Best First Poems
The powdery snow gloves the fingers
of maple forest, protecting barren bark
with the expectation of rose tipped bloom.
A meeting point between pristine
innocence and the veiled promise of spring
ripening. Each trunk and limb mirrors
the action of man. Reaching, arching,
swaying, creating aisles of church-like splendor,
a sacrament where the virginal may walk
toward communion with their God. Inward
toward the birth of faith and outward toward
the wedgwood sky in celestial sight.
How beautiful is what I see today
peeking from the green
and almost unseen,
blossoming for me – the first rose of May!
While she’s in the pink,
time is but a blink.
In this merry month, oblivious is she
to what’s to come as she poses prettily -
destiny evading
Her joy for now is sweet. What can she know
of life’s suffering?
She hears robins sing.
On her face, tears are but a dewy glow.
She is hope anew
now that she’s in view!
Will she – like me – feel her soul plunge to sorrow?
Or will I – like her – be until tomorrow
destiny evading. . .
a wish faint and fading?
May 21, 2018 for Broken Wing's "Let Your Pen Drip" Contest
Uses Gregory Barden's invented Qarinage Rhyme Pattern. See notes above.
For 'THE CRAP SHOOT POETRY CONTEST' Poetry Contest of John Lawless
Returning home again after many years away
I find our secret path along the Fundy Bay
That happy place where long ago we played
Where all our dreams and promises were made
Once again I lie down where daises grow
In fields above the banks where salt winds blow
Golden memories rush through my hungry soul
Returning pieces of my heart lost long ago
I close my eyes recalling all the things we did
Just the way they were when we were kids
And I know without a doubt that you are here
As your love for me falls from my eyes in tears
We lie like angels looking up at clouds of cream
As we watch them take the shape of all our dreams
We laugh so hard at all the things we do and say
To us life is just a stage a place to laugh and play
We find the trail that takes us down to meet the ocean
Where we swim in waves of jubilant emotions
Then we walk along the shore together hand-in-hand
And we write our love forever in the sand
Kiss me passionately
Kiss with untetherd lips
Lips that are ripe
Lips that long to know everything
Everything waits for it's time
Everything has possibilities
Possibilities beyond limitations
Possibilities are laying in wait
Wait for me to come to you
Wait for my inexperienced touch
Touch me till you feel my longing
Touch the depth of your own wanting
Wanting and needing
Wanting that hurts
Hurts with a burning pleasure
Hurts with an ancient desire
Desire beyond our understanding
Desire that will not be contained
Contained you have been forced to be
Contained within your fathers image of innocence
Innocence must lead to mutual pleasure
Innocence is the doorway to your awakening
Awakening your true essence
Awakening the power of your being
Being more
Being a true force of your own nature
Nature and nurture
Nature will give way to trancendence
Trancendence to womanhood
Trancendence to your power
Power resides within your spirit
Power caresses your being
Being free to explore
Being aware of the moments
Moments that you will cherish
Moments shared with me
Me who wishes to know you
Me who has waited
Waited for you to be ready
Waited for our wedding day
Day after day imagining
Day and night you are part of my dreams
Dreams do come true
Dreams offer hope
Hope permeates our being
Hope that we will have forever
Forever can be felt in a moment
Forever pulses within your veins
Veins that carry the blood of our children
Moment by moment witness our becoming
For Justin Bordner's innocence contest.
Coffee bean scent still fills the air
with each new sunrise in our log cabin
My arms around me embrace the winds of winters gone.
Every sky-night the glass-pane glows in silent mist
Lunar limbs stream through bedroom blinds
reflecting shadows on empty sheets.
Star clusters shine'bove velvet shores
sand-wish away from my bare toes
Another day, another month, another year
and a thousand thought,
Can't preserve time or make a clone.
First magnolia blooms on a stripped branch
Buzzing bees extract nectar from a moist corolla
Pastel wings flutter on melting icicles
Sunbirds return with a sweet song,
But what is a song without the symphony
What is music with no slow dance.
His hand-pressed petal still marks the chapter
between stained pages
The dusty shelves recall my mind
recall my heart, recall my soul.
For the last time before tomorrow
these eyes would linger ,
Before leaves curl , before buds wither
Before moons move on, and I let go.
Revised repost.
Mementos in a box, from years gone by
Thought to have been disposed of long ago
A glance, when something purple caught my eye
A ribbon from someone I used to know
I gently gave a tug like way back when
It slipped from it's confines just like before
Then instantly relived it all again
And just like her, it leaves me wanting more
But even though it was so delicate
This ribbon in it's femininity
Tied in her hair it looked so elegant
Yet strong enough to bind her memory
This ribbon with it's strength beyond compare
Ties fifty years to my first love affair
By Daniel Turner
My front porch welcomes your return each year.
Built like a Sherman tank with wings - the night
is filled with music to the springtime ear,
the buzz and clatter of your noisy flight.
Announcing to the world it now is June,
you fly into our lives and cast your spell,
reminding us that summer beckons soon -
sweet season of youth's freedom from school bell.
Ah yes, first love that bloomed in June's warm sun -
that first kiss, blushing like a timid squirrel
and holding hands in public with the one
who showed me I could be loved by a girl.
Your tenure brief; then by July's first day,
like childhood and young love, you've flown away.
Submitted to Summertime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
The breeze annoying trees entices me,
I drift away afar to fields abloom,
with silver tongues untied their whispers free—
..ah prairie-weed does burn a sweet perfume.
The flowered spikes do strike a reminisce,
the musky scent upon each purple spear…
your kiss, our bliss… you I miss… you I miss—
I fall upon each heady spear, despite the golden air.
The gilt-edged frills and thrills of summer days— that flutter!
The guilt-wedged sway and suede of lusty meadow sage.
The jilted sun, once young, still shines above the haze— that clutter…
an unfledged page from when we came of age.
I linger lone and lost and loathe the lure of wind
as fuzzy leaves flaunt drizzle beads beneath the clouds chagrined.
If "we" are a sin,
Why is my heart bleeding for you?
Why is my soul screaming out your name?
Chained by the links of horrors that hold me against you,
Towered high up above the ground,
Little did they know I'd crumble every bone just for you.
I would not wish such adversity upon my adversaries, such as the animosity which chastises our hearts.
Every precious petal in my garden has turned black, waiting for your lips to rejuvenate their vibrant hues.
Why must love be cursed by society's blindness,
or has Cupid's ignorance plagued our forbidden fate. Maybe death is the only freedom for our devotion
____________________________________
I
I
I * * * * To my darling !
I * * * *
I * * *
I * *
I * *
I * *
I * *
I *
I
I I just want to say: I LOVE YOU!
I______________________________________
30.04.2013
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.
Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.
Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.
God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."
The clouds were cumulus, which swept the sky above our field.
You and I were happy then. Beneath those clouds we reeled.
Oh, to be there once again: young, alive, and free!
Among the bright wild blooms we swirled down by the azure sea.
Such beauty dwelt inside our world, where land and water mingled.
We stopped to kiss. Inside my skin, my body sweetly tingled!
We looked and saw the tide begin to rise, so hand in hand,
we walked down to the shore and lay, toes touching in the sand.
Watching wavelets gently play as sun‘s last rays were spread
across our beach, we felt new heat beneath a sky turned red.
We sealed our love - with joy replete - when moon brought forth its light!
I wonder - as we both grew cold - embracing through that night,
if you dreamed, too, that we’d grow old together through our lives.
1/29/15
.The first gift of Christmas was love
It was bestowed from above
It was given to all
to both rich and poor
to those who are strong
or who can easily fall
To dark,yellow,and white
To the ones less smart
or those who like first stars shine bright.
To muslims and catholics
buddhists and protestants
To believers and atheists
To the young and the old
To all humankind,to found and lost souls.
The first gift of christmas was love
It was bestowed from above
To those who show compassion
Forgiveness and their care
To those who receive blessings
and know the way to share
To those who look at others
with the warm eyes of a child
and to those who leave an empty space
for our little Jesus Christ.
The first gift of Christmas was love
It was bestowed from above
May We all search deeper
Of this gift be a keeper
May this love transmit joy
that kind of joy which last
That joy radiant on faces
That joy a heart embraces
That joy which comes to visit
and then remain with us.
Happy Christmas
to all my sweet friends
and your families
love you all
Charma.
Take me to the place where the aromatic fragrance
threatens to envelop our obelisks glorifying death;
to the place where the seraphim of old long to steal your breath
only to resurrect you again,
because they adore your shell-shocked epiphany.
The twinkle of wisteria eyes that say star-struck goodbyes to winters long overdue.
Take me to some place new, yet still lingers with the scent of timeless truths.
Can you whisper epigrams in my ears yet still retain your sunflower youth?
And can such a place even exist ...
where I am me and you are you.
Is this dream of ours only a selfish wish?
Where our heart's desires
will never transpire,
but only take cues from Lazarus,
coming into our own like lilac lust.
I am told there is a beautiful gate
that leads to this tomb of ancient bloom.
Will you let me nourish this timid trust
and receive this skeleton key that dreams of wearing skin -
and if not now, of this would-be genesis ... when?
Please don't tease with someday soon,
but let these tumblers unhinge like zealous zephyr.
I know it will be all that you asked.
I know it will be, for my soul spoke so earnestly: give it a chance.
So won't you carve upon this granite heart
that longs for the easy rain of your embrace.
Etch upon these alabaster walls with love's italic hand,
the seven lettered splendor known unabashedly as FREEDOM.
Let it be the only thing
the angels care to dream,
when imagining eternity.
Let none atone
the only thing
set in stone.
Written February 15th, 2016.
Entered in the contest A Tomb of Ancient Bloom hosted by Justin Bordner.
Chosen Poem of the Day on February 17th, 2016
Placed First
Wandering my maze of memories
In search of yesteryear
The spark she struck within my heart
Still burns in spite of tears
Hand in hand we walked the halls
Young love boldly displayed
The classes we shared
The moments we snared
Our two hearts swept away
That Saturday picnic in the spring
'Neath the canopy of juniper trees
Our first forbidden lovers' touch
No other eyes could see
Innocence lost in a tender embrace
For us there was no doubt
Time stood still the fire burned hot
The breeze could not put out
It must have angered the powers that be
Our love was unrequited
A storm blew in the rain put out
The flame which we'd ignited
Our love was blind
Fate was unkind
A love not meant to be
That memory branded in my mind
How cruel love was to me
an original poem by Daniel Turner