Best Gloried Poems


Premium Member Rise Up and Sing the Sun

Break forth, o dawn! Rise up and sing the sun
from underneath the hills into the light.
Put out the crimson fires and take a run
through azure laced with lazy wisps of white.

To sleep, o moon! It’s time for you to wane
and nestle in below the canopy.
Dear child, there is no need for you to strain
or stretch. Just rest; put off that jealousy!

Stand down, o stars, and watch above them all!
Go, fade away into the bright of day,
and light again to hold them in your thrall
when dark no longer can be held at bay.

The unseen hand thus orchestrates their course,
as they, in turn, reflect their gloried source.
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gloried, day,
Form: Sonnet

Remember the Season

 *
                                             ***
                                           *****
                                          ******
                                        ********
                                            Like
                                          all  of  life
                                  this requires effort
                                perhaps more difficult 
                                           than 
                                I could achieve today
                            but church hymns rang out
                         the wonders and the gloried awe
                    while in the shadows poor and sad walked
                                _______________
                             and/                      \ but
                         there/                         \ no one
                       she   /                            \  nothing
                     stood /            O                 \  deterred
                   small /            / I \                 \  her purpose          
                  frail  /              /   \                   \  not cold or rain
                aged /                                         \ neither ice nor snow
                           in  her  cumulative  years
                           in  her  coat  and  scarf 
                    blushing from her salty falling tears
                   the house itself,      scantly decorated 
                  with colored lights,  green, red and blue
                 in her solitary steps,  alone chilled and cold
                she walked slow and steady  from church to home
              and the smile formed deep round upon her waiting face 
             in tinsel glow with familiar song and softest Christmas lace
           one more year welcomed memories came the season of Holy Grace.
   
Remember the alone during this holiday season, send them a card, a gift, a flower to brighten their day and help them know, they are remembered.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gloried, age, seasons,
Form: Concrete

Premium Member God's Garden

I Corinthians 16:14 - "Let all that you do be done in love"

                                 ~

Of all the dear intents that I'm shaped of,
          No grand pursuit's more critical than love -
               While all the world about me comes apart,
     I'm but the soil for Heaven's hope, above.

This life has pushed me, often, to a seam,
          The fringe of hell, to see a gloried scheme,
               And though it oft' was of my own device,
     God used each conflict to define a dream ...

That tho' life's issues have a varied range,
          And some may press the definition, strange,
               The truest resolution, through God's grace -
     It's love ALONE, accomplishes true change.

Tho' it might seem too simple at the start,
          The scripture that defines me, does impart
               One single truth has been, and yet shall be -
     'Tis LOVE, the seed God's sowing in my heart.







~ 1st Place ~  in the "All Yours (Jan 22)" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 4th Place ~  in the "Favorite Scripture" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories: gloried, appreciation, faith, god, life,
Form: Rubaiyat

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Flora's Forest Treasure

Was but a shrub, clinging to rocky hill..
when first I strayed in forest aflower.
Er'nt son's return to rose and whippoorwill,
and brook's water glider mossy bower.

Below..,seventeen years cicadas dwelt..
nymphs now grown, sing familiar forest song.
Aligned to moon and stars in homage knelt,
nature's way to right all ruin and wrong.

Seeds are sewn, winds of change how quickly blown, 
tree lay down, bough's dream lost coveted cloud.
Heavens soaring branched crown no longer known,
once gloried sunlight, now in earthly shroud.

When last Spring returns Autumn's bounty owed,
the treasured forests Flora wisely sowed.
Categories: gloried, heaven, identity, inspirational, nature,
Form: Sonnet

Bees Waggle

I buzzed around
Amid our clan’s beesound.
My swarm buzzed in cloud
In beespeak spoke aloud.

But the babble of the bees
Suddenly did cease,
For one with gut swollen,
Legs burdened by pollen,
Dropped out of the swarm
And sounded an alarm.

We came to a rest,
Behaved at our best,
To ken what he’d  say,
On this blessed day.

He dropped on the ground,
Did a hop and a bound.
Like showman he pranced,
Strutted and danced,
Clockwise he went,
Clear message he sent.

It was the bees waggle!
It told the straggle
Where lay the flowers,
Nectar and pollen showers!


So off we took to flight,
All of us were light,
To be glutted by dusk,
With bounty of bees' musk!

Basking in the sun,
His waggle now done,
The hero of the bees,
Gloried as the bee’s knees!
Categories: gloried, dance, environment, fun, humorous,
Form: Rhyme

Ode To Morning

Ode to Morning

Yon morning, spellbound mistress of the skies
    How gently all your feathers move apart
How lightly thrill your soft, eternal sighs
    And feed with hope and mirth my swollen heart
    How softly sway your tresses of pure gold
        And glut with wealth the barren, night-sprent glade
            And plump the crisp, brown hazel shells with beams
        And cast a light strewn with a cooling shade
            Athwart the gentle ebbs of oozing streams
    Once quiet, still unravished yet. How bold

Your bubbling swells all cast their glinting charms
    Across the earth’s soft cheek and softer breast
Yon morning, wrap the world within your arms
    And light each mead with gloried noonday zest
    And twine with passioned rays the Heaven’s steep
        And cups of all the gem-encrusted buds
            And feed the bowers with a web of light
        And all the clouds with Lord Apollo’s rods
            Of nascent shine to veer away the night
    And all the evil spells of its black sleep

Return to us, gold morn with aching pride,
    And wake the spirits of the sleeping clouds,
And stir the bees which in the foxgloves hide,
    And let the bashful roses pry their shrouds
    To feel upon their breasts the cooling breeze
         Unfold from out the mountain’s stony rim
             The rainbows, looming arches, sundry hued
         Gold morn, when midnight’s sleepy glow shall dim
             And leas no more shall be by stars bedewed
    Then glow, until the lark sings with full ease!

© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov
Categories: gloried, morning,
Form: Ode


Annunciation

Ah Gabriel! 
How hard a task was laid on you, 
how hard the trust, 
how hard 
to travel through 
the empty miles of space 
unto a  cloistered  girl
who knew no man, 
to startle her
and race her heart 
past fear, 
and then announce 
strange words -- 
that she would bear a son of destiny 
who would be named
as Yahweh's chosen one. 

Was all the gospeling 
the holy one commanded you to speak 
some comfort to her then? 
Or did her face grow white 
as stone? 
And did her knees collapse 
with all the gloried weight of you? 
Were you to her 
a hollow wind, 
within the tensing air 
a shadow blurred, 
a light askance
just there 
beyond the corner of her eye, 
an echo of a voice beyond the upland hills? 
Or did she know you then for what you are,
God's able bodied one,
God's might,
and look you eye in eye,
and calmly kneel 
in smiling awe, 
amazed at all the golden splendor 
in your wings and wake, 
with gentle handmaid's reverence 
and, grace inflamed, 
said yes,
hands crossed 
along her heart, 
her belly swelling quick with majesty,
reducing you to tears?
Categories: gloried, religion,
Form: Blank verse

And

We met under a starry night
	And our smiles were bright under heavens light,
	And we danced until the morning grew,
	And we laughed over a silly story or two,
	And we shared our most intimate nature,
	And we understood we couldn’t hide anymore fractures,
	And we grew together beyond the moment,
	And we stepped forward into the present,
	And our hearts burst open into the world,
	And our thoughts grew peaceful as it stretched and whirled,
	And we gave ourselves to all who danced,
	And we gloried that we took this chance,
	And we continued on each in our own way,
	And we laughed with others each and every day,
	Until we met again under a starry night,
	Where we shared ourselves with hearts open and light.
Categories: gloried, friendship, love,
Form: List

Butterflies

“ UNSUPPORTED CODE “ ©
                   Butterflies  with  purpose
                                  Chrysalis  on  the  wings
                   Steadfast  in  their  focus
                                  As  if  remembering
                   All  flowers  in  each  garden
                                  Each  petal  opening
                   Velvet-gloried  colors
                                  In  quiet  chorus  sing
                   Flirting  synced  awaiting
                                  Euphony  all  within.
                   C-More  ®
Categories: gloried, butterfly,
Form:

Cruel Lessons

Cruel Lessons

I shudder when I ponder on my youth
Of careless choices made in haughty haste--
Forgotten pals that had no use for truth
But gloried in their greed and disregarded waste.

There is no way to rectify my thoughtless sin
No way undo the heartless words I often spoke--
Admittance of my vice may sway a younger kin
Avoid the road, avoid the booze or toke--
But life demands each youth to learn thru pain
Which prances through our secret longing dreams--
Thus caution kindly meant is lost in vain
Youth encaptured by tech-no dramatic schemes—

We’ve forgotten how to speak our hearts
Although, at times, we do our best
Invite young friends to have a meal--
But cannot find our techno guests

So lost without a phone--
Dodge looking eye to eye-- 
Our guests are living in a “Zone”--
The moment to advise has passed us b.y

How cruel it is to face the painful fact
There is no relief of dark despair
Each one of us cannot turn back--
Must learn from life—but try advice to share. 


V Anderson-Throop 2013 ©
Categories: gloried, life,
Form: Couplet

Hypnos

Oh Hypnos lord of all the lands of dream,
    Whose slumb’rous breath weaves eyes with poppy leaf,
    And whose sweet lullabies mortals relieve
Of throes, and shields them from the evil scheme
    Of Phobetor who roams around the world at close of eve,
 
Oh Hypnos, phantom o’er each mossy cot,
    Whose gentle, dreamy hands all place to rest
    The cooing birds found snoozing in their nest
And all the goats upon the meads where not
    A pallid moonbeam can descry, for all’s by night suppressed,
 
Or mortal denizens in cities, pent
    Or gleaming fish found in the ocean’s deep,
    Or cattle, waiting in the glens for sleep
To dawn upon their minds, and their souls send
    Into Elysium until the morn shall night’s shoots reap,
 
And plant its gloried beams into the bare
    And fill the lands with nec’trous, honeyed rays,
    Come on us, god of sleep, unearthly grace
From out the shadows of your mystic lair,
    And spread across our waking minds your thick, morphean haze.
 
How much I’ve agonized and yearned to gain
    The lavender and eat such dozy bud,
    And try to fall asleep, and ever nod
As I get lost and stray in dream’s domain,
    But never have I had success for slumber I could not!
 
I roamed across the clouds of yester night
    And round the meadows of the yesteryear,
    But never can I my bright spirit steer
Into such sleep, and take upon my flight
    Into deep slumber’s den, until, Hypnos you did appear,
 
And eased my mind and soul, and with your spells
    Had quelled the raging passions of my heart,
    And carefully had closed the draws to part,
Once you had done your deed and slowed the swells
    Of my free spirit, and had my sore mind with slumbers barred…
     

© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov
Categories: gloried,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Mock Orange Blossoms

Early summer flowering deciduous shrubs, 
And I among them came and went with
Philadelphus virginalis,
Their brightening solar ships.

Its natural tendency is to grow vase-shaped,
Clipping encourages the plant to fill out 
And become dense, and in my final spring
It performed beautifully, flowering prolifically.


Mock orange is not a heavy feeder.
It loves sun and reads memories 
On cactus leaves with sideways glares, 
Though on an "established" plant, 
One should prune out about one-third 
Of the old growth (the trivialities of life's Agur), 
Allowing the gloried lightness of day 
To seize upon bright green leaves.
Categories: gloried, nature
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Yellow Illumination

Bright summer day; the midday sun glowing high in the sky
Beaming down on sunflowers as they turn their heads to follow it
The afternoon gloried with yellow illumination




Sijo Poem Poetry Contest/Winner(Honorable Mention)
Sponsored by: Heidi Sands 
Date written and posted: 05/26/2018
Categories: gloried, day, flower, imagery, nature,
Form: Sijo

Calcutta Horologe

Far from the madding crowd
I treasure the myths you gone through
Once I walk down the streets of legends
Even the weeping dusts reminds me of 
Bloods, who immolated their lives to you.
 
Oh Calcutta! You live with a pride
For ages you are loved
They valued glory above life itself
When they speak of valiance
And guns are still fired in the air
Withal due respect of those souls
Who deserved their nascence 
In the realm of your freedom.
 
Oh Calcutta! You live with an honesty
Not because of the madding crowd
Because you are blessed with eternity
As she flows with her gentle ripples 
That streams the ambit of almighty purity
When I voyage down the river
I breathe the air of immortality.
 
Far from the madding crowd
I travel down the busy streets of the city,
The antique edifices still provides me with
The evidence of such superiority,
Walls still fends against the political conspiracy.
 
Oh Calcutta! You live with prosperity
Though affected by the madding political crowd
Once you were ruled by the dwellers
Now your sanity being destroyed immensely
By your own posterity
Living in the land of divinity 
Of goddesses Durga and Kali
And they still feigned that they are native.
 
Oh Calcutta! You live with heritages
Not beacuse of the busy primal edifices 
But you have the world known aged cantilever bridge
And over a century living the tramways.
Your marbles are still gloried by the dwellers
And they still wonder the hand pulled rickshaws
And admire for the age old alleys.
 
Far from the madding crowd
I still come across the pavements by the busy roads
Coins dropping with bimetallic sounds in the beggar's bowl
The vendors hallooing with prices on a rhythmical prose
And as I step ahead, I find my foot stuck in the crud mid of the road.
 
Oh Calcutta! You still live with diversity
Not beacuse of the poor and rich
But you still have few people left helping you in needs
You still have one culture you were born with
Hindu-Muslims celebrating together both Id and Autumn fests
Joining their hands with the christians when December ends.
 
Oh Calcutta! You still live with your beauty
Not only beacuse you have the beautiful bengali adorned brides
But you still have the chapters of noetic minds
You still exist with love and peace
Only when I find you far from the madding crowded streets.
Categories: gloried, dedication, nostalgia, people, urban,
Form: Free verse

Eternal Timber

The Cross is our crutch: we are lamed and maimed,
Crippling sin in our soul,
Defiled and scourged, our faith defamed,
Golgotha our gloried goal.

The Cross is a bludgeon for smiting down
Death in his sable gown.
It’s Roman-hewn and Jesus-borne,
Encircled with blood-flecked thorn.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gloried, faith
Form: Verse
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