Best Glanced Poems
I remember the day I became a poet.
In the magnificence of the submerging sun,
I glanced upon her admiring its majesty.
Amidst hues of clementine and lilac,
her image cast a shadow so serene.
My heart began to flutter like a butterfly,
floating towards her -
finally free from the chambers of my cocoon.
Like a silk scarf, scarlet petals wove a path,
aromatising footsteps that led to her.
Who could this mysterious lady be,
that had humbled such a hardened heart?
Although strangers, it felt as our souls
had known each other for eternity.
In twinkling twilight, I could see
pieces of the moon illuminating through her eyes.
How could I forget how the reflection of her smile
invited me to wander willingly into her heart.
Like nocturnal nightingales adrift in the night,
we sang sensual melodies not heard before.
Sensations felt from her soft satin skin
remain a euphoric timeless memory.
Seduced within the substance of soulful desires,
her enchanted essence became my first poem -
the purity of her existence my eternal poetry.
Silent One
19 March 2018
Categories:
glanced, love, romance,
Form:
Romanticism
I was going on a blind date and walked across town
The weather wasn’t kind, rain was pouring down
It was my friend’s sister and he arranged the date
She was nowhere to be seen, maybe just running late.
Then a girl with a red umbrella came towards me
Despite the pouring rain she was beautiful to see
She said” Sorry I’m late my bus it broke down
I’ve just had to walk half a mile across town.”
“Get under” she said “Come and take shelter”
I did as she asked and then I was beside her
I’d never noticed before and what a surprise
She had an angelic face and beautiful brown eyes.
Our eyes then met and to me that was a good sign
And from this day forward I vowed she’d be mine
Never in my life had I ever felt this way
I was lost for words and didn’t know what to say.
I held her closely and we looked at each other
I would never have met her but for her brother
Then she pulled me closer and we started to kiss
I was in seventh heaven, oh this was pure bliss.
I thought in my mind, this girl would be my wife
And I was already planning the rest of my life
I’d marry her, buy a house and start our own family
Have holidays at the coast; go swimming in the sea.
I then heard a loud ringing, it had just turned seven
Lying there wide awake, I was no longer in heaven
Sometimes things are just not what they seem
The angel with brown eyes was just but a dream.
I got ready for work and then went to catch the train
The sky was full of grey clouds and it started to rain
As the train was pulling out I glanced over to my right
Stood holding a red umbrella; was the girl from last night.
Written 31st October 2018
For screwed xx poetry contest sponsored by
Rob Carmack.
Categories:
glanced, dream, rain, romance,
Form:
Narrative
Oh Avi, Avi
Sometimes, with my eyes closed
I see you dance
A dervish, whirling, like me
And I wished
Oh how I wished you would
pirouette into my arms
You would hold me
How I would hold you
But my arms and yours
caught girls, alluring and delicate
Oh Avi, Avi
When you laughed
My stomach turned
And multi-coloured butterflies
And small flying kites
danced into the air
Occasionally you glanced at me
the way I did at you
I think you did
Oh Avi, Avi
We were so young
Just boys, small boys
Thinking about you still
makes my day smile
I wheel my chair
With light rhythmic movements
Dreaming about a time
Where I still had dreams
And you were in them
With our tights and muscular
Frames and our *****
Avi, oh Avi.
***
March 7, 2017
© Darren White
Categories:
glanced, boy, dance, memory, remember,
Form:
Free verse
I can still recall the look upon His face
Each thought still makes me go to that enchanting place
The vernal air was floral sweet and honey breezed
We roamed along Venice's zigzagged lanes and cobbled streets
On our secret rendezvous,We hugged affectionately under pastel gothic galleries
Greeted by the aromatic smell of freshly brewed roast coffee beans
Strolling along the pigeon-filled piazza San Marco
We wandered hand in hand,in the serenissima ancient floating land
Street musicians played their flutes.as We sat on a roof-top wooden terrace
We glanced at merchants sell hand-blown murano glass
by the picturesque Doge's palace
We ate a snack , then walked away towards the old opera house
which now has risen from its ashes.
We sauntered forward through little alleys
from where He bought me ,a gold painted venetian mask
To my surprise ,He had another gift,a wrapped up scarlet sheer laced basque
I peered at him through my dark lashes,He raised his left brow and flashed a smile
Expressed his charm in playful ways,in a flirtatious endearing style.
Boarded at last on a black gondola,cruised the lagoon and the canals
A few light kisses,a few soft brushes,waiting the bell's toll whilst in his arms
There we lay in waiting beneath the bridge of sighs
We sealed our kiss and promised lips,to the harmonic sound of chimes
He leaned on me,I welcomed Him,our spirits been entwined
Above,the sky has changed its colour,I watched the sun set in his eyes
All I am,I gave to him,my enduring heart- His sacred shrine
All that He is He gave to me in once upon a time
Not for the contest,but thanks for the 'Lovemaking in an ancient place contest,inspiration'.
This post is inspired by Ancient Venice and the tale of 'The Bridge Of Sighs'
The tale goes-If you kiss your loved one with the bell's toll of St,Mark's Basilica,
at sunset,beneath the bridge of sighs,the couple seals their love forever.
There is another tale to it,a sad one,but preferred to share the happy one : )
Categories:
glanced, love, passion,
Form:
Prose
Let me tell you a story....
of a little girl who didn't want to be a Princess!!!!
it happened a long time ago, in the life of an adorable girl of seven,
who lived in the busiest humming city, enormously crowded.
a gentle dreamy-eyed girl, who chose secret corners to read,
and play with her cherished dolls' house, which her father built.
as it happened..her father found a job..and it was an idyllic countryside,
excitedly she followed family, felt fortunate to be close to nature.
a fairyland of her dreams, a picturesque hamlet surrounded by lush fields,
lived in a cottage encircled by a gorgeous garden, bird-songs, and swings.
she went to the village-school, which was a mere walking distance,
carrying her backpack, water bottle, and books she needed.
her father was the powerful manager of the local textile mill,
where most of the villagers worked, and earned their living.
all the children glanced at her as if she were a Princess,
but this soft dainty lass craved to be purely one of them.
she noticed...those children were walking barefoot to school,
no backpack, no bottle of water, no shiny expensive clothes.
end of the day, she returned home, and declared to her caring parents,
"I don't need the backpack, bottle for water, or the stylish shoes...
starting from tomorrow, I am going to walk to school barefoot"
her parents were shocked, but didn't disagree with her at all.
from the following day, the warm friendly girl of seven,
felt totally comfortable and undoubtedly right, with her decision.
all children were frolicking with her, no more was she a distant Princess,
she was their delightful friend...sharing the same life they had in the village.
she still remembers those eyes which sparkled with wonder at the way they were accepted,
a lifelong memory was created, the gesture kindled a feeling of oneness.
April 16, 2022
For N - Form Narrative - New - Poetry Contest
Theme:Life
Sponsor: Constance La France
SECOND PLACE
Categories:
glanced, children, life, princess,
Form:
Narrative
The routine ride home from a neighboring town, seemed different today.
As I glanced at the dirty, sandy spot left on the usually spotless black leather seat beside me,
I felt almost ashamed of the warm smile that crossed my face..
But that's how I felt.
Content some how.......
No radio blaring as usual. Just thinking of Ernie and his stories.
Wondering what that look was, I saw deep in his eyes.
Scared eyes..yet not scary. Eyes that had seen too much maybe, who couldn't seem to find home.
The cardboard sign simply said east. He was sitting atop a dirty, dark roll of gathered belongings at the only stop light in town. It was one of those sunrises that make you feel small. Pinks..purples..glassy blue..sun rays shooting through scattered clouds like golden fingers pointing straight to heaven. As I sat waiting for the light to change, I noticed this guy noticed it too! I don't see many hitchhikers in our small town and the words pounded into my head since birth kept ringing over and over. Never talk to strangers...don't do it!
Ernie is sitting next to me holding his dirty rolled up blanket protectively in his lap and
I'm at the drive through at McDonald's. Three sausage biscuits please..I take mine and hand the bag to Ernie who looked like a skeleton lost under layers of old wrinkled clothes. Kind, hollow eyes thank me as he rolls the top of the bag down tightly and asks if he can please save his for later. I can't speak and hope he doesn't notice tears running down my cheeks. He must , for he breaks the silence by telling me of his years on the road, although I didn't ask. He speaks intelligently of the sights and places I've always intended to visit some day. His words bring to life the adventures of meeting all kinds of people - good and bad - all over the country, but Ernie didn't tell me why he lived life on the road.
Later, he shook my hand and said goodbye.
As he stood there, that last look we shared..he smiled - I cried.
I thought I was going to help a lonely man, but he helped me........
©Donna Jones
10-16-2013
Categories:
glanced, introspection, loneliness,
Form:
Free verse
If a poet falls in love with you
you will live forever.
Atticus Finch - To kill a mockingbird.
In the midst of conundrums, of 'what ifs.'
I dislike the ocean,
its bitter saltiness, brings no joy.
Perched safely, upon the highest cliff,
watching waves surge upon the shore.
They are a constant reminder of
how you waved goodbye.
Each ripple carried you away - forever.
Lost in reflection,
sentimental memories remain eternal.
Recalling how the sun caressed your face,
mirroring your spirited smile -
like a lantern in my darkness.
Still unforgettable -
the joy in those soulful eyes -
each time you glanced at me.
Nonchalantly, I would follow you.
As we walked without a care -
you never seeming to tire.
In our youthful playground,
rusty see-saws and swings
still remember our laughter and tears -
that first sophomoric kiss
and I can still taste you.
When night would arrive,
there was no fear, hand in hand.
You were like a mystical pixie,
glowing in the enchantment of moonlight -
it would illuminate through your eyes.
We could have danced all night,
our souls ascending to the heavens.
But, I was afraid of new horizons,
because, I knew you would depart -
just like a shooting star.
Without thinking,
I broke your heart -
before you could heal mine.
I remain in the silence of 'what ifs.'
But, I smile, content -
knowing that once there was a time,
your heart and mine,
merged like day and night.
Simple Musing
4 July 2020
This is a fictional poem.
An example for the 'One who got away' contest.
Categories:
glanced, loss, love, youth,
Form:
Free verse
I gazed at your beauty and your hair cascading,
You glanced at me- O, he is handsome, this man;
Your sensuous lips so tempting, captivating,
I laughed and it was a deep rumbling laugher.
And this was the beginning of our love affair,
Your family would not approve of this pairing;
On a ship leading you to a life of despair,
So we met in secret, making love and talking.
As the ship entered port you slipped me your address,
I let go of fate gifted love- reluctantly;
We have been corresponding, our words a caress,
O the torture of distance, what of destiny.
I will never forget our gifted nights of bliss,
So a secret journey I have planned- a voyage;
You love me with true love and I long for your kiss,
And I will beseech for your hand in marriage.
Last week I sent you a love-soaked, tear-stained letter,
I let go of fate gifted love- reluctantly;
This time away, from your touch became harder,
O the torture of distance, what of destiny.
Fate gifted us, drinking passion from its chalice,
Waking flames serving first to increase our ardor;
Summer, your sweet roses covered our palace,
This time away, from your touch became harder.
I look across this wind-blown majestic ocean,
Mind turns to epic sadness of our parting hour;
I begged then for distance erasing potion,
I tried to remain your rock hard castle tower.
The desperate, longing look- your beautiful face,
Informing me the dire depts that you found this clutch;
I reminded you, no distance could our love erase,
Or lessen my need to feel your soft, gentle touch.
Last week, I sent you a love-soaked, tear-stained letter,
Now, board a ship that will take me to my true love;
Reading my golden love sent, you will feel better,
Never my loving touch shall you be deprived of.
_____________________________
December 5, 2015
Tail-Rhyme
Co-write with Broken Wings and Robert Lindley
Categories:
glanced, love,
Form:
Tail-rhyme
I could not refrain from asking what it was that made her sigh
When each picture that she started she took down. I wondered why.
The young lady was forthcoming; said her thoughts were fresh and bright
Every time she started painting nothing seemed to turn out right.
Then she glanced at my own painting and declared that it was great
She remarked I found it easy to imagine and create.
Well, I smiled and softly told her that it was my special brush
That afforded all the wonders; careful handling with no rush.
So I told her she could use it, to be gentle for a start
Till they reached synchronization so that both could play their part.
What about the other brushes? Do not fret or give a hoot
Mine will be the instigator, all the rest will follow suit!
I went off to have a breather while she went to work anew
Gave her time to get on with it then returned exact on cue.
I could see her face was radiant and her work intense yet cool
She expressed appreciation at my most fantastic tool.
I will let you on a secret; I have played a hidden card
For my brush is only normal. You were trying just too hard!
You can paint, you have it in you. To your talent be not blind.
As you see there is no magic; it was only in the mind.
So good luck with your endeavours. Some advice, precise and brief
You can make the perfect painting; all you need is self belief.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note: This poem was written to pass on a message to all those who
suffer from low esteem. Self-belief is the way forward.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author: Paul Callus
Contest (Favourite Poem...) sponsored by Carol Eastman
Placed: 1st
Categories:
glanced, art, beauty,
Form:
Rhyme
For some reason, this morning her alarm clock failed to sound. With eyes half closed,
she glanced at the clock. It was around 8 AM. She got dressed as quickly as
she could, hurried to the train station. When the train arrived; she managed
to get a seat . She put on her glasses and took out her crossword puzzle.
She became lost in the clues. She had finished one puzzle, was on to the next,
when the voice of the conductor interrupted her thoughts. A delay was announced.
As it turned out, the train ahead had derailed. Many were seriously injured.
It was then, she appreciated the silence of her alarm clock.
-----
a peal of thunder
shatters the peace of the day
rain comes crashing down
Categories:
glanced, life,
Form:
Haibun
She liked picking flowers, I liked growing them
She liked picking flowers,
I liked growing them
Her basket filled with pretty blooms,
freshly on the stem
She walked into my garden,
scented sweet and true
I tended to my marigolds
with tiny buds so new
She saw my Gerber daisies,
just smiling in the sun
Then glanced in my direction,
she only wanted one
I nodded my approval,
for what else could I say
To the loveliest of flowers
in my garden on this day
She thanked me with a kiss,
upon my cheek so soft
I felt my old heart skip a beat,
my mind it went aloft
Then as she was leaving
neath springtime skies so blue
I could only stand and stare,
for on this day I knew
Of every perfect flower,
so wondrous and pristine
She was now the prettiest
that I have ever seen
She still likes picking flowers,
I still like growing them
But now I tend my plants and wait
till she comes back again
Categories:
glanced, flower, fun, garden, spring,
Form:
Rhyme
As I walked on a lonely beach,
I thought I spied a Mermaid--
But no, it couldn't be, I thought.
Yet, drawing near, I saw it was
a Mermaid sunning on a rock.
Her back, I saw, and fins.
as I looked on in shock.
She couldn't see me as I crept forward,
hid and watched
Her hair, like spun gold, blew gently
in Summer's breeze.
Her skin, an opalescent green--
by that, I mean
there were mingled hues
of peridot and opal
creating a soft sea green.
and, when she moved,
created opal's fire
amid her sheen
Her hands were webbed but versatile
and I could only stare
as she braided sunbeams
in her hair.
She began to hum
which soon became a song she sang
the music haunting,
yet nestled deep
were sounds of waves
kissing shore--
music I longed to keep.
Her song reached a crescendo
as sea waves crashed.
A moment only, I turned
and glanced at the sea.
When I looked back,
she had disappeared...
into a memory.
I found a pebble she had left
of iridescent green--a gift.
All along, she knew
I watched.
Often, at dusk,
I walk the lonely sands
and search for her.
I listen for her song...
but she has gone.
Categories:
glanced, allegory, beach, beauty, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
One walked out
One walked in
I sat nervously in reception
Waiting for my torture to begin
Bouts of laughter came from the interview room
Knocking my confidence with each bout
I didn’t want to be there anymore
Tempted to just forget it and walk out
The door opened she came out smiling
My turn to face the panel of three
They were all very nice
Though it actually didn’t help me
The interview in full motion
Questions and scenarios galore
Confident in my responses
Of them l felt quite sure
However, there was a problem
One l had never experienced before
I could not stop saying long ‘ummms’
Every-time l opened my mouth which was impossible to ignore
I apologised for the ongoing ummms
Explained it was just nerves
Next thing that came out my mouth
Yes, you guessed it….’ummm’ before my words
I left the interview feeling completely humiliated
I cried whenever the interview came to mind
I was so disappointed and embarrassed of myself
It was obvious the position was not mine
The letter arrived... l wasn’t interested
As l knew already what it said
I simply glanced at it
My husband read it instead
‘You got the job Deb’, he told me
You can imagine my utter surprise
Handing me the letter
I honestly could not believe my eyes
After working the job for some time
I enquired why they had chosen me
My interview was not my finest hour
With me ummming constantly
She told me there was something about me
That just shone through
Even with all your ummming, she smiled
We decided this job was for you
The lesson l learnt and want to convey in this long winded story is
it doesn’t always have to be perfect or right
Sometimes in life ‘it just is ‘…. simply meant to be
Ummm…..and for you the universe just shines bright!
Categories:
glanced, anxiety, confidence, fate,
Form:
Rhyme
On a frigid winter evening, so still
that hot breath lingered around my face.
In snow sparklingly dry and crystalline
I encountered fresh-made footprints,
leading off my mostly trodden path.
The sun was low in evening's sky
creating long dark spectral shadows
that would all too soon be swallowed.
But for a moment illumed the footprints
in a strange, compelling light.
A fleet chilling wind whisked around
flurrying the fine, icy flakes,
attempting to erase the marks.
Against the will to forge ahead
imprint the virgin snow, I turned;
and followed the path the footsteps made.
No further prints I saw upon the ground;
no evidence of animal or other.
Though in the distance I could hear,
as darkness drew its shroud,
the wailing of nocturnal beasts.
Then deathly, eerie silence save
for crying of the wind in tangled trees;
as I was led through thickets coarse,
and forests deepest gloomy dark,
to end beneath an ancient misty lychgate.
I stood beside a solitary grave
one word; 'Father,' etched upon the stone.
I glanced back from whence I came
In snow sparklingly dry and crystalline;
one single track of fresh-made footprints,
illumed in strange, compelling light.
Categories:
glanced, mystery, winter,
Form:
Free verse
I took one thought, which then led to some others.
These thoughts were not my own, but they conveyed
a picture bigger than my mind alone
could conjure, and a frame for them I made.
I showed this collage of bright thoughts to others -
thoughts articulated by stunning minds.
So proud was I to frame them for display.
I looked at all of them as precious finds.
But many could not see the beauty in them
(the beauty of their logic). Then I saw
some people spat on them and called as garbage
those very thoughts that filled me with such awe.
Some glanced at them and said they might have credence.
Most people would not look at them at all.
The ones who spat on them walked right up to them
and ripped them from the frame up on my wall.
They took those brilliant thoughts I found so precious
(those thoughts which formed ideas I’d found true)
and mocking them, they cumpled them all up.
Into the garbage bin those thoughts they threw.
I picked them up, uncrumpling them, and since
great people’s thoughts they are (not pearls for swine),
I’ll show them to the few whom I can trust
to not mock thoughts that have turned into mine.
Jan. 10, 2021
Categories:
glanced, analogy,
Form:
Rhyme