Best Grandly Poems
On the Horizon
My limbs and leaves are trembling
My green days of shade and blue shadow near gone,
For on the near horizon lies
The first cold flail of fall.
To compensate, my Maker made
My edges to wondrously curl and color
Dipping and spiraling as butterflies,
‘Ere I am browned and blown
To the ground.
I remember when I raised my head
After dark winter’s bitter gales,
Stretching my arms and blossoming,
And being caressed in warm sun, adored.
From that gracious beginning adulation,
Rich maturity and pride were mine,
My limbs grew long and reached strong,
Higher and higher to the sky.
From days fast passing, I must then bid farewell
Grandly with gold, blazing red and orange
To let winter have its hibernate way
As I Leave this short life behind
And pray for one more.
It stood on the top of the hill
dominating all of its surrounds.
Its drawbridge these days lay open
spanning with ease the now dry moat.
Like a fairy tale fortress it had turrets
that soared up high brushing the clouds.
Its four towers majestic as blankly,
they stared, covering all points of the compass.
Slit windows peered out of casements
through walls up to six feet thick.
The massive double oak doors
fifteen feet high and twelve wide
stood thrown open allowing glimpses
of the enormous courtyard beyond.
Battlements led to each round tower
that once housed the nobles.
Old battered forgotten furniture
grandly carved four poster beds.
A sword or two lay scattered
amidst the clutter and bird dropping.
Wide stone staircases meandered
curling round and round the walls.
A gallery or two dotted here and there
perfect hiding places above the hall.
Some for musicians to play unseen
Their notes floating through the air
as below the dancers swept and strutted
as the ladies hooped dresses swirled.
Long tables once laden with food
stood a skiff with broken legs.
Wooden pint tankards higgledy piggledy
strewn about midst wooden platters.
Tattered standards limply lay motionless
against walls dotted with scattered torches.
The Lord of these lands killed in distant lands
leaving an infant son removed to the city
by his grieving mother who sought to forget.
Now ninety years later his grandson views
the devastation of years of neglect and vows
to return the castle to the glory of its heydays.
After three long years of often brutal work
removing shrubbery, moss and decay
Life starts to re-emerge Flags flutter
gaily high up on the battlements.
Chandeliers sparkle and the torches flicker
Tables once more groan with a feast of food
Happy shrieks of laughter fill the grand hall
And one would swear the castle wore a smile,
as children played around the buttress's.
One day there will be a harvest like no other we’ve ever seen,
The day God harvests His people and casts out those that are unclean.
Only those that are fruitful and have fed on His word,
And drank from His living waters will have the right to be heard.
For those who were sinful and scoffed at His name,
Will suffer their consequences and be turned away for their shame.
For the day of the harvest all chances have ceased,
And the outcome is simple, the lake of eternal fire or God’s heavenly feast.
Forever in paradise or forever tormented in hell,
The choices you make determines where you will dwell.
No more excuses will you make as your name is called and you face Judgment Day,
You’re either rewarded grandly or sentenced to forever pay.
It is not for me to judge, only am I to try and save a few souls,
To turn their lives around and make heaven their only goal.
Daily read your Bible and praise and thank God for all that He has done,
And above all else especially thank Him for sending us His only Son.
Oh baneful yellow Moon in fullest rounded sphere,
Bright as Summers Buttercups in abundant yield,
Coldly riveted upon Winters beaten, thin silvered panels;
Thereof: By ye mighty hammer doth great thoth wield!
For what fearful trowel gouged out thine far flung valleys
Whilst piling high upon yon monstrous heights?
Wherest, scattering the bare pebbles, a ghostly sower
Coursing across vast cratered plains under Selenian moonlights.
Here once didst thou swelling tides ever invade long vanished shores
Dragged upon by some dwindling, exploded, far distant star;
An atmosphere girdling, warming and nurturing -
Torn from this barren rock and cast way out afar!
Eternally ostracized and deviled, adorned in black swirling robes;
Drifting angular grains heaped - raked by hot solar winds;
Your desolate kingdoms lit in all seasons under heavenly lanterns;
Worshiped and foully cursed upon: for any amount - and all manner of sins.
And ere did erstwhile lovers that ever come forth on bended knee,
To traverse the pale beams that twist about the crooked stiles,
Pledge well intended oaths beneath high, impossible windows:
Their grandly draped balconies and balustrades bathed in luminosities wiles.
When across the recorded centuries of histories misted-veiled years,
from the quill of the old sage, from the high lilt of the bard,
Your pensive countenance disaffected and of a cheerless tilt -
Hanging upon sharply crested vestiges of reckless disregard!
Mother Nature, Athena and Mother Earth
Apply wisdom and beauty to life
they're icons whose bounty has infinite worth
offering sustenance throughout strife
Mother Mary grants us mercy and love
Our flag; long may she wave
Venus, the love god, shines above
Amazon women; so strong and brave
Accolades for such women never cease
Their value cannot be denied
Noble women of love, courage and peace
who we admire and in whom we confide
But women who aren't symbols, myths or gods
are never so grandly exalted
they may have value no one ever lauds
But for our original sin are faulted
This tribute is to women, here on earth
Thank you for your guidance and love
And for providing the gift of birth
The rib of Eve is fashion's price
A sadistic trap of six-inch heels
Some masochist's torture device
Or for added bust appeal
To wrap the torso so austere
And lift upon bands of steel
The French grandly name the brassiere
Paris, an exacting Madame
Wielding her whip of sharp cashmere
No slouching, suck in that diaphragm!
A lady glides on blistered feet
Starved to belong, sweet tooth be damned
No sweat allowed in any heat
Only single digit sizes impress
Shunning all those more than petite
Sisters, what happened to progress?
Our feminist freedoms manifold
We deserve to be a mess!
Gray is lovelier than gold...
4/12/19
For Quirky Tercets contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Praise the Ruler of nations!
God is mightier than anybody:
they try to defeat His army,
but can they win against angels?
Even Jesus, the shining sun,
defied death and amazed many:
the massive stone rolled away...
He was no longer mocked by men!
Praise the Ruler of nations!
Proclaim His name from every corner,
and although He's invisible, He's near...
whenever we're afflicted by wretchedness!
Had God not sent Jesus to save us indeed,
we wouldn't have any hope for happiness;
had God's love not been so grandly revealed:
we would be living a life of total wretchedness!
Praise the Ruler of nations!
He'll inflict misery on the ones disobeying Him;
He'll fill the endless skies with brimstone and fire!
Hail to the Ruler of nations!
Unquestionable is the foolishness of Kim,
but his desire for conquest will end in dire!
Copyright ( c ) 2017 by Andrew Crisci
Amidst great ocean of life --- voyaging
I’m blest with the Lord’s granted fellowship
partnership-bliss in faithful stewardship…
Captain is Christ by His love’s engaging.
Along life's trip, I've learned Bible ships’ facts
attesting the Creator’s supreme hand
working by His omnipotent command
assuring sweet peace from evil attacks.
With God’s sovereign design, notable
Noah’s Ark in Genesis does prevail
as Earth’s first ship fulfilling divine sail
to preserve creation, grandly noble.
As a floating zoo against water might
Almighty-propelled vessel was haven
for animals while showers poured from heaven
bound Noah’s family with home’s delight.
One sea-vessel expressed by the Scriptures
showed baby Moses on his gracious trip
handled by the omniscient Father’s grip
the buoyant basket wrought great adventures.
Victorious ship in the Old Testament
surmounted grievous horrible tempest
when Prophet Jonah passed obedience test
admitting guilt for pardon fulfillment.
The greatest was the ship* of Jesus Christ
encountering numerous miracles
with the Saviour calming all debacles
by His truth and guidance, mercy-sufficed.
In this journey toward eternity
sailing with my Captain in reaching-out
as fisher of men midst soulwinning bout
I’m safe in His friendship of grace-bounty.
*Mark 5:21 And when Jesus was passed over again by ship unto the other side, much people gathered unto him: and he was nigh unto the sea.
November 7, 2021
4th place, "A Noteworthy Ship" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Liguori; judged on 11/11/2021.
You gifted me a sunny day,
as rains poured from opaque sky gray,
I made to you a fervent plea,
a sunny day you gifted me.
The bright day held my forlorn hand,
took me to an emerald land.
My despair sunburst sky dispelled,
my forlorn hand the bright day held.
The full moon grandly passed me by,
stardust showered from satin sky.
Telling me you’d be with me soon,
grandly passed me by, the full moon.
Spring zephyr blew in tuneful surge,
your gift of joy charmed me with urge.
In my heart grew the yearning new,
in tuneful surge spring zephyr blew.
_______________
September 6, 2022
Syllable count : 8 per line (HMS)
Rhyme checked with RhymeZone.com
Contest : Swap Quatrain
Sponsored by : Emile Pinet
The world that once was slumbering
Beneath the quilt of Winter's snow
Is now set free to gladly see
The rays of golden sunlight
He peeks at first so shyly through
The drifting clouds of leaden grey
And then, behold his beams of gold!
A kiss of gentle sunshine
The trees are budding, flowers bloom
And shades of gentle green abound
The birds of spring so sweetly sing
While kissed by rays of sunlight
How father-like the sun looks down
In glorious warmth and light
To see the things his fire brings --
The miracle of sunshine
From east to west he travells on
In grandly royal golden robes
A pilgrim man, that once began
Benignly sending raylets
As here I watch th'unfolding spring
And bask in beams of heaven's king
I think of monarchs, once divine
Whose wond'rous kingdoms once did shine
This sun hath missed not one poor soul
But fondly with a tender touch
Hath kissed the maids that dwelt in glades
Of distant lands now vanished
Now all, I think, once gently kissed
Have sung the praise of heaven's rays
And all, it seems, that Sun hath wist
Have tracked his run throughout their days
His rhythmic climb and equal fall
While heeding Nature's firmest call
His constant change, yet still the same
When once returned from whence he came
A mystery, a miracle
At times a friend, at times severe
But each new day at Dawn's approach
Reveals the kiss of sunshine
Hailed as “Pearl of the Orient Seas” is my country
God has blessed her with bounty so richly precious
Including a glorious, peculiar history…
That really makes me constantly freedom-conscious.
In Southeast Asia is where she's settled grandly
Possessing distinct culture she shares with neighbors;
Her heritage nurtured thru virtues lived by daily
Exposes me to good values as right armors.
With her triumphantly fought-for independence
Wrought by God’s sovereignty with people’s unity
Along heroes’ ardor, powered by love’s providence…
Now, I’m anchored by peace and justice-certainty.
By right governance, my country is doing well
Against evil society’s destructive attack
My fellow citizens’ great fortitude level
Helps me rise, as I, too, lift my pals at my back.
Midst challenges besetting my country’s courage
Despite crises and calamities she must face
Still, her residents stand resilient in every stage…
Thus, I do pray for her to prevail by God’s grace!
I thank God* for my good country and great nation,
This is where my identity is perfected...
“Mabuhay ang Pilipinas!” My assertion!
“Long live the Philippines!” I declare, elated!
*Psalm 69:30 I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving.
August 23, 2018
Edited on June 25, 2023
1st place, "If Your Birthplace-country was a poem" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon; judged on 7/8/2023
You’re hailed as “Pearl of the Orient Seas”
The Creator* has blessed you with rich endowments
Including a peculiar history, indeed great…
Making me thankful for making you the land of my birth.
In Southeast Asia is where you’re grandly settled
Possessing distinct culture you share with neighbors;
Your heritage nurtured through virtues lived by daily
Exposes me to good moral values.
With your triumphantly fought-for independence
Wrought by the Lord’s sovereignty with people’s unity
Along heroes’ ardor, powered by patriotism and love
I’m now anchored by peace, justice and freedom-might.
“Mabuhay ang Pilipinas!”** My assertive declaration!
“Long live the Philippines!” I shout with gratitude!
*Isaiah 40:28 Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding.
**The Tagalog words for "Long live the Philippines!"
December 24, 2019
2nd place, "Whitman-Inspired Uplifting Poetry, old or new" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire; judged on 1/20/2020.
Peace surrounds me on this day in May
as I let destiny have it's own way
I smile down on whom I am
made grandly by all my yesterdays
I will live again and
all my hopes and dreams shall not shatter
I am destiny's lost prodigal child,
May has been a source of pain for me
Seeming to harm me with it's innocent days
hidden in coy smiles, yes it lied many times
but not today, the day after yesterday
beginning all my tomorrows
We can not always live in the growing fields of flowers
picking them and hanging them up to dry
somehow in making something beautiful
we forgot them and they did not dry, yet died
We can not always hold onto our flowers
some do not fare well to the process of living dry
so today is not tomorrow nor yesterday
but it will always be lost amongst some field of flowers
No garden to train, yet sheer joy in what is natural
for miles as far as the eye can see it is spring
and I pat my body down, I lived through the night
yes, I am alive, and did not die, as they live their destiny
Yet, my flowers have no scent, and not many want them ,
but what glory can be found in the ordinary flower?
the garden of no surprise with many needs to thrive,
none, for there is nothing grander than a flower growing in fields wild
Next year, it will spread it's seeds in the wind and prosper
so much grander it will be each year there after, yes, growing wilder
and my prayer is no one will cut them down or poison them ever-after
yet someone will love the flowers growing wild tomorrow and the day after
May they become a heart's desire, and glory will forever remain
in those alive, and wild but never dried, or tamed,
for how can we say nice things about something,
we set aside to wither and die, in shame and pain,
that should always be allowed to grow wilder,
to wither and die not tomorrow or the day after
will edit when I get back home. SORRY GUYS!
He glides
his skates swishing
in a flurry of ice,
caressing with slow movements; mere
foreplay.
Silence
compels the crowd
disguises excitement
Great expectations fill the air.
All watch.
He stops
at center ring.
Ice gladiator all set
to make a kill gently, with grace.
Grandly.
Then flips.
Perfect landing!
He hears the crowd’s applause~
incense daring him show his skills.
Dazzling.
Teasing
with his body ~
a hypnotic magnet
becoming a blur of colors.
Blending.
Music
goes mad as he
circles with dizzy speed~
a human whirling, spinning top.
Gidddy.
Floating
as in a dream
one cannot get out of.
Now he’s a leaf falling in slow
motion.
Still more
he builds into
a climactic finish~
a tornado that goes in a
frenzy.
He drops,
slips on his foot;
loses balance and dives
his nose flat on the cold ice. All
are stunned.
There, parked in rows
like overused commas
or German prose
or mothballed bombers
lay ranks of rats
as if on drill,
but quite as dead
as vaudeville.
Someone had slit
each ventral hide
and pulled it back
to peek inside.
And there they lay,
flat on their backs,
guts on display,
paws pinned by tacks.
Ashamed, they were,
like party-crashers,
with gaping fur,
like little flashers.
Those organs, packed
so coral-fine,
would soon be hacked
by Class B-9.
Unseeing eyes
stared at the ceiling,
but woke in me
a fellow-feeling.
We’re all the same.
We want to live.
Why dish out blame?
Why bring a sieve,
sort sheep from goats,
grandly decide
who lives and dies?
To my distress,
those little guys
with upturned throats
and parted coats
were nothing less
than crucified.