Best Festoon Poems
Nourished by garland skies of scarlet blue
And velvet grass in golden green festoon
September wed us; one heart, made of two
Days of turquoise kisses, too much, too few
Cloud castles filled our eyes, too long, too soon
Nourished by garland skies of scarlet blue
As courting butterflies demurely flew
In circles, touching a sunset lagoon
September wed us; one heart, made of two
Oaks framed in ancient splendor crafted new
Leaves burst in layered passion of maroon
Nourished by garland skies of scarlet blue
Once summer romance burned off, what is true
Love's music swayed our souls, set to its tune
September wed us; one heart, made of two
I held one ivory rose, clinging dew
Made lovelier under her sapphire moon
Nourished by garland skies of scarlet blue
September wed us; one heart, made of two.
Rodents can be loquacious
That includes your average gerbil
They love to prattle, chat and blather
They really are quite verbal
Hamsters are talkative too
Just as garrulous as can be
With running mouth and wheel to match
They are a sight to see
But I am loath to squander words
Sparing usage is my way
I gather them like so many acorns
Against a rainy day
Yes, word collecting is the passion
Of this precocious squirrel
I garner adjectives, verbs and nouns
Be they singular or plural
The park is fecund land
There a plethora may be found
Vociferous, vehement and vex
I lately scooped up off the ground
The verb tree is prolific
Its discovery quite a boon
The other day it bestowed upon me
Flaunt, foster and festoon
All along the sidewalks
Concrete nouns lie strewn about
How blithely I did snatch up
A lummox, a laggard and a lout
To command a better view
I nimbly scampered up a pole
From this lofty perch I spotted
Wheedle, coax and cajole
Away in the distance
I spied a tempting pile
Heaped up for the taking were
Enticing, alluring and beguile
What do I with so much verbiage?
You would be fair to ask
Squirreling away so vast a lexicon
Must prove a mammoth task
The answer lies in my arboreal abode
Where these many words I stash
In alphabetical order they are arrayed
From zealous to abash
In a capricious mood one day
I grouped them by part of speech
Such a cacophony arose from clustering
Banter, badger and beseech
No matter how I sort them
The wasting of words I spurn
Reserved for rarest use I keep
Reticent, laconic and taciturn!
_________________________________
by Brian McClain - Feb 17, 2016
Originally posted Feb 17, 2016
Accidentally deleted Feb 22, 2016
Reposted Feb 22, 2016
Oh Halloween babe
born under October's moon
weave with forlornment
your bewitching adornment
of a harvest leaf festoon.
Faces in pumpkins
awake memories of when
the children were young;
and "Trick-or-Treat!" rung
the holiday season in.
Scorpio woman
wipe away your wistful tear
and tend to the craft
of your birthday draught
to toast your forty-first year.
Spring
A refresh of rain, falling down on them all
Un-quenching each leaf with tilt refrain
Linden shaped blossoms in spring do install
Such beautiful heaven that no one can maim
The burst of an orange, a tulip in bloom
Infusion of flowers, by meadow's festoon
The shine of an orchid, ever so stark,
It stays on my mind, long after dark
The Rose brings her beauty, as I swift appraise
And summer goes trailing with fever, her blaze
Summer
Heat waves arrive, wearing red flaming scarves
Bronzed cherub angels, by cool fountain spout
Yellow kissed flowers by summer's head count
The dahlias in love, with passions, don't starve
Bikinis and tank tops with summer tanned legs
Atop the hot board walk, skip trampling keds
Bleach blonds and ravens in tune with the fair
Coasters and bolsters and times without care
It's all in the season of sunshine and thrills
Where fireworks burst, o'er emerald hills!
Autumn
The seasons pass as my eyes behold
Soft change in hues when bending limbs grow bare
As colored leaves turn brown begin to fold
To finally scatter into Autumn's air
These days remembered on a road of leaves
Traveling aspen groves ablaze in gold
A Winter's chill before the Autumn grieves
Reminds that all life ends before its cold
And calls in voice its yearly subtle dance
As songs from birds now give a quiet note
While those in love hope colors will enhance
To feel chill from Winter when color dies
To bless the fallen leaves with sadder eyes
Winter
The Winter's cold comes dressed in velvet white
And spills its unique flakes upon the Earth
Scenes of beauty calm, open eye's delight
And cleanse the ground before the Spring's rebirth
I'll walk upon the freshest fallen snow
And see the trail of prints I leave behind
While knowing it reveals the path I go
I'll make a snowy Angel some will find
To cross the banks of white where depth is low
And sit among the quiet, Winter's brought
To see the landscape clean with softest glow
Shall bring to me another gentle thought
I'll lift my eyes to find a pictured scene
And marvel at the white that is pristine
written by Mystic Rose & Frederic Parker
9/20/14
POET'S HONEYMOON
Pretend we're on a poet's honeymoon
Let's dance atop the Massifs on the moon
We'll get our fill of Milky Way's champagne
Behind a chariot of stars, the twain
Each star a stepping stone of Heaven's rune
That leads down to a luminous lagoon
And when Andromeda begins to wane
We'll take our muses to another plane
Riding on the shooting star, we will croon
Rhapsodying together, hearts in tune
Lost in love, our muses will not complain
As we set foot in Sombrero's domain
Each planet, we'll decorate with festoon
And get drenched in Saturn's diamond monsoon
Once heights of passion with words, we attain
Back to earth, where we can pretend again.
Form: Rhyme (10 syllables)
26.03.2023
AABB AABB 10 10 10 10
3/24/23
Daniel Turner Joanna Daniels
Tepid rain drips upon flowers.
June feels cold with all these showers.
Sunset descends, as twilight dips.
Upon flowers, tepid rain drips.
I feel afraid, numb from the cold.
It feels like summer is on hold.
As thunder and lightning cascade,
numb from the cold, I feel afraid.
Ears crave to hear her soothing tone.
She's the queen to my kingdom's throne.
In her embrace, heart has no fear.
Her soothing tone, ears crave to hear.
Just like the moon, glowing at night,
in darkness her love provides light.
In bright shades we form a festoon,
glowing at night just like the moon.
Oh cruel fate, gift me a glance,
her lips have left me in a trance.
I feel blind without my soulmate.
Gift me a glance, oh cruel fate.
Autumn Yawns
Autumn yawns – early darkness stunts her days
Eventide wrapped in golden umber tones
Bands of autumn hues swaddle mellow haze
Sunset sundrops sweet serenades intone.
Twilight dozes ‘neath the harvest’s birthstone
Autumn savors new frost in early dusk
Scarlet scents, aphrodisiac cologne,
Festoon icy crystals - autumnal musk.
Vesper rondeaus rustle in dry cornhusks
Scents of spice float in the warm afterglow
Autumn tastes nursery rhymes like sweet rusks
Stars keep watch in astral autumn meadows
She slips into the mellow midnight’s glow
Drowsy barcarolles bid Autumn goodnight
Harvest hectic days through cradle songs slow
Lullabies wait to croon in faded lights
Drowsy barcarolles bid Autumn goodnight
Bands of autumn hues swaddle mellow haze
Lullabies wait to croon in faded lights
Autumn yawns – early darkness stunts her days.
10-219-22
Contest: Autumn Pandoum
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Rhymes checked with www.rhymezone
Syllables checked with www.howmany syllables
Along the tracks of Grandma's quaint backyard, her lavender perfume reminded me of my early teenhood,
digging the soil to thresh the roots as I buried seeds through its clayed womb.
In this late hour, my eyes feel her calm laughter, speaking to each blossom and naming every new bud after me:
Somehow, I sit on an old bench recalling how we tended ringlets of leaves...a pleasure which grew through seasons until it was my time to water more trees rising higher than I.
And fragile like shamrock, Grandma bowed low to greet new shoots while her fingers wrinkled and grew thin --hiding her unknown body pain.
Oh she owned the moon ; nature was her lavish throne.
Gathering a few truant stems, I hear her banter among vines... a melody so bouyant descending
from God knows where on the horizon:
I smile and sob in reverence at this panoram among the mist and weeds of duskfall.
A pond stretches its loop where ripples curl between my toes; and a festoon of red blooms huddle on its bent slope weaving through the rim of a hill...
The nimble tap of spring grazes my face as I wiggle my palms to relish this moment draped in pristine streams-- achingly alone-- bearing all
the glow of Grandma before an ensemble of birds whisks by.
Now as a midlifer, I trace back my teenhood with charmed fondness, knowing this secret garden is now mine to nourish and harness--
her spirit sashaying across the pampas
with abandon--
until then and until when, I cling to ' now.'
GLISTENING GOKARNA
This scenic beauty, a grand temple town
Seated in the Arabian Sea like a golden crown
Bedecked on its bosom the blue beaches festoon
To name a few- Kudle, Paradise,Om and Half moon
Plays host to a galore of global tourists
Adventure enthusiasts and also motorists
Its a Sanskrit hub; has temples ancient opulent
Spirituality, Vedic chants have sprayed its sweet scent
The gracious mountains line the beaches pristine
Verdant vegetation like emerald has draped it green
Coconut fronds along the shores sway in gentle breeze
Colourful narrow streets and shacks to you please with ease
Savoring the magic of Sunrise and Sunset on the yellow sand
Makes you get lost in trance attaining bliss with its magic wand
In the twilight’s crimson red a natural painting of the retreating birds…
And fishing boats dancing with waves cannot be explained with words!
8th November 2016
My Kind of Town - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Janis Thompson
Notes:
Gokarna is a small temple town on the western coast of India in Uttara Kannada district of the state of Karnataka. Gokarna in Kannada language (my mother tongue) means Cow's ear.
Vedic chant-The oral tradition of the Vedas (Srauta) consists of several pathas, "recitations" or ways of chanting the Vedic mantras. Such traditions of Vedic chant are often considered the oldest unbroken oral tradition in existence, the fixation of the Vedic texts (samhitas) as preserved dating to roughly the time of Homer (early Iron Age).UNESCO proclaimed the tradition of Vedic chant a Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity on November 7, 2003.
before the first man made from clay, you caused the seas that toss today, also the
earth you made by hand, it bring forth fruit you did command! arrayed the heavens
sun and moon,.
With living stars the voids festoon.! or perhaps this fame is all undue? a
fallacy a lie untrue! and many people do such expound, that this is so! from
what they've found:)
For they can and will explain, that the elements state it all so plain, and that from
these alone all life came forth, yet in my ignorance I’ll say, in a vacuum case
these things could stay." and then times-plus they should be able to show
how life was formed the way they know.! and yet.! and yet.' I must confess.! And from
what I’ve seen I must digress.' for some women & men,we have been told, with, scientific
apparatus have so to say struck gold.! they planned and wrought, schemed and thought
And brought forth life I do believe." having thought about this quite a while.."
And though my instinct finds it vile; they’ve proved one point... To me past doubt.!
CREATION CREATION... Their deeds shout out..!
© Joe Maverick 23-10-2010
Blessed art thou that believes, kneel before Thee
Morn and night our eynes unfolded on Thee
Lest we stagger or plop by the wile trap
To Thee we knock, drop the badger unwrapped
Creeds from thou embark, twitches of deeds shift
Habitus from wails and torment we drift
Hands of stone we glorify images
Images of beasts festoon above thy sages
Afore icons loss of might comes thy judgement
Erelong nay beliefs or mooncalfs will lament
Betwixt good and evil crumpets disport
Eke esurient gudgeons hence thirst and port
Orison, not purfles orts for prithee
Maugre poshes, naught comes higher than Thee
Oh, garden of exotic night
my flesh inhales its luscious tunes;
when summer drifts, raw blooms excite
kisses wild as the lilting moon,
enchanting July’s glazed festoon!
Sara Kendrick's Five Lines/ Metaphors And Simile
6/25/2015
I’m building castles in the sand
on the shores of a grey, grey sea.
The clouds have gathered overhead
and the shells are wave-washed clean.
Footprints wander down the shore
of the vast and vacant sea,
the waves are buffing them away
and turning the sand sateen.
Beyond the berm and the waving grass
inked upon the setting sun,
someone sits in a house of glass
as sand through fingers runs.
I’m watching seabirds dodge the stars
when the waves reflect the moon
and pulling seaweeds from the rocks
they drearily festoon.
And the sand’s run out of the fingers now,
and the drink’s run out of the cup;
the house of glass is quiet now,
all the shutters drawn up.
The truth was concealed with many branches,
viscous web woven of half-truths and lies;
hidden, the spider spun a silk repugnant
off a sticky tongue prone to moralize.
Newly emerged with dewy wings unfurled,
she fanned them, innocently unaware,
among fragrant blossoms naively sweeping
green garden border, concealing his snare.
At last the sweet sun rays warmed and dried her;
she was ready to lift bright wings and fly.
New vistas, new horizons awaited
this adventurous lady butterfly.
Into the clear, clean air softly rising,
faltering with the newness of fresh wings,
she dips low among the flower faces,
is imprisoned in gummy, wet web strings.
Just one moment - innocence is plundered
and whirled round and round - bitterest cocoon;
he pivots in springing, gleeful madness
to add the trophy to his black festoon.
Copyright, August 8, 2016
They marched past my lane warriors all
Smart green fatigues, mirthful soldiers tall,
Hats inclined, their buttons shining bright
Boots drumming into a warming light,
Young hearts harking to their nation’s call.
I laud mother’s who have given birth
To lads seeking a heavenly berth,
Spurning their tomorrows’ for others
Courting death for sake of their brothers,
They are but heavens’ glory on earth.
They melted into that day of June
Unsung heroes in a blazing noon,
Cheered by townsfolk bidding them goodbye
Packing them to battle fields to die,
Their wreaths being readied as festoon.
Their bravery in battles I read
On alien soil they lay and bled,
Spilling pure blood of mothers’ somewhere –
Whose tears of valour only pride can bear,
Their flesh ceded to the land of dead.
O’ History on your pages I smote
That heavens’ pen this bloodied note,
Of unsung heroes who gave their breath
Quartered their flesh at altars of death,
Patriots for whom praises it quote.
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