city
Grieving for my itty bitty
Missing kitty Missing kitty
Again, I find myself alone
Nobody calls me on the phone
Weeping for loved ones I have known
Fate, I bemoan Fate, I bemoan
A poet languishes each time
He seems to be bereft of rhyme
Unable to write poems, sublime
It is a crime It is a crime
Artists languish in mortal fear
that their paintings will bring a tear
Like Van Gogh who lobbed off an ear
End of career End of career
Who has not languished in despair
pining over things hard to bear
Anguish reveals how much we care
Heartache beware Heartache beware
Yes you can, yes you must, there is a story to be finish, and it will not come from
no ordinary man. We all must trust, in whom creat the one call Adam from the
grain of sand. Long-long ago as the story unfolds, and this creator, He creates
life and maketh the bird's sing. "You can be Inspired", he cause the sun to shine
and give us all that we desire. But the church - that's not on fire (for the Lord) burns
disstinctivily for the vile's of satanic impuritie's that has rape our children's de-
sire to get to know the true source, they become limited to a relationship from
much higher. You can be Inspired, inspire to know the truth will always reveal
itself in the end.
Yes you can, yes you must, never give up because life is tough. No where's is it
written that his return to this paquan world is known to noone. Then I can not run
and protect my might, his return is kept only to himself. "Because he comes like
a thief in the night". Drug's use to entrap me, depression kept my mind on the un
focust transformation that I will never find the light within the fire. "But the devil is
a lier". And even in Poetry, were there is an attempt to enhance the mind to read
beyond the words one must admire. Issue's upon issue is the pleasentry and misery
of the young and old.
This creator, in the wilderness of life-he is a provider and he speaks in a voice of fire.
The story is nearing its ultimate end and there's praises unto him, and no need to be
in doubt. "I serve a living God", the world is still sinning. "You can be Inspired", stop
feeling down because soon and very soon. He will be in your Town.
Line of Inquiry:
“Betwixt two thoughts there is a gap
No illusions therein entrap
In the time-stretched pause, we then see
Ego craving is a mousetrap.”
Oh, what a web our choices form
when looking to fulfill a norm.
Do this, do that, which one's the trap?
Which one to do, which one to scrap?
Must soon decide, for time takes hold
of inner cravings to be bold,
for choice of self and not the whole;
to benefit from the set goal.
In choices made, we're not alone;
since others deal with what we've sown.
>We need a space filler Dragon, any ideas?
If I were a Pokemon
If I were a Pokemon.
I would not be very happy.
With all you silly blighters.
Trying to entrap me.
If I were a real pokemon.
Trap me you would not.
As I’d do the same to you.
In real life, trap me, you would not.
Nice one Dragon, very space filling indeed. lol
A short Christmas Story.
The fog was thick one Christmas day. You could not see a hand held in front of your face. Children were crying in case Santa would not be able to find their homes let alone the chimneys if the house had them. Meanwhile in Toyland all the Elves were roped together. One end of the rope was tethered to the toy factory and the other to the dormitory where they slept and had their supper before going to bed. Suddenly a bright red light penetrated the thick fog, Rudolf had appeared and all the elves knew Santa would be able to find the homes of all the little boys and girls who had been good little boys and girls and deliver their presents safely. And you know that’s just what they did and everyone had a very merry Christmas. The end.
Another Christmas tale.
The turkey was worried at Christmas
As were the ducks upon the pond.
The chickens were keeping quiet.
And the rabbits shivered, not from the cold.
Why? Well it was Christmas.
When the farmer's family needed to all be fed.
And all of the farm animals, wondered who would lose their head.
Then when Christmas day did break.
All the farm animals were indeed glad.
Why? the question is a fair one.
All the farmer's family were vegetarian.
And all the animals on the farm, were indeed blinking glad.
As that was one of the best Christmas times, all of them had ever had.
Merry Christmas again everyone lol Merry Christmas. <
Since Adam’s fall the human race
has been stuck in a hostile space.
The evil forces wage a war,
God’s pure image they seek to tar.
This war is fought within our hearts,
with thoughts that wound like whizzing darts.
The fiend’s ghoulish goal is mind control,
to lure, entrap, and then destroy souls.
From whence spring wars which waste young lives,
that scar men’s souls and widow wives?
When reason dies and passion reigns
then wars are born in human brains.
Wars rage in the rejected soul
deprived of love and left unwhole.
The winds of war that within rage,
wise, winsome words cannot assuage.
For reasons that are not too clear,
some in their bodies feel real *****.
Men in women’s bodies feel trapped,
and women in men’s try to adapt.
The war inside is very intense,
and the mental strain is immense.
Many fall prey to false beliefs
while some experience real relief.
These inner wars drive some to drink.
Others are pushed over the brink.
Many find help that makes them whole,
and brings real peace into their soul.
So, if you’re caught up in a war,
don’t let it define who you are.
You cannot trust the way you feel,
to reveal what is truly real.
The ones who pander to your pain
are not the ones who seek your gain.
Let not the war your self-worth steal,
but seek solutions that will heal.