Best Femme Poems
There's a lady I know as pretty as primrose,
With innocence of soul,
how I know ----
None whom has walked this wide world 'ere
more lovely than her dimmest delicacy;
The sweet of lavender envious in her passing....
the King-Rose longs her deeper crimson lush,
and divorce he the earth, to marry her but a day;
And death dare not take her
lest he die in her love,
For holy her heart,
where the angels take leave
to but watch mere glimpses of her beauteous art;
with eternal pledges the very ground 'neath her feet
hallowed with heals,
Her wind as cherubin lungs to fill the sails of saints,
a messiah for Epicurus ----
for no ail shall last long in her soothing shadow;
Nay,
the sun shall not shine
with same vibrance in her leaving,
But the stars align with her remembrance,
and God in all His glory more joyful for her making;
For He made her from His finest silks
and honeys from heaven.....
a mentor for Venus,
(ma belle femme)
Categories:
femme, love, romance, soulmate, tribute,
Form:
Rhyme
You clipped my wings
You cured my flirt
You blinded my sight
From bevy of beauties.
I'm a toy in your palm
Administered unto your wish
And, like powerful Samson
I'm doomed!
Love,
Sweet bait
Covering a naked hook
The cemetary of my life.
Categories:
femme, confusion,
Form:
Free verse
They may call me some kind of psycho,
The thing is they are so right though.
Categories:
femme, psychological, woman,
Form:
Crystalline
I leave the auction sick, my mettle frayed
A ghost, I fear, in oil clutched near my side
No doubt, a ghost for which I've dearly paid!
How best to next proceed, I must decide
The painting I have bought portrays a man
laid out upon a bed as if he sleeps
A woman stands beside the low divan
Offhand, I'd guess a mistress that he keeps
I recognize the bloke who's laying prone
A classless dog and local alley cat
His past and family folk remain unknown
but those with whom he spoke called him "Merat"
I peer more closely at the racy scene;
Beside Merat, a pool of crimson red
The woman's face is cool, if not serene,
quite out of place, considering the bed!
I take my time in staring at the girl,
and make an observation I can't bear
my hands begin to shake, the air to swirl,
for that's my naked wife who's painted there!
As I trudge home, it's hell that fills my head
and passing by a doorsill with a bin,
I tell myself it's I who will be dead
if I don't shove the dreadful painting in
My mind is blank as I bypass the stairs
and free from fear of my assassin wife,
I steer my thoughts past murder and affairs,
then pull her near and thank her for my life
Categories:
femme, dark, death,
Form:
Ekphrasis
My beautiful girl...
How sweet her soft symphonies,
My love... how she makes me swoon;
when the moon was full...
and love was in her eyes
Too tender her delicate embraces,
as I if to meld her soul in mine;
her sweet laughter...
how she adores my every glance,
time would stand still...
on an autumn night, how red her lips,
to kiss...softly, and to expect nothing more,
than her wondrous love...
My soul sings her name for an age eternal,
I hath given myself to her she-beauty;
my Queen! My Lady to none other than I...
my pledge a thousand glories over;
life is always sweet in her flower for me
An envy of the world I am ---
that she be only mine...
when her world is dark,
she shines my light;
love shall be our lamp to smite the monsters;
and the shadows, no more lonely do they look,
(for she is always there)
And beauty hath adorned her name...
(Ma Belle Femme Jolie)
Categories:
femme, beauty, love, romance, soulmate,
Form:
Romanticism
The tempest kiss of seaweed miss.
Her temper heard ~ his heart stirred.
His ship astern and fast.
The siren’s scorn lambaste;
Blind youth’s reality is blurred.
The satin hair of Whitney bright
A pearlescent veil, the tide ~
Calm! Calm! It’s all a lie!
Her body movement spry.
O serpentine witch, her smile, her glide…
Her bright white fangs aglow, move slow.
The magic of her song moored
In his terrified glance;
The seaman’s in a trance.
In former life, he would have scored.
She slowly sucks his soul, and then,
One by one she tenders them.
The fishhooks through their eyes,
Amuse her with goodbyes.
Rehearsal of fatale la femme.*
2/5/2020
*femme fatale order of words was switched to aid rhyme.
A poet’s prerogative:)
Categories:
femme, dark, fear, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
When Mother Earth, Anu was young
the gods gifted her sisters;
Fair Brigid with the fiery hair,
blonde Boann of the waters.
Their bodies lay upon the globe
intertwined in rainbows
Brown skinned mountains, fiery skies,
and blonde washed dawns to rouse.
Adore the feminine in all her forms,
or mountains rise and snowslides are born.
Adore the feminine in all her forms.
Most favored by the Northern gods
was Brigid's aurora
How the endless night was blessed
so they all adored her.
The jealous day of blonde Boann
shook, from pale limb to limb,
and water rose to wake Anu
who writhed in earthen skin.
Adore the feminine in all her forms,
or mountains rise and snowslides are born.
Adore the feminine in all her forms.
The Northern lands of ice and snow
so brightened by Brigid
saw brittle glaciers break and fall
avalanches begin.
So to this day all North men pray
to the goddesses three
Earthen Anu, fiery Brigid
and Boann's watery lea.
Adore the feminine in all her forms,
or mountains rise and snowslides are born.
Adore the feminine in all her forms.
Categories:
femme, birth, mythology, woman,
Form:
Ballad
Geometry shows us God’s great fondness for lines
In the gazelles, birds and butterflies as well.
Everywhere we search in the midst of His designs,
Even in the sea we find many an animal in his shell.
Not stopping His ingenious design with mere creatures,
Or objects He fondly blesses with roundness,
That appear most often among celestial features,
He drew woman’s figure most curvy and boundless.
The womanly figures are of an exquisite selection,
Running the perfect outline from legs to hair,
Expressing haunting beauty with divine perfection,
And designed to please the heart willing to dare.
With circular lines it seems that He began
Depicting the face and hair with round design.
He moves then to the bust with a span,
And with symmetry amazes with the circular line.
Now on to the waist with its hyperbolic form,
He shapes with alluring symbolic notion.
Now cycling to legs God departs the norm,
And now straight lines obtain His promotion.
All of these sacred shapes and borders,
God draws from the world’s great sweep.
He conveys them from land’s four corners,
Cross mountains high and valleys deep.
God is the master of geometric arts;
He is the architect of spherical dreams.
And He fashions woman’s celestial parts
From the lines on landscape’s four extremes.
Now all of this is just to make very clear
My prayer that you be my spherical dream,
With starlight in your flowing hair,
Your glory will fuel my modest esteem.
Categories:
femme, devotion, faith, inspirational, people,
Form:
Rhyme
To a woman
(In this traslation of Paul Verlaine’s sonnet : « A une femme »,
I have retained the rhyme scheme to the letter, I hope. T. Wignesan)
To you these lines in faith must console I address :
A sweet dream laughs and cries in your large eyes through
The purity of your soul which is wholly good, to you
These lines from the depths of my turbulent distress.
Just that, Alas ! the nightmare which haunts me hideous
Allows no respite and furious, mad and jealous continue
Multiplying themselves like wolves in a funeral retinue
Hanging on to my fate which at their mercy they harrass !
Oh ! how I suffer, I suffer hopelessly, so mean
That the initial whimperings of the first man
Banished from Eden a mere eclogue to the cost I wean. !
And the minor discomforts you may endure in comparison
Are like the swallows in the sky on an afternoon
- My Dear – make the beautiful warm September day a boon !
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Categories:
femme, lost love,
Form:
Sonnet
I left, and crept to my room
And slept
I Wept
And Kept you in the haven of my soul like a pet.
Femme fatale
I will tell your tale
Till you sell me your soul.
You are so beautiful
So wicked
So charming.
Fickle you!
I adore your momentarily sweetness
And each and every slap on my numb cheek.
I know, deep down the unseen crevice of your heart,
Your love for me is powerful than Viagra
You are a beautiful nightmare,
So wicked
So charming
That everyone wants to see in their dreams.
Categories:
femme, angel, beauty, emotions, feelings,
Form:
Lyric
La plus belle femme dans la monde,
je la vois toujours.
Parfois, elle me voit. Parfois, elle ne fait pas.
Que doit-on faire? Que doit-on dire?
La réponse me échappe.
Est le langue de l'amour le même partout?
Dit-moi la vérité.
La plus belle femme dans la monde,
je suis manquer de temps pour la dire.
Tout ce que je tente échoue.
Les portes sont ferment.
J'espère que je reçois le courage pour la dire,
elle est toute ce que j'ai jamais voulu.
L'AMOUR est tout ce que j'ai jamais voulu.
Categories:
femme, beautiful, french, girl,
Form:
Free verse
Intricate folds open, exposing life nurturing moisture
Delicate, defying it’s true gift
Strong, nurturing and life giving as a woman
Thorns deter those who would thieve her nectar
A variety of rose’s, blooming with life
The multiplicity of woman
Beautiful and elegant
An ear empathizes with others pain
Disarming vanity enable ideas to chain
Adoring with admiration
What is it like to be a she?
A blooming pink rose glowering in morning sun
Simple complexity admitting allure
A blooming, dew moistened yellow rose
Drinking sunshine, projecting enviable femininity
Blooming femme' rose
Categories:
femme, gender, symbolism, woman,
Form:
Narrative
I love her limpid, clear blue-eyes
and her long, yellow tresses;
wise, and with grace that never dies
or wavers, she blesses.
Behind those intelligent eyes,
she ponders, thinks, and listens;
as I surmise, she feels the rise
of saintliness that christens.
With golden tresses dressed in waves,
spooled, and weaved in sage;
she braves the loathing that enslaves,
assuaging enmity's rage.
Shrewd, wise, and just, she's tolerant,
patient, kind, and compassionate;
and eschews man's Pride, the giant
of deadly sins that's intemperate.
But her existence's all but undone,
for she's more abstract than real:—
that she's only fiction I bemoan,
for she's “la femme idéale.”
Categories:
femme, beauty, fantasy, loneliness, wisdom,
Form:
Lyric
As the telling of the tale should go ~
lonely old ladies always have a cat
but I don't consider myself an old crow
so I'll ignore the tale ~ and that's that!
My Bella was a little homeless kitty
and I'd just left my home of four years.
I was sad, angry, and filled with pity
for myself and her so I ruffled her ears.
Green eyes that look into the depths of mine
a sweet meow that wakens me each morn.
She plays catch like a dog, and that's fine
until she wants to keep playing...Oh Darn!
She warms my feet at night like he used to do,
but she never yells and walks off in a huff.
She never makes me cry or even feel blue.
Since I found her our lives are not so rough.
Shades of burnt umber, grays and soft brown,
she's watching me as I describe her fur coat.
She makes me smile when I'm feeling down.
It's no wonder upon my sweet Bella, I dote.
A jump to the window sill then into my lap,
she snuggles for want of love and attention.
It's become her favorite place to take a nap
although for me it presents a distraction.
Sashay La Femme is my French name for her
because she casually struts in a feminine way.
Upon my chest she's stroked to make her purr.
If I don't shoo her off she'll stay there all day!
Bella Lane will soon reach the age of four.
She's quite the social butterfly with everyone.
A homeless baby kitten she is no more.
Come and meet her. She's ready to have fun.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
January 20th, 2016
I Love My Pet Contest
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Categories:
femme, cat, pets,
Form:
Rhyme
My love,my life, my dear and loving wife,
my precious pearl,whom I've loved all my life,
Always you stayed by my side,faithful love,
though freely you may fly, you're still my dove
who remains in my amorous embrace,
enjoying the pleasures of our love's place.
Rejoice in our erotic revelry
as I whisper sweet words into your ear.
My heart I give to you, my reverie,
my dear, whom I cherish and love sans fear.
Categories:
femme, longing, love,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter