Best Fanned Poems


Premium Member In Another Time

the waning moonlight thinly enveloped 	
the dusky canvas obscurely sprawling
across the way from the window I looked,
I knew a park was there with slides and swing	
but for the moment dark revealed nothing,
for the moment I didn’t care, either
because in darkness I felt even darker;
I was lying in bed embraced by regret
of decisions of love and time wasted,
spooning the layered sheets of doubt and fret
all thawed out from my heart into my head;
The memories of hurtful comments said
by and to me were chastising voices
of ghostly choices purposed to depress;

As dusk became the night I became lost
in whimsically strewn wishes and pleas
to gods and stars and genies alike, crossed
as eyes crying for mother drowned in seas,
I spoke to nobody but begged for keys
to unlock another time, another place
to start all over again with new space,
To unseen gods I had long since quit on
I prayed, bargained even, another chance
and I’d do everything right this season 
  - A jobless man needing a pay advance,
But for thirty three years nary a glance
had alpha or omega set on me
and this night I expected no divine decree;

several hours elapsed as I collapsed
in smoldering thoughts of suicide fanned,
-  I had outlasted night’s concealing grasp, 
and as the morning sun began its planned
ascent, I gave into Hades’ command 
through my tenth floor window whispered to me
of hellish suggestions to jump and flee;
on ledge I stood and looked across the way
for one last glimpse of earth and pastel sky,
- a small souvenir of my final day,
My eyes settled on last night’s park from high
above, and that’s when I saw God’s reply,
 - an unspoken answer for eyes turned blind,
His deafening promise to all mankind;


by his heavenly brushes came colors
where none had been, transforming lonely space
into one of vibrance and life renewed,
-  and it was a different space,
I watched as birds celebrated morning
with songs of praise and thankfulness,
-  and I felt a quick waning emptiness,
I heard the children below lining up
for the school bus all on time and ready
to live and learn in this new day granted,
-  and I felt like I knew nothing at all;

but then I knew everything all at once,
and I stepped off the ledge ready to live,

ready to embrace 
ready to seize life found…

in another time.

Premium Member The Amorous Mystique - a Collaboration With Robert Lindley

Can it be, into this world we are dropped
from heavenly streams that have never stopped?

With sweet hope gifted to our souls delight,
oceans of love and its fiery desires;
ladies so fair, we thank our keen eyesight
and leap into romance hottest fires.

Can it be, wonderment is our reward
given for living in a world so hard?

With love's soulmate waiting a heart to touch,
deepest seas of hot sexual pleasures;
daring to embrace and love very much
this bountiful store, of life's great treasures.

Can it be, that in life's short duration
we go beyond mere infatuation?

With deeper dreams that bless spirits in need,
grant romantic nights of sweetest relief;
birth greatest pleasures of harvested seeds
fruited in soul's spiritual beliefs.

Your questions asked with pulsing energy
of lovers’ wonderland of synergy..

Gifts do flow from fountain to foundations
of souls inspiring minds to understand;
seductive passion’s yearning flirtations
of red embers roused to lusty flames fanned.

In awe you long to know love’s mysteries,
untangling threads in tender reveries..

Of all the gold offered in sun’s rich rays
Sol would be poor in the worth of our love;
for never could there be more wealth of praise
than for ambrosial taste from gods above.

During this life as our lustrous hearts’ beat
we can transcend mundane with love’s white heat..

Our physical plane of mortal being
is heightened with intimate unity;
body and soul in tantra foreseeing
weaving love’s strands into eternity.


Robert J. Lindley and Susan Ashley

(a collaboration)

July 31, 2018


*For the purpose of this collaboration, tantra represents the weaving of strands into a unified whole and liberation of energy and expansion of consciousness*

Premium Member The Amorous Mystique

The Amorous Mystique

Can it be, into this world we are dropped
from heavenly streams that have never stopped?

With sweet hope gifted to our souls delight,
oceans of love and its fiery desires;
ladies so fair, we thank our keen eyesight
and leap into romance hottest fires.

Can it be, wonderment is our reward
given for living in a world so hard?

With love's soulmate waiting a heart to touch,
deepest seas of hot sexual pleasures;
daring to embrace and love very much
this bountiful store, of life's great treasures.

Can it be, that in life's short duration
we go beyond mere infatuation?

With deeper dreams that bless spirits in need,
grant romantic nights of sweetest relief;
birth greatest pleasures of harvested seeds
fruited in soul's spiritual beliefs.

Your questions asked with pulsing energy
of lovers’ wonderland of synergy..

Gifts do flow from fountain to foundations
of souls inspiring minds to understand;
seductive passion’s yearning flirtations
of red embers roused to lusty flames fanned.

In awe you long to know love’s mysteries,
untangling threads in tender reveries..

Of all the gold offered in sun’s rich rays
Sol would be poor in the worth of our love;
for never could there be more wealth of praise
than for ambrosial taste from gods above.

During this life as our lustrous hearts’ beat
we can transcend mundane with love’s white heat..

Our physical plane of mortal being
is heightened with intimate unity;
body and soul in tantra foreseeing
weaving love’s strands into eternity.

Robert J. Lindley and Susan Ashley

(a collaboration)

July 31, 2018
______________________________

*For the purpose of this collaboration, tantra represents the weaving of strands into a unified whole and liberation of energy and expansion of consciousness*


Premium Member I'll Always Remember

I will always remember the moment we met.
(Haunting woodlands in springtime, your slim silhouette)
The glint in your eyes sparked a tempest at dawn
overwhelming the dreams of a slumbering fawn.

I will always remember your singular smile
(Fusing fantasies, fancies and phantoms the while) 
when I brought you a daisy, then fled from the room,
weaving dizzy designs on a mystical loom.

I will always remember first touching your hand.
(Like the wing of a sparrow, frail fingers were fanned)
With my heartbeat aflutter, I jittered with joy - 
on the surface, a man, though inside still a boy.

I will always remember the sound of your laugh
(Merry mermaid amused in a summer sea bath)
as we strayed 'long the strand, for a moment, alone,
with your tresses a’ tousle and tumbled and blown.

I will always remember your breath on my skin
(Seeking castles in chaos, a spirit in spin)
as you drew me aside and our tongues first entwined -
tangled twists of amour had begun to unwind.

I will always remember the fires of love.
(Shades of autumn ablaze in the tree leaves above)
Crazy passions ignited whenever we lay 
painting stars in the night with the dazzle of day. 

I will always remember the nightingale's tune.
(Divinations awash neath a ruddy blood moon)
When we kissed to its cadency, laughed as we danced,
lurking lanterns in limbo forged shadows enhanced.

I will always remember the shattering knell -
(Wanton words tolled in winter...  ‘Adieu, dear... farewell’)
just a note near a nook where so often we slept
which I read and reread and reread while I wept.

A Debutante's Ball To Remember

A Debutante’s Ball to Remember

In the autumn of my life, oft have I recalled that superb summer night,
when I finally experienced my long-awaited heart’s delight.
Family and close friends were all ready for my entry into society,
to celebrate it with a grand debutante’s ball filled with gaiety.

In a dreamlike state, I felt like a princess with a golden crown,
making my grand entrance wearing a champagne chiffon gown. 
With matching gloves, and a pair of satin shoes on my tiny feet, 
my auburn hair was adorned with butterflies and posies sweet.

The ballroom was magically transformed with gas lights all aglow,
and a glittering chandelier reflected on a highly polished mahogany floor. 
As the orchestra played, my body and soul were enraptured and consumed
by its rendition of Ravel’s enthralling “La Valse” which pervaded the room.

Elegant ladies were all dressed to the nines in exquisite pastel gowns
of winter white, baby blue, powder pink, pale peach and beautiful browns.
In tacit competition to out-best each other, social charms were well-honed,
as they daintily fanned themselves and gossiped animatedly in hushed tones.

Refined gentlemen in their finely-tailored tails navigated the room to mingle,
keeping an eye out for eligible heiresses beautiful, graceful, and single.
Wafts of mild masculine colognes came from discretely dabbed faces and hair;
while the fresh feminine floral scent of French perfumes permeated the air. 

Armed with a full dance card, I waltzed the night away with ardent admirers,
curtsying and coquettishly smiling, moving on to more exciting suitors.
My enchanting evening climaxed with Strauss’s “Vienna Waltz” filling the hall.
Oh, what a tale I will have to tell as my granddaughter prepares for her first ball!


11-21-2014

Contest:      Your Favourite Old Poem (06-08-2015) 
Sponsor:      Shadow Hamilton
Placement:   1st

Contest:      Ballroom Delights (12-16-2014)
Sponsor:     Isaiah Zerbst
Placement:  2nd

Premium Member The Colors of Love

The Colors Of Love


A tender smile, a fleeting glance,
two beating hearts and minds in trance.
Each feels a sense of something whole
rest warm and soothing in the soul,
to share all things of mind and heart
and of that whole become a part.
With radiance of inner glow
upsurge of passions soon bestow 
strong flowing currents charged with fire.
Now fanned and fed by love’s desire, 
emboldened hearts combine to share,
two beating hearts as one to care,
surrender fears, lay each soul bare
and bond as one, their love declare.


Sandra M. Haight

~9th Place~
Premiere Contest: Contest No. 235
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 11/09/2016

~9th Place~
Contest: The Colors of Love
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
Judged: 06/10/2016


Premium Member Beside a Quiet Stream

I lived in a beautiful valley, beside a quiet stream
It was a place I escaped to when I needed to dream
surrounded by the tallest mountains in the world,
so I believed when I had been an innocent little girl

Pure until he walked down from the mountain high
He came to me without a word, we stood eye to eye
His only gesture was to reach out and take my hand
with that touch, the flames in my heart were fanned.

At last, 'hello,' was but a whisper from his sensuous lips.
He brought my hand to his mouth, kissed my finger tips
and then he said that he'd watched me for many a year,
grow from a child to a woman and I had nothing to fear.

I chose to believe every word that he breathed forth.
I took his other hand in mine and we headed North.



He asked me to journey with him and share in his life
He promised to take care of me as his friend and wife
He said with me by his side, everything we would share
and that for years he'd longed to have me as his lady fair.

It didn't matter where we went or even where we slept
but after a few years, what mattered was that I wept.
I cried because his promises all proved to be untrue.
I cried because I knew there was nothing I could do.

I walked away from him and headed South on my own.
Once again I dreamed in the valley where I lived alone.
The nights were cold as I lay down on the valley floor
there was no more warmth from the man I had adored.

When I slept I always saw the mountains fade away,
not the man who came to me beside the stream that day.



My ears heard a rustling, perhaps it was just the wind
but a shadow fell over me and the sunlight was dimmed.
"Hello," was all he said before he knelt beside me there
Once again he asked if life with him would I like to share.

How long we sat and stared at each other, eye to eye,
I'd not hazard to guess, nay, I'd not even care to try.
I asked, "What have you done in the years since I left?"
He said he'd almost died from a heart sad and bereft.

Four years it had been between 'hello' and 'goodbye.'
Years spent in my valley, where I thought I would die.
He stood before me now, this mountain of a man.
I rose up to my knees and then I held out my hand.

There is a kind of love one can only capture in a dream,
But some can be revived beside quiet waters of a stream.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Coffee Shoppe

As scented air aroused my misty mind, 
a shadow broke the early morning Sun,
aromas wafting from the morning’s grind,
assured the senses morning had begun.

I felt an airy presence from afar.
Unnerved, I sought some comfort in my joe
when then appeared this early morning star 
with beauty that would set the dawn aglow.

She passed with nonchalance and without glance, 
and as I gaped, she simply stared astray,
her exit, with a whim and fickle prance, 
fanned arrogance that whisked my breath away.

I contemplated thoughts of giving chase
though in a haze I let her slip away,
but like the Sun, this path she may retrace
and destiny could pass again my way.

And as the morning’s essence ebbed and waned, 
her image kept returning o’er again,
the vision twisted aimlessly in vain
as sunrise caused her beauty to transcend.

I finalized my mundane morning rite 
then pondered how its remnants would unfold,
and knew… that I had seen the Morning’s Light 
and hoped once more its beauty I’d behold.

Premium Member A Day In May

Allured ripples of sparkling lips
Through meadows fanned by fragrant breeze
Her face I’ve touched with fingertips
Along floral banks which appease.
While waters brisk with melody
Aid one's journey to buoyant sea
The choral breach of hymnody
Welcome the waves of sonic glee.

 © Harry J Horsman 2022

Premium Member Mourning Doves In Nature

Hear the soft coo-cooing that faithful love imparts, 
                   mourning doves, sharing their beating hearts.

              On lofty eaves, build nests of winter pine and twigs,
                   Keeping their eggs close to their breasts.

            Oval shaped, snowy white, they hatch and come alive;
                           A brood grows and will survive.

                    Plump bodies speckled in gray and black;
       Take flight with fanned out tails that reveal a fringe of white.

   The warm summer is nearing its’ end, Mourning Doves and fledglings
      Together, will ascend; blue skies headed for the border of Mexico.


March 6, 2022
For: Form-I-Imagism – New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Placed 3rd in contest

Fated

And so it goes. Seated, contemplative. A sudden cacophony abiding. Many floods ebb then flow; good/bad. Memories distilled, truth distorts. Folly found fair ‘gainst fear flames fanned. Shame ignorance opened, book bound veracity logged. Guardrails bent, bowed, betray. Step, then step again, mindlessly tumbling ‘cross lifescape willy, tilting nilly. Ramble shambles consequences unvetted. Year strategy unfolds unscripted. And then once more. The chronological avalanche swift recall swipes quickly to next. Where I have been, never again, yet reminiscent, always. Trails erased and failed anew. Aging days no longer brighter, burning coals dim to ash till heat demise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                erosion attitude
season’s grind edges away

saves stack each upon each

Premium Member She Called Him Wind

It was in the early fall when the colors of life were changing
Leaves painting a new carpet on the sidewalk
Eyes meeting 
Exchanging glances
A pounding noise
Was that his heart?
Candleights and dinner
A starlit night                                                 
Weeks passed
He could not stay but vowed return and she called him Wind
She said the wind never stayed but took her breath
Fanned her spark into a flame
Then left again before the rain
A kin to the elements but
A stranger to the storms he left behind
 Years passed
Time was now the enemy as he returned to find her gone
Fighting tears and memories
Reaching for the arms that once held him
Hearing her voice in the heavens
And she called him Wind.

Premium Member The Now Continuum

Line of inquiry:
“since thoughts speak in past tenses,
drop mind, rely on senses,
embracing and releasing,
pain pangs and pleasure pleasing”
____________________________

I will turn away from the shadows
         of what once I knew, 
mirroring the past
        carrying a c h e s
            of battles fought
and dreams that n e v e r came true

         instead search for love
flickering within,
        never before fanned,
           but may blaze and blossom.

it will script new stories
       breathe fresh life into me.
it will come in the form of quieting peace
       like a hand holding me, never letting go

never again I shall chase 
      the phantoms of the past.
       I ‘ll not cry on flowers wilted, 
          count on buds that canker might blight, 
            but marvel over beauty blossomed! 

find joy in giving up a plan that went futile
     take one day at a time and live now
        steal the moment like a thief
and enjoy the beauty the senses give.

    extinct are our Yesterdays, 
illusory are our Tomorrows, 
    today is all that exists, 
       what there is and all there is.

     today is our way up hill
       the arena for action decreed
          the stage set for the show
the tool and trade for life.

today well lived leaves - 
       every yesterday
a reminiscence - sweet to relish! 
     every tomorrow 
a vision glorious to chase! 

      drool not, over yester years,
rant not on chances missed
      greet Today, right in front!

l i v e Now.

render it your respiration and perspiration
   strive, 
      find, 
       and reap
        rewards 
          galore!

Premium Member Pi Day

On March fourteenth, the day of pi
I pined to buy an apple pie
A python spied me at the door,
a sharp-eyed pirate on the floor

Oh piebald pipe of piety
Do not aspire to piracy!
A spiny pain will occupy
My poor pylorus pining pie

Pied piper pyromaniac
Porkpie in hand, applies attack
A pyrite spark to light became
Papyrus lit and fanned the flame

The python backs, afraid of fire
The piker fears a funeral pyre
He'd be expired and unprepared
To cipher circles pi r squared

Our pineal glands made pie-eyed plans
And Pontius Pilate washed his hands
A pile of pilots can't deny
I occupied my day with pi

October 25, 2014
Rhymed iambic tetrameter
There are 35 "pi" sounds. Can you find them all?
© Roy Jerden  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Where Frozen Embers Still Burn

Frozen embers still are burning;
Deep inside, my heart is yearning
For revival, the returning
Of man's heart before the fall:
Man and woman, disobeying
Lost the heart for which I'm praying,
Pure and holy, never straying-
Take my heart, Lord, take it all.

Frozen embers now are burning,
Fanned to flames by heaven's learning,
Good and evil things discerning
By the Spirit and the Word.
Fan the embers dim and dying;
Breathe in me, I tire of trying:
All my efforts end in sighing,
But through You is joy secured.

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