Best Finespun Poems
There’s a beguiling danger in beauty…
seduced as I was by the fickle fingers of fate musingly stroking my hair,
I envisaged
this lusciously lavish landscape
of sun-raptured heavenly hills and valid valleys
to be a lush, plush place for me to land ~
alas, such deception my naive perception did offer.
Buried beneath the facade of a fertile dream-come-true
and a mesmerizing mirage of natural light and zephyrus breaths -
where your thoughts hugged the horizons of my mind
like clouds on the edges of prairie dog skies
and where your stampeding passions trampled my inhibitions -
were delicate bandeaux of ice;
finespun and feathery like polar gossamer
that formed on the stems of your ruptured dreams
that then became my nightmare
when you had your hard freeze
while warm sap still flowed through your veins,
pumped and pushing through your broken being
and freezing on contact with the chilled clime
cocooning me, in a sudden silken surge of your glazing gauze
holding me, in the vivid wild magic of your frosted crystallized clutches -
fossilizing me, in icy opalescent ribbons of ornate whorls.
Unable to escape the grasping glacial petals of your exquisite pain,
your frost flowers plunged me into the frigid heart
of your bitter bluestem’s prairie winter...
There’s a beguiling beauty in danger
hypnotized and hijacked
as I was by the rhythmic sways of your tall grass ways -
your flickering tongue tasting my air
as my emotions were extorted
till I was bled white -
obviously oblivious
that I was being preyed upon
by a stealthy force of nature motivated by indigenous instincts.
Susan Ashley
March 13, 2018
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Poetry for the Sake of Poetry
Sponsor: John Lawless
*bluestem: tall grass native to the Great Plains with bluish leaf sheaths*
*frost flower: thin layers of ice extruded from long-stemmed plants in autumn or early winter. These thin ice layers form dainty ‘ribbons’ or ‘petals’*
With finespun fingers of silky words
brushed with passionate warmth cashmere,
fill my pillow here with your lush and luscious thoughts
so my starry-eyes may wander hushed sighs, as mere
sleepy sweet nothings whisper flushed forget-me-nots.
Dress my dreams agleam your soft sterling tiffany,
upon moonbeams of cream chiffon fly your mused rapture
in glimmers; so shimmers swooned stream’s epiphany
of silky words cashmere - dream’s cocoon you capture.
Susan Ashley
November 24, 2017
~ Fifth Place ~
Premiere Contest: Early Feb. 2018
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Poet’s note; In honor of my friendship with the wonderful and talented poet, Paul Callus, I would like to express my heartfelt appreciation. His lovely response to my comment on his beautiful poem 'Whispers of Love' lit the fuse to my muse, inspiring this poem...
Thank you, my dear friend Paul,
your artistry inspirits me.
She danced with the moon
For the stars in the sky,
Then into my heart;
I’ll never know why.
Her laughter, contagious;
Enchanting her looks.
Lept right of the pages
From storied old books.
She sings up the morning
And tucks in the night.
That lilting, sweet voice
Tells me everything’s right.
When she’s gone, I’m empty
And filled with despair:
An unfillable void,
Black nothingness there.
And then she returns
On the rays of the sun,
Glittering, sparkling,
Like gold thread, finespun.
She danced with the moon
For the stars in the sky,
Then into my heart;
I’ll never know why.
----------
for the POEM ON POETRY MUSE Poetry Contest
sponsored by Beata Agustin
written on 03/23/2022
I love your gentleness,
How your hands
Move like early Spring...
When you kiss me,
It is as if I am a dandelion;
All delicate spider-web
Gossamer threads and
Finespun silk fragility-
Your fingers on my cheek
Feel like the spring thaw,
As if I am ice only just
Learning how to move
Like water again...
When you kiss me,
It is with all the warmth,
The tender slowness,
Of early morning sunlight-
When you kiss me,
It is as if I am nearly
As insubstantial as sunlight...
But eventually even a dandelion
Wants to be blown away-
When a frozen waterfall meets
The Spring thaw, it does wake
Slowly, soft as Sunday morning-
It rises up like a roar, plunging
Down through space until
It is pounding like a heartbeat
That never stuttered for
Even a moment-
The seasons can teach you
That sunlight is anything but
Insubstantial;
It is heat and passion and
Faster than the sound
Of the shifting winds gasping
To keep up...
I love your gentleness,
How your hands
Move like early Spring...
But sometimes I wish
That you would kiss me
Like late Spring-
I want you to kiss me
Like a dandelion on the wind,
Like a waterfall waking up,
Like sunlight burning through
The dawn like passion;
I want you to surround me
And beat down hard like an
April rainstorm- to breathe
Me like petrichor and hold me
Like raindrops clinging to
Blades of grass, like raindrops
Soaking into the ground
Until there is no closer...
I want you to make me
Feel like I'm coming to life.
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Santa and his helper elves stacked the sleigh
With presents for children on Christmas Day
Soon off they would ride
Through wintery skies
Jingling bells and Ho! Ho! Ho! all the way.
Rudolph leads the way, he's head of the herd
His shiny nose lights the way undisturbed
He's happy and proud
To ride through the clouds
Bellowing Ho! Ho! Ho! whenever stirred.
Santa Claus sits at the back of the sleigh
Keeping gifts in his sack safe on the way
He has lots of toys
For all girls and boys
A big Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa has to say.
Singing Christmas Carols all journey through
As Jesus is the gift for me and you
The night casts a spell
O’er earth all is well
And there’s Ho! Ho! Ho! from Santa and crew.
When Santa's work is done then there is fun
As Christmas celebrations are begun
Fairies and elves dance
And the reindeer prance
Ho! Ho!Ho! another year's task finespun.
*+*
3rd December 2022
Children’s Limericks Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
A thousand simple things will make me smile...
The sleeping form of a precious newborn,
A child's drawing in his artistic style,
Pastel shades of the sky at early morn,
Fairytales of a magic unicorn.
I am amused by hair with corkscrew curls
on heads of adorable little girls.
By puppies tripping over their own feet,
Watching moonlight glimmer as night unfurls,
A surprise kiss that's incredibly sweet.
Someone falling should never make me laugh,
But quickly, I'm chuckling out of control
Then apologize for my social gaffe.
I wildly cheer when my team scores a goal.
I've heard that 'Laughter is good for the soul.'
In a spontaneous moment of fun,
I jumped into a snowdrift at full run,
Finding great pleasure in just being me.
Like the taste of cotton candy, finespun...
Life is sweeter when I set myself free
November 11, 2021
Agendaless Exuberance Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Syllable counter: Howmanysyllables
The black water rolls upon the dark sand
As the gold of twilight unveils its string
The soft reds and light grays start to command
And rise slowly, as the day tries to cling
The black of the sea is touched by the sun
As it sinks beneath where sea and sky meet
Thin gray clouds stretch, as though a thread finespun
Weaving a tapestry for eyes to greet
To lay in the silent vastness and space
And capture the beauty, held in the mind
To linger still, in memories embrace
A picture painted to always remind
How soft the vision, when colors convene
When Nature allows,when painting a scene
5/9/14
There was something about this place--
so terribly unknown,
and though I fancied its mystery
I felt so alone,
an old abandoned dock, a shady-- house on a hill--
the same wardrobe of twill, in this city of stone.
All the years, misplaced and dreary--
I notice the gnat,
fluttering neath the window pane;
it's wings timid and flat,
how lucky that creature would-- someday be--
so determined and free, a silencing splat.
Lovely, I thought, this quiet scene--
my flattened friend,
two legs still manoeuvring aimlessly,
the others embrace the end--
how simple and fragile--a finespun dust--
yet you I trust, but will not defend.
Four glass panels, light passing through--
a heavenly invite,
your ticket stamped for an eternity,
why continue on to fight?
why attempt to scramble--around and about--
for a God without, not an angel in sight.
I am your vigil, your watching eye--
I will, stand here and watch you die,
I count the minutes--till sweet release--
the sign from whom shall grant you peace,
yet no soul beckons, or heeds the call--
no one my friend, no one at all.
Spinning finespun threads
Deftly weaving silken webs.
Spider catches fly.
As tremors ripple from a beating wing.
He kills with venom in his sting.
Then spins pure silk to bind his prey.
These shrouds of death, stored in his nest.
A perfect maze, where victims do abide.
He lurks in shadows, fears the light.
Then spins his web again at eventide.
Ensnaring moths in winged flight.
Those nocturnal insects of the night.
11/ 6/ 2015.
When you and I were one,
A lifetime of joy cached,
Us dancing neath the sun
With passion unabashed,
Fond filaments finespun,
Golden memories stashed.
1st February 2023
For Line Gauthier's "Bite Size Contest No. 60"
I already understand that children
grow inside two blinks,
as quickly as the novel Mayfly
comes to the surface to die.
I'm pining for those first days again,
of edentate smiles, milestones
to fund future independence.
Pineapple-sized hearts I cradled;
lulled, exchanged dank nappies for dry;
ferried on uncrossed seas,
your armada.
Smoothed rough waters as if by divine speech
because mothers can. I was thinking that I could always be your oxygen.
I let you walk through me, under, right over.
The rocking horse
brought for my bromelain angels
winged you away -
this blasted Pegasus ...
I miss you now.
How you rode away,
ephemera of innocence!
So, what then?
Me, fumbling wild in the backspace you left.
Your flabbergasting key smash to freedom
broke our finespun home, you left
me to talk to your father, Child,
to renegotiate
the bonds;
reconstruct ancient code,
deleted excess text -
obfuscating precision and knowing -
the tribal tongue of lovers
unlearned, forgotten;
escaped alongside discarded baby bath suds,
strewn puddles of rubber duckies,
tired breasts suckled
by fresh management.
Love may be lost in the process of age
and hidden in the miserly sunset
of life, draining like a father's cold sweat.
Oh, that you could absorb my red-hot rage
and exist in a long moment with me
as though life and love were newly begun,
as if it were lace dainty and finespun,
with hopes now aglow on a sparkling sea~
but the sea has become angry and rough
capsizing and drowning us in its wrath;
love is forgotten as death lays its path
and quietude wraps you up in a huff.
In the study, bright and sunny,
I thought I'd try something funny.
Three minutes, that's all I need I cried,
As I set my timer, pen and paper aside.
I brewed my thoughts, to nice and hot,
Clicked the timer, it proclaimed a plop.
The words danced, swirled in a muse ballet,
Melding to a happenstance touche.
But, soon my thoughts began to drift,
To coffee and toast, as a hunger twang miffed.
I'm way ahead with my word play draft,
Surely there's time to pause my craft.
Suddenly the timer beeped, too late it cried.
My poem lay there soft, with runny white inside.
Just like a par boiled egg, it was yucky, half-done.
Poems like eggs, need full time run, to be finespun.
Carefully watching every word I said;
For the moment I did not want to tread
any longer on this sharp vampire’s toes;
Something new I was going to compose;
‘Fable’ I asked ‘when are we to begin? ‘
I was going to become the linchpin
of the entire city of New Orleans;
I vowed by any necessary means;
‘We will fly at the last light of Sunday.’
she replied ‘Please arrive without delay.
With me you’ll grow. I have no doubt of it,
and will quickly build a finespun skill set.’
Sink into my skin? Well she had just tried;
That desire would remain unsatisfied.
Shadows
rain shadows flow like silk scarves across the tapestry of silver dawn
rain shadows on leaves
thin silhouette signatures ~
day takes a shower
Grey shadows cloud the daybreak sky
Dusting the dawn with pensive sighs
In plaintive coos doves call the sun
To chase the gloom as day’s finespun
6/9/23
Contest: A Monoku, Haiku and Four Lines of Rhyme
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin