Best Fringed Poems
He lay outside on the cellar door one day
Lazy gazing at the sky
A child a dutiful child
Before he knew clouds move or why
Those scattered billows grey fringed hung high
It was late afternoon with ghostly moon
The lively honey bees some suspended sip then buzzzzzzz zip!
He's heard from experienced older folk
The earth years from the sun goes round
Dreamy following eyes go round and round
On carousel astride mind's steed he's off the ground
Gently rocking lifting on that waving sea
This quite a vital sort of primal ecstasy
Clouds and festivals Picassoette surreal
That music in the air nature's breath infects the skin the veins
Ah those few moments so rare so hauntingly spare........
When the screen door creaks open he shivers!
then
Mother calls him in to dinner
Categories:
fringed, childhood, fantasy
Form:
Free verse
In silent hours till nightfall
When shadows grow long before fading
Heart thumps, a deep longing,
a soft knocking on a door still closed
Shy and introverted
As if saying: if I knock too hard
will I knock you over
and send you away forever?
I listen quietly as moon light
creates lonely silhouettes
on the far wall where your picture hung,
a faded rectangle, bleached by evasive desires
wondering who could be knocking
as I have been lost for so long,
to be found again is as frightening,
as it is dream-like
Fear to open the rusty door
to a heart, starving to find you.
Caught in a lullaby of moonlight
louder than fear can sing
Reunite me with you, hammer
your imprint in me, on the
bare walls of my loving soul
where you still live
And I hear the breathing
in a once empty corridor of numbers
random order, tarnished brass digits,
above patterned carpeting
foot worn and tattered,
I have heard them all, never once
stopping at mine, the one without,
unassuming, invisible to most,
slowly opening
Near the defensive rectangled door
I sit fending the creaking,
of the almost lost voice that's mine.
And while I search on the worn wall for
fringed marks of years past, you enter.
I find in your face the wrinkles
of time, wondrous ripples in a soft smile
And I am lost in you.
***
Copyright © Chris Green and Darren White
May 3, 2017
Categories:
fringed, love, metaphor, , Lullaby,
Form:
Free verse
Spontaneous ladies,
embellished by eons,
illusive, enchanting,
with black velvet "eyes,"
and fringed yellow cloaks,
sparkling with diamonds
at midnight and dawn,
Oh, fly me away from
my grey-flooded days,
from the four-lane race
and the file drawer maze.
Fly me away from
the chain of the clock
and the sink of necessities.
Bring me in spirit
to magical rendezvous,
to dance by the glint
of the moon on the marsh,
hiding from fireflies,
nudging antennas.
Categories:
fringed, butterfly, fantasy, imagination, magic,
Form:
Free verse
"Syzygy"
Behind the wet dunes
fringed with seagrass
a blood crescent
kisses the forehead
of dreamer traversed
twin aeon syzygy
barefeet the velvet
sophia imprints
softly speak
like words seen
dancing across
the place between
heaven and earth
mapping deviations
non-standard
calibrating alignment
played forward through
unchartered jaded
emerald forests
where the satin skin
becomes sparkling
crystalline it shatters
like a shell disgarded, then
the body of no substance
becomes transparent
enveloped in rapturous
Devabani heralding
commands cast
from divine throats
lutes and sitars
whirling nightingales
dervishes wingspanned
accompany angelic legions
the journey melts into
deep blue mysterious oceans
easily walked, hypnotic the
transparent beckoning,
this is the way come,
come, come closer
closer, come forward,
on higher Elysian steppes
the bride smiles
an unspoken secret
and turns
the eyes are
twin windows
like doorways
opening
swallowing
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Categories:
fringed, dream, muse, mystery,
Form:
Narrative
Not just the sky itself—they are every ocean and stream—
filled with reflections of rainbows, waterfalls and rain.
Windows of beauty fringed in verdant shades of green.
Not a trace of sadness shows for things that cause her pain.
Her eyes, serenely soft, are sacred, mystic jewels.
Forever and beyond they always will remain.
Content within her powers of evergreen renewal,
her eyes reflect and sparkle with all of nature’s hues.
Wisdom of aeons — their provident accrual.
Her eyes —a wellspring of every artist’s muse—
like a mother giving from her immeasurable heart.
All this she imparts—yet we never pay the dues.
These eyes, so beautiful, her children fill with hurt.
Beware—her precious gaze—some day she will avert.
Categories:
fringed, allegory, beauty, earth, irony,
Form:
Terza Rima
sparkling dancing sea waves touch the shore with flowing magic
of cobalt blue filaments that reflect the sky above
oh endless the huge expanses of pristine shoreline
and the jagged seaward cliffs where cormants and auks nest
wild deep and cold oh restless the rising tide . . .
a cool wind whips off the sea and gulls call
the fishing pier lonely of fishermen this morn'
boardwalks a vast emptiness
foraging albotrosses glide then plunge into the sea
sea waves crashing on weathered rocks in an endless rolling
gentle foaming changes to wild thunder
and yet serene the sea shore view to me
I stayed with the crashing till the last rays of sunset
that fringed the horizon then dipped and fell . . .
and in the moonlight the shore is darkly elusive
with hidden life and I drink the tranquility
this mysterious vastness of endless sand and views
and always in the background those unending waves
caressing
the sea shore . . .
___________________________
February 1, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/The Sea Shore
Copyright Protected, ID 16-750-997-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, The Sea Shore
Sponsor, Craig Cornish
Honorable Mention
Categories:
fringed, sea,
Form:
Free verse
If you go downtown early morning
You can see the shopkeepers setting
Old treasures on the sidewalk,
Writing their welcomes with chalk
On little standing blackboards,
Inviting you inside their stores.
Honeysuckle Antiques has its window
Filled with newfound things to show,
Local crafts and the latest junk,
A fringed lampshade and leather trunks.
Its storefront arranged with trifle clutter,
Metal lawn chairs and wooden ladders.
A rusted garden rake’s crooked grin
Begs you to come shop within.
A copper cowbell rings above the door
As dust scurries across a creaking floor.
Greetings from a curvy dressmaker’s bodice,
Empty coke bottles sold by the case.
The moment you enter you’re lost in time.
You never know what you may find;
A stack of old suitcases eager to travel,
Tiny dishes all the way from China,
A basket full of skeleton keys
Or an old black Singer sewing machine.
So many things lost and forgotten;
A lady’s hat pin, hundreds of buttons
Peer through the green glass of Mason jars,
A boy’s prize collection of toy metal cars,
Polaroid cameras and a reel to reel,
A pair of broken red wagon wheels.
Everyone’s favorite, a brown Teddy bear,
A no-longer-needed baby high chair,
Piles of silver spoons, a tarnished pocket watch;
Its workings inside have ground to a halt.
Someone’s keepsake once shiny and new,
Time of death; twelve thirty-two.
Overhead, a beautiful lead chandelier
Sparkles “I don’t belong here.
Take me with you when you go.”
Shelves lined with items needing a home.
Cramped, dusty isles you wander around
Through all the lost and all the found.
Then persuasive orphans catch your eye;
A porcelain doll sitting way up high,
Sad, in her torn and faded dress
Next to some pink Depression glass.
“Take me with you when you go.”
Beg the doll and the bowl.
Categories:
fringed, adventure, america, nostalgia, remember,
Form:
Verse
A short pleasant drive through the pathway
Between the impenetrable woodlands lying untamed -
Cradled by soft wind, the scenic lush foliage I gaped at
During my recent visit to my homeland
Enriched and cheered my dreary mind;
Fresh breeze, so pure, gently tousled my hair
Giving me a feel that right then I was
Heading towards a heavenly hamlet; the
Idyllic green cover was embellished with mangoes, enormous and
Jackfruits, huge. The flowering trees with vivid blooms formed a
Kaleidoscope of colours glinting in soft sunlight after a drizzle;
Lofty trees shaped a canopy of leaves, so artistic, and glued
My eyes to its pristine rustic charming beauty:
No wonder this land is called ‘God’s Own Country’ -
Of all the beautiful places, here is Nature at Her best!
Ponds, lakes and streams were fringed with long
Queues of coconut trees, some leaning over the lakes -
Reflecting and glistening in the water below;
Shh! The soft silvery clouds and the misty hills seemed
To be engaged in a cosy-chat - so dreamy and enchanting;
Upon the luxuriant land sprawled large spindly rubber trees -
Verdurous, lined up in orderly rows - so mystic - as if
Wishing to whisper a secret in my ears. Listening to
Xylophone music from my son’s mobile, so peaceful, my mind
Yearned to glance more at Her graceful face!...as the
Zig-zag road, untiring, unfurled before my eyes, with its twists and turns.
Date: 06/23/2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Categories:
fringed, nature,
Form:
Abecedarian
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[ ||||| ]
[ ||||| ]
My Quaint Cottage
The quaintness of my cottage
Is idyllic in my sweet resting thoughts.
My miniature garden rarely noticed by one
Is garlanded with fenced shrubs and flowery visions.
My orange clustered tree
Showers } { its love
onto my } { cascade
of verses } { as I rest
against } { its sturdy
bark on } {a silent day
My green walled cottage is sewn intricately with ivy
Leaving an
Arched door
Open Fringed
With fresh roses
Attracting the
Honey suckles
Hanging in air
Fluttering
Their wings
For ## but # one ## sip
In ## my ##### garden
Of # b# l #o # o # m # s
FIRST
Balveen Cheema
October 24, 2015
Judged
Contest: Creative Layouts
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Categories:
fringed, flower, house,
Form:
Concrete
Fringed by colored trees,
The passage up the mountain;
Calico Autumn.
Categories:
fringed, nature, seasons
Form:
Haiku
She finds the pink planet, musing Alice Liddell's Imagination is the only weapon in war with reality. Sky's canvas, brushed cotton candy clouds where marshmallow mountains peak and the seventh sun rides low 'til the man in the moon awakens. White light and red, filters a pink-tint, nebulous fringed rose gold. Pearlescent beams lap at her legs, silhouettes blossom as silky waves of jasmine kiss, spiral, and envelop her
open-mindness to
embrace the unexpected
Alice would be proud
realization pink planet
a bountiful life journey
Categories:
fringed, character, fantasy, world,
Form:
Other
Picture Postcard
The air sighed heavily
as Winter rested its head
on soft somber clouds
lightened earlier by a sifting
of rain, snow and ice.
It smiled softly at the moon
which, once more, made
a welcomed appearance
in the mantle of night’s sky
sprinkled lightly with stars.
It shivered considerably
near the trees in the cities
wearing their crystal jackets,
that glimmered slightly
with moonbeams smile.
It whispered quietly close
to sleeping houses bedecked
were pristine white hats,
fringed along their sides
with crystalline tassels.
It applauded the sun
as it soundlessly arose
presenting to the world
a postcard bejeweled
with Winter’s muse.
By: Debra Squyres
01/20/13
Categories:
fringed, nature, winter,
Form:
Free verse
Urges ushered Est’bel out of her abode –
a cottage cobbled together from cobwebs and clapboard –
and she scuttled forth,
her nesty hair tousled
by a leaf-laced breeze
In her bony hands she clutched
dregs of a nightmeg broth
in a porcelain jar stoppered
by a coffinwood shard
Her bare feet stepped on thorny twigs
but she felt them not,
for her soles had been hardened
by countless treks across hot coals
washed up from stygian shoals
Leftward she turned,
meandering down the narrowing, twisting path,
where uprooted mandrake tendrils
clutched at her anorexic ankles,
while ravens pecked at her frayed follicles,
until she snatched a leaf
from a passing philodendron,
folding it into a tri-cornered hat
and plunking it atop her pate,
rakishly askew
Dewey sap from twisty-trunked trees
dripped onto the nape of her gnarly neck
and a raven on a nearby branch
cawed his amusement,
earning him her owlish scowl
She spied a row of rotting poppies
and plucked a bunch,
sticking them into a crevice of her hat,
then stepped onto a walkway of cracked shale slabs,
which shunned her footprints,
replacing them with snail streaks
to mark her passing
She made her way to a listing tombstone
atop a gnarled knoll encased in gelid moonbeams
and fringed by shushing sawgrass
She took a small vial of indigo glass
from beneath her shabby shawl
and pulled out a stopper made
from a finger bone of an unfaithful lover
whose pickled tongue hung from a
silver chain around her neck
She poured the contents of the vile vial
into the porcelain jar and
listened to the fizz.
It subsided into sloshes,
reminding her of the sounds
issuing from demented shells
snatched from the forlorn shores
of stygian shoals
She gaped at the sky
as an owl flew past the moon,
stirring the dark craters,
which broke up into swirling spirals,
sucking lunar beasts beneath the surface,
where they dissolved in the ceaselessly sliding sands
And Est’bel raised the jar to her lips
and drank a toast to the moon,
and awaited the enshadowed shades
drifting down the snail-slimed pathway,
propelled by a leaf-laced breeze
Categories:
fringed, magic, moon, night, woman,
Form:
Free verse
fringed rifts tear
aside a curtain
ragged with light
stage is prepared
soft murmurs
grow into roars
voice raises to
a deafening scream
that erupts and whips
waters with
thundering applause
Categories:
fringed, nature, storm,
Form:
Free verse
calm
placid
clear blue lake
serene and still
in a wide palm-fringed
rich green verdant valley
mother duck leads and swims
in the tranquil lake
ducklings white, soft
follow her
one by
one
Date: 08/19/2021
For Merse Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Malabika Ray Choudhury
Categories:
fringed, nature,
Form:
Verse