Best Fondled Poems
sweet and citron voice, fondled a whisper
did you say, "O my Love, pulling me close
refreshing spring water, cooler and crisper
restless eyes now crave, to forever repose
a vista of orchids, into my soul you dive
where a frantic heart, beats in your fervour
No more secrets, so effortlessly you arrive
in every corner, dreams in vain endeavour
in swarm of thousand kisses, I slowly melt
impetuous arms hug, a wild maddened sea
faintly glowing cinder, every cell now felt
an embrace, in your lockup, you set me free
Dated 7th June 2020
Featured third in best new poem list
Sponsor craig cornish
Contest Name Hugs |
Categories:
fondled, cute love, love, passion,
Form:
Rhyme
Too many cold nights
would follow these hours
FIrst frost will destroy
the blooming moonflowers
Because,WInter goes and WInter comes
Snowflakes melt our paper hearts
I want to preserve moments
before they' ll be the past
I just want to hold you
and make each second last
I want to taste your sweet words
breathing velvets on my lips
I want to feel your kisses
treading softly on my hips
I need to hear your lyrics
whispered in my ear
I want to let my hair down
cascading on your tear
I want to beg for your love
Be fondled by your touch
Want you to give me butterflies
Tickle and make me blush
I don' t want to make memories
But you won't be here
One day I'd call your name
pretending you're still there
Too many cold nights
would follow these hours
FIrst frost will destroy
the blooming moonflowers
Because,WInter goes and WInter comes
Snowflakes melt our paper hearts
Wet rain will cover palm prints
in the forgotten sand
New fingers trace your laugh lines
where I no longer stand
Stars wouldn't recall our waltz dance
and places that we've been
They won't remember falling
in once upon a dream
Categories:
fondled, blue, life, love,
Form:
Lyric
When its time to for him to sail away
like wind-blown leaves and cherry blossoms drifting in the lake
When He journeys far,as far as moons to reach
When He forgets the fragrance of Her hair
and how She tasted 'neath fresh linen sheets
When He forgets the sweetness of her name
and all the thousand ways She loved him through each day
Its then,She will remember each promise they concealed
Its then when She would whisper,'Come back and lay with me
Come close ,and tread all solitude beneath your tired feet
Look deep into these eyes and tell me what you see.
Tell me,are your nights long,are they vacant and cold
Or do the tea-light candles still glow to keep you warm?'
Its then where She would whisper ,'Come back and lay with me
Embraced by open arms is where you ought to be'
But whispers slowly fade like ripples of fresh rain
that once flooded this heart,then dried like ash of grey .
Her whispers go unanswered,His silence will prevail
His cheeks won't feel each tear drop,His heart buries the pain.
His mind rejects the memory and moments they have shared
But thoughts keep spreading freely like wings of soaring birds
Thoughts will keep returning, years after His regrets
Recalling yester's green fields and a lady with a hat
A lady on a blanket,hands wrapped around her knees
His shoes right there beside her,a fondled kiss in breeze.
She must have been the one...All along She was the one
The girl that keeps on living ,the shadow in his dreams....
The girl that keeps on playing ,pressing his piano keys.
Inspired by Alexis 'Contest ...and by Elton John's Song - The One..(Not for contest)
Categories:
fondled, absence, feelings,
Form:
Lyric
By committing to nothing, one retains infinite options.
I have hid inside these words for moons and seasons and New Year’s toasts.
The lone wolf roams fertile pastures unfettered.
The thrill of the hunt.
The chase.
An empty bed is the hope of a new body’s sleeping curve.
Tomorrow becomes yesterday.
“The mystery of mysteries is the gateway to marvels.”
I stopped looking long ago.
The faces have blurred into a montage of emptiness.
Come and go; came and went.
I never bothered much to be bothered.
There aren’t many memories
And I am thankful for that.
Wet fingers and licked lips’
Blood on my hands.
Wasted time.
The years run on like a favorite sitcom gone bad.
It all should have been retired years ago.
It is easier to stay afloat and roam the big waters alone
Than set up camp on an island and face a face.
No problems.
No worries.
No connection.
Freedom is all that you cannot commit to
And who surrenders to nothing is he who lives in frigid shadows of fear.
Maybe I have never truly known warmth.
I walk the streets like a war-worn shoulder.
A little cold, a little distant, a little too silent.
The words I have are recycled fragments of someone else’s life.
I don’t offer much.
Poker face.
Can you read my concrete stare?
I have an entire universe hiding in my back pocket
But I’m scared to show you.
It’s been so long since I groped or even fondled my own life.
I’m not sure what I do or don’t have to offer.
I just keep making bets and upping the ante.
Categories:
fondled, angst, confusion, inspirational, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
As I sat on the bed, and opened the box
I fondled the keepsake, in the palm of my hand
It is tied to a youth that I never lost
Often the memories may be callused by time
Some have been polished. Tho' some may be gone
into the reverie, where I cannot climb
Smooth as the dream, that I've kept like a glove,
wrapped tightly in tissue, and precious to hold,
is one little stone of no value, but love
With a glint of the morning, and the blue of the sky
sapphire veins, and gold undertones.
Inside are hints of a story once told
The heat can be captured like a piece of the sun
I remember a day, with a radiant glow
when the ocean was changing, and storms on the way
Thundering sounds, and in-coming waves
that swept us away, to world of our own
It washed up from nowhere, and you reached with your hand
and picked up this keepsake, to put in my own
The memory lingers, re-savored, when found
A stone of no worth, except for the love
There in the sand, as if it were gold
much brighter with colors, than all other stones
A talisman treasure that I'll always own
Shaped smooth by time, and polished by tides
Taking me back to the glint in your eyes
___________________________
1/22/16
Categories:
fondled, love, youth,
Form:
Free verse
Chaste eyes trace my limbs, in the deep of woods
swerving like a breeze moist on fields of grass,
His Latin fire, on edge of twilight moods.
Shape of curves fondled like tender morass,
the call of moaning sprawls into full grind
swerving like a breeze moist on fields of grass
Although he’s roamed my shore , gentle and kind
I still pulsate where musk scent trails. Outside,
the call of moaning sprawls into full grind
My fiery sighs reflect a wilder croon
holding breaths captive in a mesh; a glide
of movement’s tempo sing to rising moon
And kindling now our chaste eyes, they abide
love’s virtue wafts from wings of night;
to hold breaths captive in sweet flow, a glide!
Inhabiting one space where gazes meet
Chaste eyes trace my limbs, in deep of woods...
Love’s virtue blazes skin from curl of sheets
His Latin fire, on edge of twilight moods.
The simple times remembered are worthwhile.
Those memories are treasured gifts to keep.
We were innocent and lived without guile.
---------
Inspiration from Nobel Prize poet,
Pablo Neruda from Chile. Excerpts from
his poem 'Ode to Naked Beauty' follows:
Ode To A Naked Beauty
With chaste heart, and pure
eyes
I celebrate you, my beauty,
restraining my blood
so that the line
surges and follows
your contour,
and you bed yourself in my verse,
as in woodland, or wave-spume:
earth's perfume,
sea's music.
----
Terzanelle Time for Joseph May
Old poem Re-submitted 11/8/2017
Categories:
fondled, love, passion,
Form:
Terzanelle
My heart is not an object
but it can feel every word you say
My heart cant be held nor fondled
but it is touched by you each day
My heart can't bleed or break in two
but it cries out loud for your I love you's
My heart can't hide in the shadows
it isn't worn out upon my sleeve
My heart can't be ripped out
turn blackened or dead
nor take over for thoughts in my head.
My heart is not an object
but for you it fondly beats
when you come close
and squeeze me real tight
it thumps ever so sweet
Categories:
fondled, heart, love,
Form:
Rhyme
She is the fish-maiden of the night,
a temptress that croons to the sky
wading on gills of fondled thoughts,
the bearer of one fine shipmate’s doom
coasting on forbidden passion and trance.
On waters’ edge before the stars pale,
her body swivels before an ensnared time
of charmed maneuver , a hesitant prowl;
till the gentle fondness weeps a lonely desire.
Laying her man on the crib of soft navel
an aching dusk breaks a mermaid's tune ;
his breath gasping against the shore
while she clings to a howling wind,
pleading for rescue into deep cave of moss.
Suzanne Delaney's Mermaids
new poem
Categories:
fondled, sea, song, sorrow,
Form:
Free verse
Outside the walls stood a handmaiden gazing
Twisting her skirt between fingers so frail
Patches of burlap were sewn on the garment
Cut from a sack of a barley oat bale
Oh how she dreamed of the opulent palace
Silver and gold and the finest of lace
Gowns made of velvet with ribbons of satin
She spun around with a smile on her face
As if a princess, her blonde hair a flowing
Blue skies above now the tint of her eyes
Hearing a song on the early spring breezes
Never once noticed the coming surprise
Then saw him on horseback and blushed like a petal
Found on the reddest of roses that grew
Knee bent to curtsey, feeling embarrassed
Knowing this gesture is what she should do
“Good day my fair maiden, your dance was enchanting”
He said as he smiled, his kindness was felt
“So sorry my prince, I did not see you coming”
Again on the soil before him she knelt
“Rise up,” he said as he slid from the saddle
“There is no need for such formality,
for one of such beauty tis I who should bow”
Saying this he touched the earth with one knee
Once more she blushed like an apricot sunrise
Standing he reached out and taking her hand
Wondered, “What brings you by here on this morning,
adding such loveliness to our fine land?”
“Your majesty, I’m but a servant daydreaming,
Seeing myself quite the belle of the ball
Very much childish I know you are thinking
For I belong far outside this great wall”
He pondered a moment, his chin now he fondled
Suddenly grinned with the happiest glance
“Well now fair maiden, if thou would permit me
Please be my guest at this evening’s spring dance?”
“Oh handsome prince I could not even think it
Look at my dress, I have nothing to wear
Merely these rags and an old pair of high tops
Never to mention the state of my hair”
“Never you mind and I kind of like high tops
Maybe some jeans and a tank top in red
Pull your hair back and it will be perfect
Nothing you’ll need when we climb into bed”
“What’s that you say, you want sex after dancing
Beat it you creep, I’m abreast of your game
I’ll spread these legs not for anyone fancy
Damn it, you men, every one is the same”
As he departed, rejected and sneering
She stomped away feeling angry and mean
So here you find such an unhappy ending
The truth is she only had eyes for the queen
Categories:
fondled, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
The curtains riffled by a breeze, intrudes upon the solitude
....Please, let us warn them, if we must, to restrain the hour once again,
for we intrust to weave this time to be our sacred interlude
So, a dawning sun lays softly still, resting on the golden hills
softer than a white moth's wing, ... sifting light upon the sill
Your hands are guided by the dawn...
no use pretending we will rise, to view the morning sun...
Or that we choose this time to sleep for, less than that,
which claims the heart,... comes wild with strokes of fondled touch
the essence, of ecstatic love, ... as old as time itself
And as for now, ...desire's plea,
demands the trace upon my face,
while other needs will beckon thee
to trace thy fingers eagerly, .... across my bone and flesh
I beg of thee, suspend all time, ...with nothing spared
content to hold our secret nest, ...against the dawn of time
Caressed, by daylight on the crest
a fading moon, will find retreat
as the sun delays, without defeat,... where it remains, in compromise
Your whispered breath, upon my ear
will halt the sun, from coming near, ... until we fill our love complete...
..... and then it will arrive
____________________________________________________________________
For Nette Onclaud's Contest: "Softly Sensual"
By Carrie Richards ... 8/24/13
Categories:
fondled, love, morning, passion,
Form:
Free verse
I flip the history of Bojangles
On a cool Sunday evening
Los Angeles coming down
A flow of oboes breathing
Through the lung of the street
The hobo not stopping for air
Fingers moving in a dance
Across the strings of consciousness
Milking the music of his brain
Onto a breast
Of dilated ears.
Mr. Lopez, unsettled from his comfortable chair
Searching for something to tell
Against the neon of despair
Heard the dulcimer quelling hell
And saw himself standing bare
To the sheetless eyes
Of a man serenading Beethoven
Deaf as a statue
In the city's superfluous air.
Here is where humanity
Sings hope amidst the garden
Of hopelessness
That make direlict dreams
Tugging our divinity
Down to rags of nothingness.
Mr. Ayers, a quaver away
Juliard school in love aspiring
Suddenly there fallen
Amidst the glitter and glamor
Of non-existence
Peace, a basoon
Seducing a Los Angeles moon
Coy as a lover
In the tangle of wine memory
He plays against
The unkown sorrow of the world.
And here dedication
Drives us to distraction
Soon or late
Decomposing our minds
Into shards of glistening memories.
Discovery, today beholding yesterday
A bride for the first time
Amidst the silence of flowers
Cradling weeds and seeds of tomorrow.
Love without purpose
Can change the course
Of splintering history.
He plays, harmony
In where the traffic blares
Yellow light onto his gray matter
Splitting airs with sharp sounds
They echo
Not the common pit, nor
To a single Maestro blending
The mind's kaleidoscope
Before the other's saner wit
Along highways and wind tunnels
He brings to a sombre note
To ode all joys
Strugling repressed under
Human ambition
Ayers is my minstrel
Jarred by a nerve
Not wired for sleep.
Fortune smiles
From the frontier of friendhsips
Fondled by the music
Of love unfranchised
Awakes the lyre
To sing in the resurrection of desire.
Friendship is a sheltering tree
From life's base tragedies.
Categories:
fondled, friendshiplove,
Form:
Free verse
I brushed aside
My faraway glimpses,
The many consequences
Of trifle revelries I wasted
Grasping the snippets of night time
And all abandoned pining.
Bouquets of fondled whispers dangled
Among damp stems along Riviera beach,
Still molding flit kisses in balmy shades
That stretched on coasts of sudden farewells.
Make Love To Me In That Ancient Place Contest
Categories:
fondled, absence, how i feel,
Form:
Light Verse
Mom’s garden blushed with flowers on our lawn
Recalling youth’s zest of fancy-free tread:
I stand here by an old lamppost , in thought
And imagine dewed clusters overhead.
How I loved jasmines fondled by the breeze,
Where treetops glow with moonlit autumn skies
That forever mark a part of charm in me…
Oh, sweet are memories from joyful eyes.
Although walls have crumbled under time’s hand
Those blooms still grace remains of long ago;
As every scent, petal fills my yearning heart
When I see jasmines through all seasons’ flow.
9/4/2017
Bittersweet Contest for Kevin Shaw
Categories:
fondled, flower, longing, sweet,
Form:
Rhyme
~
A broken torpedo got wedged in my eye,
making me squint out some tea
Laughed at a submarine sauntering by,
hoagies afloat on the sea
Gathering minnows from dams ‘bout to break,
opening flood gates again
Stood midst a puddle dressed up like a lake,
watching a red herring trend
Drove to the village where parrots can sing,
lyrics in cracker crumb chords
Clarinet solos encrusted with bling,
blended with Chevys or Fords
Fell off the wagon as drunk as a dog,
staggering, swaggering tail
Some call it beer but to me it’s called grog,
others will shout out, “it’s ale”
Snuck through the door where the hairdresser sleeps,
fondled her comb and her brush
Searched for the broom that her half-sister keeps,
swept but there wasn’t a rush
Gather your hopes in a jar on the sill,
pay past-due taxes on time
Ignore this verse, it is meant as a fill,
another stanza of rhyme
So here we have it, whatever you find,
words I decided to write
Merely a world that exists in my mind,
keeping me up late at night
Hoping for meanings as words start to dance,
all to a random request
Not even this has the faintest of chance,
I think it’s time for a rest
~
Categories:
fondled, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
The wind would blow alluring strands of your soul, tickling seductively,
weaving like a candle flame lyric, where it danced provocatively.
You fondled the depth whirling to the surface edge taking a little
hope with you; then flew away. You cannot ask and then leave me brittle.
You were quicksand that made me sink. But the thunder that's a part of me
has shut the door to doubts, fears, and impulsive desires to set me free.
6/18/2018
Categories:
fondled, desire, freedom, imagery, lost
Form:
Rhyme