Best Finishing Touch Poems
Roses and Sunbeams
Her scent wafts alongside her and sinks into my heart;
For I have become fixated, by a desire for her touch.
She was glorious and overpowering, from the very start;
I am hooked and addicted to her love; she is my drug.
She leads me to distraction, for in her I eyes I am lost;
Hopelessly infatuated with her, I see only roses.
She brings me to Heaven and my trust is all it cost;
For she believes in my faithfulness and in her pocket are posies.
Her words are like sunbeams, bringing light to my darkness
And our candlelit romantic nights; shall never be soiled.
She can remember my love and forget any bitterness;
For I am here to cure her heart and our love can never be destroyed.
She is eternally locked, within a memory of happiness;
For she brings me warmth, when all else in the world is cold and black.
I am alive when our hands are together; embrace me my Goddess.
For I am enslaved by your beauty and I shall never fondness lack.
I have no need to speak to her of my lust for her body;
Because she can see clearly how much I love her; I glide.
In her arms I am forever gladdened, by her proximity;
But if she was ever taken from my eyes, I would surely die.
I need her presence beside me, to guide me along;
This story of a life, as of yet unseen by the world.
But inside her I find, I am locked forever, she is our song;
She is a poem, a poetess, a masterpiece…she is my girl.
She is the flick of the last paint stroke, on the Mona Lisa;
She is the full stop at the end of a play by Shakespeare.
She is the last chip off the shoulder, of the Adonis sculpture;
She is the seal to enclose the writings of a scripture of literature.
She is the last second of pregnancy; she is a new born baby.
She is the last, she is unique, she broke the mould; she is reverie.
She is the Gateway to Heaven; she is the perfect lady.
She is Gods day of rest after a week of creating humanity.
She is the last heartbeat of my life and she is love…
She makes me complete…she is the perfect finishing touch.
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
I've always loved Aspen's leaves of gold
Even though winter's what they foretold.
And maples' gold among the crisp red,
once fallen make the lovliest bed.
The green was nice and furnished us shade.
Beneath it, young lovers' vows were made.
It matched the green-swept, rolling hills.
holding its own, without golden frills.
Poets say golden leaves never last.
Trees try to capture, but gold flees fast.
We catch its glint for a moment or two,
before fairies steal with morning's dew.
There's something special about the gold.
Perhaps elusiveness is its control.
Its story told with a painter's brush,
poet's thoughts adding finishing touch.
With a stroke of the brush,
A dab of paint,
A portrait, I drew.
Blew into it the breath of life,
Lo! There it stays my Masterpiece
Your Preference Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Bite size poem No.26
Sponsored by
Line Gauthier
It has always been said that a zebra can't change his stripes
I wish that I can change mine seeing that I can't do nothing right
I don't see the point in being who I am because it's never acceptable
Everyday in life I feel that I have to change and stay adaptable
I can't find a happy medium and appear to be too extreme
I'm always misunderstood and no one knows what I mean
There's never a time that I'm not being told that I'm way too serious
Looking out for the feelings of others makes me appear delirious
What would happen if I decided to change my stripes
If I decided to take life as a joke and didn't put up a fight
Doing just what is expected of me but not too much
Completing the task given to me minus the finishing touch
If I stop going above and beyond to satisfy other people
Stop yielding to broken authority but instead try being their equal
Learn to start breathing the air others take in and not care
In this world people like me never win which isn't fair
Like our unique finger prints no two zebras share a match
I can appear overly emotional to those who don't know the facts
It hurts to know my personality
causes me to appear unstable
Just because I aim to please I'm also gaining a losers label
I seem to hurt myself trying to make other people happy
Losing my self respect while others are laughing at me
That day will come eventually when this zebra would change it's stripes
Something is going to snap and cause my emotions to go on strike.
A seed sprouted at the foot of the Cross, and was
watered by the Blood of Jesus.
Thorns had fallen from the brow of Christ and attached
themselves to the branches.
The petals opened to look upon the Son of Grace.
A red rose the color of His blood stained face.
The thorns had sharpened to a point to prick the feet
of Jesus, but, didn't prevail. Jesus had the nail.
A rose was born near a thorn, just like you and me.
Both will live eternally.
The rose will always bloom,
the thorn forever doomed.
The rose is a flower that one associates with love.
The beautiful delicate petals wrap around each
other as if to protect themselves from the thorns on
the branches.The rose have a meaning of their own.
On special occasions, to say," I love you so much,"
you will see the rose. They are the finishing touch.
Each petal sends out a fragrance that draws you near.
Thorns are just the opposite.
Flesh that gets in a thorn's path, feels thorn's wrath.
The rose, the thorn, so close, yet the petal is
protected, like our soul, a boundary has been set
from the one who paid our debt.
In the spiritual realm there is also the Rose and the thorn.
The Rose of Sharon, Jesus Christ, the living God, who
speaks, "I love you," to all the world.
The thorn, the destroyer, has hatred unfurled.
The rose will always be the universal flower of love.
Jesus Christ is Love sent from above.
Some thing tells me that you lie
I feel the lie when you tell me
That you love me and miss me
Do you really feel my love?
Sometimes I want to cry
Other times I want to scream
To think that you made me into a man
You’re the first that I ever loved and the last
You’re the one that stays in my mind
Like tattoos on skin is the image in my heart
You were the one I truly wanted
My only desire was to make you happy
In my arms and under the moon
You took my innocence and my light
I sometimes think that if you took
Our relationship seriously and with no lies
Symbolically you took my virginity away
In the way that I no longer feel what I felt
When I first laid eyes on you in the ninth grade
The skips of heart beats when I talked to you
The nervous chill when we looked at each other
I doubt that you were a virgin and lets not
Touch that subject because you were far from it
Your kind is never rare a player is what you’re called
I’m 20 years old single with a lot of company
My heart is recovering slowly
Only another love will do the finishing touch
They say that men do not cry
Men are dogs and we play with love
They never say when woman hurt the heart
What’s the point being muscular and romantic?
If the heart will be damaged from lies
I gained wait in seven months not because of you
I think that a girl should love a guy just how he is
Love his kindness, romance, sarcasm, and poetry
A blow of betrayal is the deepest wound for men
I learned the hard way that innocence will always lose
You started the heat in my body
With you is when I learned about dating
And the flaws of love
Here and now no one will ever play me
I don’t wish you harm
Because I love you like the world does
But what comes around goes around
It is as simple as that
Life Is Like A Maypole.
In our spring, we are born;
our dance begins as inter-woven events
and experiences build our future.
Blood-red trauma,
wraps itself around our happiest moments…
it never wins.
Always uplifted by orange-joys,
winding ribbons, we heal a bit.
Intermingling emotions are etheric ribbons;
round and round, they twine.
Once we are completely enveloped;
developed by life’s dance;
the grey’s of middle-age decline,
begins to unravel;
reversing our celebration until,
death’s icy grip ads its finishing touch.
A soul is born; in growing,
learns and passes into another existence…
re-incarnating for another dance.
Entered contest: Life Is Like A Maypole
Sponsored by: Seren Roberts
1-19-15
Bought an old cottage
In the country side
Needs some renovation
Have to modernize
On a plot of land all on its own
Wanna make this house a home
Gonna fix those windows
New bathroom too
Another thatched roof
Make it brand new
Go to the bank and ask for a loan
Wanna make this house a home
It needs some plastering
The kitchens a mess
But it’s got character
Style and the rest
Fallen in love with these pretty stones
Gonna make this house a home
It’s a house of two seasons
Picture cosy evenings
Sitting by the open fire
I get a special feeling
From those old oak beams
Gonna make this house my desire
You choose the wallpaper
And I'll pick the leather
I'm sure we'll be happy
Decorating together
Can't think of anything
Than designing together
To make this house a home
This house is not a home
Without the finishing touch
I'll build a wall out the front
Put fence out the back
Lights along the pathway
Flowers and some gnomes
Now doesn't that look sweet
This house is our home
© Copyright KC.Leake
26th June 2015
All Rights Reserved
A seed sprouted at the foot of the Cross, and was
watered by the Blood of Jesus.
Thorns had fallen from the brow of Christ and attached
themselves to the branches.
The petals opened to look upon the Son of Grace.
A red rose the color of His blood stained face.
The thorns had sharpened to a point to prick the feet
of Jesus, but, didn't prevail. Jesus had the nail.
A rose was born near a thorn, just like you and me.
Both will live eternally.
The rose will always bloom,
the thorn forever doomed.
The rose is a flower that one associates with love.
The beautiful delicate petals wrap around each
other as if to protect themselves from the thorns on
the branches.The rose have a meaning of their own.
On special occasions, to say," I love you so much,"
you will see the rose. They are the finishing touch.
Each petal sends out a fragrance that draws you near.
Thorns are just the opposite.
Flesh that gets in a thorn's path, feels thorn's wrath.
The rose, the thorn, so close, yet the petal is
protected, like our soul, a boundary has been set
from the one who paid our debt.
In the spiritual realm there is also the Rose and the thorn.
The Rose of Sharon, Jesus Christ, the living God, who
speaks, "I love you," to all the world.
The thorn, the destroyer, has hatred unfurled.
The Rose will always be the universal flower of love.
Jesus Christ is Love, sent from above.
All alone and wanting a bite to eat,
she made herself a special treat,
but needed the finishing touch,
and that was to add a pickle...
all the while thinking,
they can be very fickle...
Grabbing a new jar,
trying to screw the lid off,
she twisted and she let out a shout;
"This is like trying to break into Fort Knox!"
And also wishing that she had a nickle for
every time she tried to pry open
a jar of pickles!
Feeling frustrated and dismayed,
when she turned to put away
the jar of pickles that day,
she was stunned to find
a large jar of nickles..
with a note on it saying:
Now if you can open this jar,
here are some nickles
to buy you
one of those
rubber grip gizmos!
P.S. And some more pickles!
”Flowers are the creator’s finishing touch, perfection in last strokes of His brush.”Quote - Poet’s own
Zinnia awakes in the morning mist
Awaiting the moment the earth is kissed
By the sun when it has come out to play
And Zinnia displays floral array.
Zinnia blossoms in many a hue
Some are short, some grow statuesque tall too
Their allure is a delight to behold
A truth that surely cannot be opposed.
Zinnia may grow in field or meadow
Or awesomely gracing gardens also
Dancing queens are Zinnias, proud they sway
When gentle breezes come blowing their way.
Zinnia attracts birds, butterflies, bees
Their nectar and seeds satisfies all needs
Jewels of earth Zinnias truly are
Every single one is a blooming star.
Blue purple bubbles and flames rising every where
The radiant orange yellow brightens the whole background
Intense motions that chases the blue purple bubbles away
The magenta, maroon, red unicorn appears to have fun
Thrashing its mane and tail all around the place
Circular bubbles that show flow in the image going a stray
The red unicorn hoofing the orange yellow air
Constant waves off the tail and mane make it feel free
Bam! It looks to me a bubble hit the unicorns back end
As it got bumped the bubbles seem to keep on floating
Around and around, the red unicorn, it keeps a rhythm
Flowing around the bubbles get altered in different sizes
The finishing touch is how the unicorn looks like a Red Flame
With ember colors all around to keep it rich with warmth
Driving up to the restroom stop for a break,
I slowly got out stretching my achey legs,
this was one long drive during the holidays,
driving up north to see some family in the rain,
After the bathroom went to the vending machine,
where there alongside of it was the ugliest puppy I'd ever seen,
looking like an emaciated mix of collie and bull dog,
its face reminded me of nothing short of a hairy bull frog,
Feeling sorry for it I picked it up and put it in my car,
feeding it fast food leftovers and water we didn't get very far,
stopping at a pet store and buying it food and dog shampoo,
bringing it with me as I checked into the motel room,
Placing it in the tub I gave the ugly, matted flea puppy a warm bath,
shampooing it from head to toe it shaking like it wanted to dash,
finally towel drying it I got the dog brush out,
brushing it for hours trying to get the matted tangles to lay flat,
My arms were achey from the constant brushing,
the puppy looking up at me like she understood,
giving her a hug and a biscuit for being so good,
her hair now had a vibrant sheen to it the color of blonde wood,
Putting a nice pink collar on her was the finishing touch,
I picked her up to admire her and see if there were anymore bugs,
she no longer looked like an ugly abandoned puppy to me,
but cuter than an expensive one you'd see on tv,
My Mom that year had the best Christmas ever,
giving her something alive rather than just another sweater,
waking up that morn to find the puppy under her tree,
all of us running over to it as it started to pee.
12-26-16
Angels shine quite brightly at midnight
causing a storm of bliss and peace to ignite
Raining down slowly come the spiritual snow
landing on people, ending all woe
Moonlight gives off a warm finishing touch
so souls don't worry so much
From this moment forward, tranquility shall last forever
as war won't come back, ever
I’ll Be Ready in Five Minutes, Dear
By Elton Camp
Joe threw on his clothes and ready to go
Sue wasn’t nearly as efficient, though
With a closet filled with clothes,
What should she wear of all those?
She wondered what others might have on
It was nearly time they should be gone
“I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Sue gave her purses a close inspection
Those of the wrong color got rejection
“I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Then her purse, shoes must match
So she searched through a big batch
“I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Her hair she provided a finishing touch
The time required shouldn’t be much
“I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Her make-up had to be just right
Even if the schedule was tight
“I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Poor Joe stalked out of the room
To go sit on a bench and fume
“I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Most husbands, to this can relate
For everywhere they will be late