Best Glides Poems
with self confidence
eagle glides past cotton cloud
unique position
There lies a way to heaven by that lake,
My sickness gone, I fear no chilly mist;
A redwing calls me, dawn is now awake,
The fragrant autumn air I can't resist.
There is my home far from this cottage small,
Where honeysuckles with gold aspens mate,
And purple sweetgums love their mother Fall,
Oblivious of their harsh wintry fate.
November Rain! Your icy arrows smart
Those scarlet berries on the woody hill.
Let the thrush sing once more till I depart,
Let his mellifluous throat subtly trill.
True is this blazing hue— October's art,
A timeless souvenir stashed in my heart.
10th November, 2019
New Fall Sonnets Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
She glides up the staircase
Such a sight to see; angel face
Like she's stepping up to the heavens
The clouds seem to part but it's just the curtains
To welcome her, graceful being
I wish all could see what I'm seeing
The thoughts she elicits
Wondrous, inquisitive, illicit
She keeps me guessing daydreaming
Undressing, distressing, caressing
Her skin smooth like a polished oak banister
With a body curvaceous spiraling
As her hand travels my heart stops sinister
I feel out of breath lungs failing
She keeps coming step after step
I hear the click of her heels, hep
Hep, hep-- but I haven't said a word
This hiccup betrays me; how absurd
Would I feel if she looks my way
And all I can muster is a shy "hey"
Look away quickly
Run run swiftly
But no I'm still here
She smiles; does she know? I fear
That she's aware I've been staring
Dumbfounded I collect my bearing
I snap to attention as she speaks
I feel the burn leave my cheeks...
glides a blue heron
heading home at sunset
~ nature shutting down
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Posted on May 15, 2020
dragonfly glides in
encouraging buttercups
giving roses hope
faerie follows her
inspiring my bluebells
and rose of Sharon
butterfly flits by
always spreading love and joy
garden complete now
the sky is a hazy blue sea today
and a breeze touches the tree tops
and they sway like emerald waves
oh, there is a perfect silence ...
though hidden birds chatter and twitter
and my flowers tremble
while others are ... perfectly still
and my hanging
ivy is creeping and twining
and somewhere a wind chime
pings once
and a white gull glides
_________________
June 9, 2021
In satin gown resplendent
A vision independent
With eyes of green she hits the scene
A regular attendant
She passes through the door
Then glides across the floor
A look of grace upon her face
A goddess evermore
She then begins to dance
The men are in a trance
They only stare while frozen there
Too scared to take a chance
At the bar she's standing prone
Drinking champagne on her own
They pass her by but never try
So she goes home all alone
Soaking up the sun's rays this morning, loving my flowers in oranges and pinks, I look up as a striped butterfly glides around two bushes, and swirls around my chair, pirouetting prettily. She is not fearful in the least, possibly believing me to be a statue. A bird makes a chirp sound; only one which seems odd. The sky is as blue as it can be. An unusual beeping sound comes toward me rapidly from my right. It is my cat, Shark. Has he possibly learned at new sound that sounds like a beep to lure cardinals to their death? It is definitely a beep.
striped butterfly glides
an unknown bird chirps
crazy beep from cat
The carriage with Mr. Mihai Eminescu glides silently, unseen,
Through the whispers of Iashi's stones, wrapped in its own mystery.
How long and tiring is the journey through boundless realms,
Emerging from the shadow of the past, with old, untouched stories.
What secrets are hidden among the stars, in shining constellations?
What mysteries sparkle in the vast cosmic night, trembling?
From the parental home does the poet return?
Or from the embrace of dusk, towards the living in sighs?
On the dry cobblestones, the rhythm of horseshoes sings,
A strange lament that the night echoes:
The carriage with Mr. Eminescu, grand and silent,
Traverses spiritual Iashi, where his memory is recognized.
Some are born; others pass towards sunsets,
Under the sighing acacias, with a heart full of longing.
The linden trees weep silently when shadows grow denser,
In the mystical night, where memories blend naturally.
Fear grasps my soul at the edge of reality's veil,
When the carriage with Mr. Eminescu begins its nocturnal round in Iashi.
It moves always, ethereal on its course,
With spectral horses gliding on streets of mist and smoke.
As long as the soil of Romania is kissed by the light of dawn,
The carriage with the poet Mihai Eminescu will traverse the night in its eternal stroll.
In the sacred chronicles of a silent and eternal march,
We must be prepared to welcome him in this spiritual ark.
Even if our hearts are overwhelmed by a sad thought,
Knowing that celestial carriage casts an endless spell:
For the carriage with Mr. Eminescu, will be floating through Iashi,
Never stopping, in an eternal dance under the shining moon.
Eminescu, stay among us, poet, please stay a while longer,
For by illuminating us, you will always watch over us in a darkened world.
In the moonlit corridors of human thought, the carriage rises:
With linden flowers and secrets, through the evening shadows, it ventures towards destiny.
A metaphorical journey, through realms of astral truth,
Eminescu's dreams whispering on the winds, continuing forever.
A gull glides slowly
Through the cloud-grey sky
No sign of hurry,
No hint of worry
Content thus to fly.
Dramatic contrast
To the traffic down below
Human hurry
Human rush
As though its sinful
To go slow.
Maybe somehow
In a very little while
I’ll let time take
Its gentle course
And gull-like
Peaceful go.