Best Gathering Poems
Cleaning out one of your drawers,
I remove your beautiful woven sweaters
one by one
pausing to hold up to my face
the blue one that matched so perfectly
the color of your eyes.,
Deep sadness wells up in me
as a few of my tears
wet the part of it where I’d slyly
slip my fingers underneath
to touch your skin.
I place it on the bed nicely folded
and finish collecting the other sweaters.
Each one reminds me
of a special place we went
of a time when it was
you and me together.
And each one reminds me of
the way I would snuggle against your chest.
These sweaters were a part
of your charm and your warmth.
They will be taken to the Goodwill store
but for now
just for now
I let my tears flow. . .
gathering wool
For Madison Demetros' "Move Me and Others" Poetry Contest
Now for Mark Toney's 2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 14 Poetry Contest
Four “Golden Girls” seated at a table
Grey streaks our hair, but minds remain stable
Convention is underway
Michael has something to say
He opens our meeting with a fable
It’s about a tortoise that beats a hare
Some of the “fast writers” begin to glare
Joyce, Francine and Barbara know
It takes time for verse to grow
We’re the queens of rewriting; this we swear
Iolanda’s introduced to read her book
“Lava of my Soul,” no gobbledygook
We’re mesmerized by each line
At the end we toast with wine
Joyce says, “Now those words took some time to cook.”
It’s Karen’s turn to read “Silent Whispers”
We see tears falling into John’s whiskers
“Tears of joy,” Francine exclaims
For Karen’s Best Seller fame
Applause rings out from grateful listeners
After the “meet and greet” it’s nearly dawn
The crowd starts to thin as our comrades yawn
Joyce, Francine call it a night
But Barbara still sits upright
We two remain when most others are gone
One poet called us “Late Night Cockroaches”
This indignity did not encroach us
We call ourselves “LNCs”
Awake in wee hours with ease
Waiting for our princes to approach us
That’s when the James Brothers draw near
Peranteau and Fraser, to make it clear
With two erotic writers
LNCs pull “all nighters”
Knowing that we can propose; it’s Leap Year!
*Entry for Michael’s “A Table of Four” contest
At my table: Carolyn Devonshire
Joyce Johnson
Francine Roberts
Barbara Gorelick
Cool raindrops kiss my cheeks
A warm breeze rises within me
As I recall the moments
Which linger in my heart forever
The pulsating sphere of light and dark
Polar opposite lovers in the circle of life
Encompassing magnificent visceral nuances
Infinite shades of gray, slate, and steel
With mauve interludes
An elegant intimate tapestry
Complete with tears of joy and pain
Sharing love and grief
Gazing upwards I join my brothers and sisters
On jagged bare branches
As cool wind rustles our feathers
The white hawks, eagles, vultures, and their tribes
The birds of prey who gather
Sharing tales of their journeys through time
We all stare out
Our senses prickling with anticipation
A silence hovers
A shared glimpse
A collective inhale
Our ears and hearts awaken
Virgin raindrops fall on thirsty ferns
Their limey tendrils outstretched
Quenched in gratitude
A low rumble
Footsteps below
A clearing in the forest
Created by children gathering
Giggles and dust rise
Excited young mouths
Speaking in pantomime
Gesturing with kind intentions
Young creatures of the world kingdom
Unconcerned with language barriers
Sharing evolving consciousness
A wink of an eye
Hands on chest - feeling our heartbeats
Laughter emanating from within little bellies
Spinning freely in circles
Arms outstretched wide, heart open and exposed
Vulnerable in delight and anticipation
A low cello vibrates nearby
A gentle breeze rustles leaves
Which float in the air embracing light rays
Mesmerizing all
Pine boughs perform shadow puppet dances
On cascading rock walls nearby
Elders lean contently against tree trunks
Smiles slowly emerging as silent tears flow
A young child skips over
Tenderly grabbing her grandfather’s arm
Opening his hand, she plants a wet kiss
On his age-stained palm
Then gazes up at his toothy grin
Before returning to the gathering
Wild beasts arrive and quiet
Kneeling by water’s edge
To drink and watch
Hands clasp
A sharing ensues
A vibration rises
As souls gather
Radiating light and hope to all
eager goldfinch
gather at my birdfeeder
~ a family feast
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
POTD September 1, 2025
emerald still pond
yellow musty pages hoarded
cobwebs of the mind
© Nadiya (03 Mar '15)
*Placed 3rd in the contest 'Gathering Dust' by John Lawless on 25 March 2015.
*Placed 3rd in the contest '10 or less lines' on 14 Oct 2015.
*
Sun
Shining
Azure sky.
Barbie fired up
Soon the guests arrive
Bringing food and cold beer
Children play while adults chat
The steaks sizzling on the barbie.
Drinking and eating with much laughter
On this bright and warm August summer day.
*
It happened in a moment, during my 7th grade English class *
As we studied classic literature; “Evangeline”, the poem
A substitute teacher, wearing shoes of polished coal *
His soft style, hair neatly combed, engrossed in reading poetry…
Pubescence slumped around me, nodding off, slowly being lulled...
Young minds. filled with clutter, gathering dust, from ancient stories
With glittering eyes, he read each verse * *
The soft, eager voice, that stroked each word…
He would wait, on occasion, to look around the room *
With wistful hope, I would suppose, to reach one heart, one soul
At the start of the class, I had been watching the clock
But, as I sat more enraptured, time just seemed to stop…
I turned the pages, one by one …and slowly fell in love
The beauty of old words, drifted through the stuffy air
Like the gathering of dust motes, glittered, hanging in suspension
Filtered in the angled light, of the afternoon’s warm detention
Sun filtered through window glass,…while voice of bliss droned on….
My heartbeat sped, with growing passion
I restrained my hands from reaching,… grabbing *
To catch each word, and keep them captive…
Dust motes, and words, were spinning around *
I was head over heels…for my substitute teacher…
I was head over heels for an old man named Longfellow….
Thirteen years old, I loved two older men….
Fell in love with the classics,....on a mid-day afternoon
While gathering dust, and the magic of words
……………………………………….
For the Contest: "Gathering Dust"
Sponsored by John Lawless
As I intently peered into the darkened trope clouds ?
Aligned amid the sky; holding this bottle of sins which formed
Collected throughout ones nexus life ? Casting it as far as one could
Into the deepest of blue oceans; to swallow then, turning..
Unto Beauty's Angels and they, by my side whom stood atop, indelibles
Fertile shores smiling at me, while her winds began their howl and, the thunder
It's roar lightning, crashing at our feet twas then that this peace; tranquillity
Spoke within gentle tones as I bowed upon my knee; a pouring into the sand wherein
Love's moment I arose, when Majestic took hold; softly my hand ? Alpha yet Omega
My King Our Lord Glorious His Angels, began to laugh these eyes mine, growing bright
And pulling me into His loving heart He, gently spoke, “Come, let 'Us' go from this place....”
****^.^********#_^******************^@^******************^_#********^.^****
....“To Gather The Stars” *
Gathering Leaves
On an autumn day
Bittersweet memories
Of summer,
Swept away.
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2018.
24/10/19
I went into the woods
To seek solitude
And found poetry,
Uncovered words
Under old leaves and
Decoded secret messages
In the pebbles by the stream.
The stones whispered to me,
And the silence
Distilled into song.
10/19/2016
.
An argument brews...
Interlude of rest is stirred
by distant thunder
Inspired by Raul's "Inspiration in Haiku" contest
Lamentable, the family gathering
on the other side of sunshine,
with possessions no longer bothering,
sans loving cups, draining of wine.
Great-grands, grands, aunts, uncles, cousins and unborn,
one mom, a nephew, memories
their perspectives (only they carry). Torn,
yellowed pages of treasuries.
Climbing steps, silver dollars, and finger gloves,
savory chicken and dumplings,
boat on the lake, seashells on velvet (these loves)
tricks and treats, some were just ducklings.
Soft hands, warmer heart; silver in corner chair;
the teaser (he died way too young)
To each I lift my thoughts - they are laid bare.
Kindly, ancestors, I’m among.
All, go the byway, to our destination.
What will our progeny recall?
What bouquet of ours sets forth sensation?
Together we’ll be, blessings fall.
Lacrimal vessels are filled - our love, fearsome.
Eyes salty and brightened.
Peace comes after tears, reveling in wisdom.
Capacity to care, heightened.
The long shadows
are growing cooler.
Soon there will be places
where the light will no longer reach
and the river will wear
its autumn coat of leaves.
My walks are getting shorter,
contracting within a circle,
tightening in an ever diminishing
circumference around
my home. I feel a hurry
in my mind, the need
to gather and stash
what I can before being
confined to a room.
I grab swatches of sky,
reflections, the shapes
of trees, anything and everything
to stock memory
with a store of stuff
a poem can nibble on
when locked away
in a dark that seems
to have a no beyond.
I am the wind
the textured curl of clouds
those specks of glitter
silver and gold are my
illustrative gleams
the foiling wings
that flutter and flap
feathers ripe with color
complementing all rosy hills
a rolling kiss a splash of
blush a dash of spicy dish
the pepper and the salt
of a morning's stirring serving
see me in the meadows
there where wildflowers overflowing
bees and butterflies how they gaily
bob take lick like little children
at the serving tops of apples candied
making funny faces where those more
tart chasing rainbow tails the
fond remnants of showers
I made this day for you
now do me honor
save some acres from your cities
and roads
one or two at the least
as I keep sacred
your plot through the heavens
Gathering my memories of you,
I surround myself
with the love that we've shared.
I still recall
every smile, every hug,
and every kiss.
Now that you have passed,
mementos are all I have to comfort me.
You were my best friend,
my soulmate, my lover, my hope,
and my muse;
all of the above, and so much more.
I fell in love with you,
and all your unique little quirks
and funny gestures, long ago.
I remember our first date
and how, from that moment on:
our lives were forever linked.
Life is like a roller coaster ride
of which we have no control:
neither the destination
nor the course it will take.
We are all along for the ride:
and the best we can hope for
is choosing who shares the seat next to us.
And I'm so happy
that you chose me, and I chose you.
Your ride is over, my love,
but I'll see you soon; mine is winding down.