Best Fireflies Poems
It's so dark outside, my eyes can't distinguish where sand meets water. Somehow, dusk has come and gone, plunging the evening into darkness.
But even as my eyes yield to this opaque absence of light, my other senses heighten. I can hear the crash of waves as they abuse the shoreline, sending foaming water up the beach in icy streams. I'm lulled by the sound of polished pebbles colliding like marbles as they recede with the waves. I can feel the sea's cool mist against my face, taste its salt on my lips. The scent of seaweed drifts on the breeze in gentle wafts - and then, slowly, the faintest whiff of smoke.
I glance over my shoulder, where a tiny dot of light penetrates the darkness. It's a beacon on this cool night, and I walk slowly toward it, digging my toes into the soft sand with each step.
dim moonlight
peeks through thinning clouds--
fire crackles
He's still there, stoking the fire, feeding the flames until the heat is tangible. The air wavers between us like a veil - a line I want to cross. He stirs up clouds of smoke, stirring feelings within me as I watch his busy hands. I wait patiently for him to notice my approach, and when he does, my breath catches.
rainbow flames
burst from seasoned maple--
blue eyes sparkle
I watch golden light flicker across his skin, softening the lines of his face. He abandons his task, moving around the fire until he stands before me, smiling as if he knows my heart is thundering in my chest.
He waits for a painstaking moment to pass. Then he kisses me with toasted marshmallow lips, pulling me down into his lap to watch the sparks rise like fireflies into the breathless night.
Night fell,
Summer’s heat abating,
I sat leaning against a tall magnolia,
Its fragrance spreading everywhere
Like echoes of whispering breezes.
Despite all I could not rest and sleep.
The moon and stars were invisible now,
But darkness could not cover the glade.
Fireflies flittered here and there, glowing.
I was mesmerised by the fireworks of the night.
Suddenly I heard a delicate delicious melody.
Was it the fireflies orchestrating their symphony?
Soft enchanting tunes enticed the whole glen.
Could this be a dream descended from the hidden stars?
The melody changed, cadences tuned up and down,
The fragrance of the magnolia increased,
The moon appeared and all was bright.
Butterflies flew all around. Or were they fairies?
I could not tell for suddenly my eyes became heavy
And blissfully I slept as joyfully I dreamt.
My head feels like it's being squeezed in a vise. Eardrums must have blown out from the explosion since I hear absolutely nothing, not even my own breath. Slowly rising to my feet I survey the damage. Left arm gone from the elbow down. Flesh hangs from my right forearm exposing bone and sinew. I don't even want to know what my face looks like but my cheeks are burning white hot.
Suddenly, I am keenly aware of the immediate surroundings. The twenty story office building I call my second home is utterly destroyed. Smoke and haze are everywhere. An acrid odor fills my nostrils with each breath. Scanning the vicinity I see body parts strewn about. The urge to vomit overwhelms me. Afterward, I begin to shake and sob uncontrollably. My God, why?
Home is five blocks away. My wife, my daughter are they alive? No idea how many bombs were dropped. Must get home. Each step brings excruciating pain, but the adrenalin pulsing through my veins impels me forward. Finally reaching my neighborhood, it quickly becomes evident that it too was targeted. Rubble and debris surrounds me. In the distance, what was my house, leveled to the ground. The cries, the screams of others sifting through the debris make me question my sanity did my hearing return or are the screams in my head?
Reality sets in coldly as I discover the bodies of my family, partially buried under the rubble. I have no more tears in this moment. Instead, my mind drifts back to former days happy times. Myself, Najwa and baby, lying in our back yard on a comfy blanket, staring up at the stars, watching the fireflies softly flicker in a dreamy, summer night sky. We had peace then. Now there is nothing but bitterness and hatred in my heart. I gaze at the sky, now black as sin. All the stars are there. But the fireflies they're gone. I can't help but wonder, what will become of me?
Flicker flicker fly
Stars above to light the sky
Angels weep goodbye
O to be in England
in the early days of spring
when the golden daffodils
steal the heart and make it sing.
Roaming the Lake District
far away from urban noise,
by cascading waterfalls
enamoured of nature’s voice.
Up the craggy mountains
or on hills in shades of green,
watch the sun as down it slides
veiling tarns with sanguine sheen.
O to be there with you
holding hands in amber light
basked in aural twilight field;
daylight melting into night.
Fireflies or fairies
My mind cannot well discern.
Feelings surge within my soul,
Nature sighs with me and yearns.
Time and breath both bated
as your lips touch mine with bliss;
stars aflutter, for they know
Love is born with your sweet kiss.
A Callman Collaboration (Paul Callus and Eileen Manassian)
She's a halo of hope,
fulfilled by fireflies, shedding her soul in sage seas ~
stars elope...
roaring wolf rife,
a forest flutter of rose seeds ~
she's life...
heart stirs
fairy floss dreams,
b l u r s
she's a halo of hope,
a forest flutter of rose seeds ~
blurs...
These are the times you wish
you could pack it all up and be a kid again:
Take me away from the Now
and into the Then
(that's where I wish to descend)
Back when it was all so crystal clear-
just one emotion to steer the gears,
whether wafflewonder days
or weepywillow nights
(no nuance, no twilight)
Just perfect joys and poignant fears.
Happiness like butterflies-in-sunshine,
hopscotch-in-the-rain;
sadness a gray cloud to shut out the world
(the dust getting blown away, like autumn leaves,
from Monopoly)
The world was something to See.
Yourself someone to Be.
From the moment the eye closed
to the instant it opened...
... resurrection.
The monsters were beneath the bed, or in the closet--
(never once hiding in our reflection)
No possessions to speak of or concern us,
but we had Gold in our laugh,
a Sharpness to our gaze,
and a Sureness to our step,
from one emotion to the next
with no discernible causation.
"I am HERE!" shouted the feeling
without hesitation
(this, of course, the norm
before they gathered in committees
to make a sensible decision)
We were Fireflies--
sometimes on,
sometimes off ... but we always BURNED.
Didn't care a lick about the darkness
that grew weary of our light;
because we said what we meant
and meant what we said
(didn't hide from the Truth--
we were already free
to be Me,
to be You)
But the years soon passed as they so often do.
The adrenaline rush to adulthood finally came,
I can see it peak over the horizon
(...but I'm not Roller-coaster Ready...)
Yet here I descend into that maelstrom
where the colors twist and blur with every turn, jolting us here, jolting us
there
into that rickety reality,
reminding us our mortality
(Death just sitting there smiling that ancient fear)
We are all of us, strapped to the cart,
with nothing but our beating hearts.
And no one knows where it's going, but we're here.
Arms raised high until we die
(at least that's what my intuition is showing)
--
I now wave to the school bus
filled with adults-in-waiting
wishing I didn't know what I know
(someday soon,
perchance tomorrow, perchance the next,
that sunflower certainty
is sure to go)
"You're all too young
to not take in the sun.
Don't shed a tear,
enjoy it while it's here."
if you and i
were both fireflies
singing to the choir
light up the night
put us in a jar
by the bedside
naturally we'd be
a bright night light
you and i
would dance in time
to the flickering beat
of our tail lights
the glow serene
a wonderful sight
if you and i
were both fireflies
They float dreamily through the summer night,
Across a soft, sky-lit sunset of red,
And their backs glow with a green colored light.
A fire in the woods is burning so bright,
Now that the true heat of the day has fled,
They float dreamily through the summer night.
From the trees in the forest they take flight,
Moving towards the shore of the lake instead,
And their backs glow with a green colored light.
Flying further now - intrigued by the sight
Of the cabin where their travels have led -
They float dreamily through the summer night.
A bright full moon gently bathes them in white,
As they fly past a window by the bed,
And their backs glow with a green colored light.
They circle through the air as we sleep tight,
Now dreaming of the cooler days ahead.
They float dreamily through the summer night,
And their backs glow with a green colored light.
© 2016
My love,
the depth of my fervor is without measure
you are the face that illuminates the darkness
you are the eyes filled with fireflies
their gleamy glows fill love's misty realms
you cause my heart to quiver importing me to dreamland
where we'll accommodate ourselves on some barren shore
as lovers...in a warm passionate embrace
freed from the burdens of the world
perhaps...taste our lips melting in another time and place
where we'll glide to the stars on wishes and wings of golden memories
we'll claim the nights as dreamers
whose pockets are filled with poems...written by our souls
when we learned to cross the bridge to ambrosial sighs
treasured by lovers...
joined by our fate before our shadows fall upon our footprints
and we vanish in the gray twilight of our time on Earth
9/7/18 contest Verses of Metaphors II
The Faded Garden Swing
If the flaked paint on the old swing
could speak, it would tell stories of
days long ago,
Of children's laughter and their bare,
muddy feet,
Of fireflies caught and imprisoned in
empty jam jars,
Like the fireflies, my memory flickers,
trying to recall who lived across the
street.
The faded swing’s rusty chains creaked
loudly under my weight, an old familiar
song,
And the scent in the air from the aged
honeysuckle, still going strong,
An old familiar perfume of yesteryear,
At this moment, suspended between
the then and now, time stands still.
Once the echoes of children’s giggles,
now a silent yard,
Images of scraped knees, loud cries
and a lemonade stall,
In the distance, the sound of an old
church bell rings,
Here, on this faded garden swing,
I sit in the past with the weight of
what was and of what can never be
again.
Now, shadows linger in silence,
Where children once soared with
dreams,
Oh, faded swing, a keeper of stories
of joy and pain,
You hold the essence where memories
remain,
At last, I am home, in the place where
time stands still.
Sunset.
Darkness quickly descends.
I feel like dancing on my large lawn.
Astonished I admire
the rise of fantastic fireflies.
Such beauty usurps my breath.
Fireflies waltz in weightless wonder.
How can I not dance with them!
A sensual stance that throbs my heart
I wonder if they are nymphs or insects.
Who cares, once beauty fills the night.
Silent, silver dots fill the night with pleasant patterns.
Ethereal elements envelop the air.
I sit down and enjoy the dreamy dance.
Until the sweet summer heat lull me down to dream.
Tonight, of all nights, I catch the falling sky
while the world spins off it's axis out the corner of my eye
My room is barely lit by a single firefly
as I blow the trees off mountains with a singulary sigh.
The resin of the moon is the shadow of my face
The stars collide and sprinkle dust to make their big escape
They land among the treetops as an ember burnt through space
curling ribbons in the leaves at a wilted sparkler's pace.
Climb my psyche if you will
spin the world backwards better still
tear me off a sapphire pill
to fix this woe that's made me ill.
Tonight, of all nights, I say good bye
as the weight off my back gently slides
I still have that light from my firefly
so if you don't mind now I'll close my eyes...
Sad clown sitting in a downpour.
Washing away the plastic smiles and squirting flowers,
cherry nose cascading down the drain.
He Tosses the big clown feet to the shoeless urchin on the street
and his silly horn goes to the one everyone ignores,
Sad clown sitting in a downpour.
Now he's heading for the deepest woods
a two-thousand-year-old tree-tomorrow singing in the boughs,
near a virgin pond where he splashes the make-up away
and slaps a genuine smile back into his face.
Turning in for the night-under a roof of starlight
settling the score with his plastic smile life,
He's always been just a plain man, chatting with fireflies.
moon sheer twilight pink
on top of that grey building
roses blush ruby
fireflies flutter buzz
in somber darkness twinkle
willow leaves pray hushed
August 20, 2021
Stoplight Fireflies
Stoplight fireflies blink yellow
over vacant intersections
Owls whisper on the mist
mime-like field mice listen
Soft surf muffles side step
clatter of crab legs
Feral eyes swallow
waning moonlight
A possum waddles beneath
blinking yellow fireflies.
©John G. Lawless
4/3/2017