Best Grayish Poems
~The Narwhal Beckons Before Dawn~
If I could sing a song,
It wouldn't be just any song.
I would sing a song about a fish
A fish who is not a fish, but a whale
Not just any whale, A Narwhal
This night I'll sing a short song of a whale
Dancing under the moonlight dusk
Swimming with ivory tusk, underwater musk
Rising to the morning glory in the sky
Communicating with the waves
Squealing around,
Trilling and clicking supersonic sounds
If I could tell you a tale
It wouldn't be just any tale
I would tell you a tale of a fish
A fish who is not a fish, but a whale
Not just any whale, A Narwhal
Grayish brown,
White freckled belly crown
Elusive and mysterious
Without the Arctic water, I'll get delirious
A rare whale, with a tooth for a hoot
Enjoying shrimp, squid, and fish food
Taking care of the young,
I swim in pods all day long
I' stay away from what consumes my cod
Polar bears, orca whales and native spear
My greatest fear and nightmares.
If I could share some words
It wouldn't be just any words.
I would share some words about a fish
A fish who is not a fish, but a whale
Not just any whale, A Narwhal
Deep, down the ocean odyssey
My beliefs and skin peel easily
With a tear, I drown
When called "The Underwater Unicorn"
My words are naught more than a sad song I sing
A tale of a whale not just any whale, A Narwhal
The next time you go out to sea
Looking for blubber and ivory
Please don't look at me!
For I am just a Narwhal
And, I belong to the sea
~*~
09/15/2015
Contest: Any Poem You Ever Wrote NOT For A Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Abandon through the flowing blue ice streams,
then rise to thirsty trees and fields of dreams.
Abandon in the beige fields of Indian red autumn,
skeletal keepers lean from the fragrant ledge then forgotten.
Abandon through the weaving champagne sunbeams,
stairway to nirvana, most transient gleams.
Abandon in golden salamander orange, that hath,
set archway of pendulous amber stipule path.
Abandon in the summer sky blue waterfall,
frond through the echoes, grayish fog call.
Abandon in lichen depth and pinnacle spears,
bent and rooted in the brown, in deaf ears.
Abandon in liquescent hands, in its melancholy vale, slowly unfurl,
meeting once more in a dying golden pearl.
Reaching for the stars, yet the soul hath life diviner.
Let it sooth my bleak sorrow and my ashen sin, a love finer.
6/26/2018
Your man
O' fallen leaf of barren branch
doth charge my heart, my aching heart
with missing you, needing you
On sun dried earth I lay,
grasping at my dreams, so desperate,
find that in this depth
felled by wind of colder days,
my life doth need your touch
so very much it calls to thee,
come to me, cover me
shower me with hope ~
so far you stand
~
I feel as if I am a tiny creature,
an ant on the pavement
with cracks and crevice deep
Foundling for the distance far,
searching of a path to reap
to thy heart, thy arms
O' breath of love I beg thee home,
to lie with you this eve,
this winters eve
of far off arches and grayish glare
~
My travels take me long away
Places I am lost to stay
find this man a’ crying
tears of love for thee, tears of despair
Crying, weeping, hoping, begging,
come to me,
come to me my love, my dream
into my open arms ~ waiting
~
The day might fill the emptiness
with broken branches barren so
dare I say I have the right
to honor love from you,
hold it so within my heart aching
My needs are many,
the truth has shown
for languished features painted hard,
hard against my weathered skin, rough, broken
I scream, my voice still faint of tone,
louder as is nothing less
sorted by the evening breeze
blowing strong against the fence
~
I desire thee to touch me,
kiss me, hold me, take me
The flames of passion brightly burn
igniting but this love I hold
So cherished is your heart
I feel it pounding, pulsing
within mine own chest
My quest is you and only you,
design me, I am yours,
make me as you would,
carve me, bend me, mould me,
sculpt me to be ~
your man
Good night Soupers
Ok, I got carried away a little. : )
You were drawn to its contours
worn smooth by the elements
over eons of existence;
cream colored and streaked with grayish blue
with its scattering of sparkle -
ensconced in the sand
special amongst the many on the rocky beach
a souvenir from the shore
of the day we walked in its mist
and the wind blew our footsteps
this way and that way
as well as our thoughts
while we reminisced…
now..
it is where you left it;
stoic
and sentimental
it stands vigil
on the small windowsill
overlooking the pathway to my door
awaiting your return
my beloved daughter
...as it patiently endures
it is the perfect representation
of
my heart
Susan Ashley
July 30, 2018
Written: November 06, 2023
___________________________________________
A swarm of herring gulls amassed
Nexus Nautilus nabbed by zealous winds,
whitening the black soil
we hold spears in our hands.
blood-stained thorns on the side
sullen squawks a skirmishing sporophyte,
dubious, grayish rumors must be buried
drave in a drizzle, drape to deities.
Installation of sentry fences
Sisyphean stones
anchor down using seal and string
flaws in the swings used by blacksmiths
Unborn burning bullion bludgeon
Savage sunless swords embryonic
Edgeless, with no reflections.
Each peak over the Edenic Steppes is sprayed,
using torn paper candles as bait
climbing scaffolds with lumber rungs
pounding of leather-heavy boots
darkened, grimacing features
Flocks failing feathers or flight.
Our hold slips on windswept
Windswept updrafts carry us away
as offspring of the royal family.
(In the words of a happy little mermaid)
I slide through silky cerulean seas
Silently swimming wherever I please;
I glide through water with buttery ease,
With skin that is smoother than ivory keys.
There are secret gardens I love to explore
Far below the world on the ocean floor,
Where are colors no man has seen before
Hidden in an underwater treasure store.
Deeper down in the sea, where I go on a whim,
The light is so far it is grayish and dim;
There the masts of shipwrecks rise dark and slim,
And coins of gold line passages I swim.
On tropical islands with flowing waves
I play in uncharted, mysterious caves,
Or nap in the sunlight's golden rays
In a silent shoal on balmy days.
I pick pretty flowers to put in my hair
And splash in the shallows with never a care;
The droplets shine like diamonds in the air,
Rising and falling like a crystal flare.
When the day is over, the dolphins sing mass
And the sun sets fire on the leaping bass,
Then I lie in a bed much clearer than glass
And pray a sweet dream for this mermaid lass.
(Base USO club, Zweibrucken, Germany, 1963)
Of a lazy afternoon, I sit
propped up,
Bones aching, sorely tired from
lack of work,
And dutifully read the comic
strips
With bored eyes while my mind
dozes.
I sit enveloped in my peculiar
Grayish pallor, which clings
And will not disappear,
And martyr myself to the gods
of convention.
I smoke acrid-tasting cigarettes and
Loudly chew a cud of gum, popping it
Absent-mindedly, and I turn the
crinkly sounding
Pages, one after one, slowly
and intently,
So as not to disarrange the sheaf.
The dryish smell of printed
comic strips
Irritates my nose, but I don't
sneeze --
Merely wriggle it a bit for some
relief.
My brightly polished shoes are propped
Upon the table and I lean back and tilt
the chair, and my hair
Is closely cropped and combed with care,
no strand
Out of place, pomaded and arranged.
My clothes are neat and clean
and stylish
And I brush away a nonexistent
crumb and
I slowly chew and loudly pop my gum,
Moisten index finger, moisten thumb,
And turn the colored printed page
of comics,
Snicker at the antics pictured
While I glance about.
And wonder.
She and the handsome gentleman finalized the contract, and he gently placed
the antique pearl necklace into the palm of her tiny hand. As he walked away,
she fantasized about making love with him, for he possessed both charm and
exceptional good looks; he certainly was enchanting...thick, black wavy hair,grey-
green eyes...tall...muscular ~ oh, those muscles...all over his tanned body...head
to toe.
But she wondered about that limp as he walked away, depending on a heavy
metal
staff
for
balance...
after all, an eternity of beauty and power in exchange for
one
pathetic
soul.
The evening of the deed was a frigid six degrees, and there was a dead smell of
the sun. She stayed late after work, waiting anxiously until everyone had gone.
Finally, he was alone in his office, so she placed the pearl necklace around her
fragile neck and unbuttoned her red, silk blouse so to reveal her sexy red
camisole.
She entered the office, and gently leaned over him from behind; he was aroused
by the scent of her "Red Door" cologne...his favorite, and his senses were even
more heightened as he turned around and observed her erect breasts speaking
in a language only he understood. With his large hands, he slowly explored her
thighs, making his way up her black skirt.
"You have beautiful legs."
"You think so, huh?"
They kissed, and the necklace brushed his chest; he didn't feel well, at all. He
was hot...so hot, and his body began its metamorphosis, retaining a grayish
tinge....then blackish...
He
burst
into
flames;
then, disappeared along with all omens of the deed.
She walked over to the black wrought iron mirror and smiled; her wrinkles were
gone...vanished...just as promised; she was ten years younger.
The windows began sweating, and the handsome stranger appeared.
"I have one more assignment for you."
"But we made a deal, one soul."
She began to feel peculiar, and as she viewed herself in the black mirror, she
began aging...ten years...twenty...thirty...she pulled out a large clump of thin, white
hair.
The room darkened from his moonly mind.
"My dear, the other soul...is yours."
/I\
~a branch
snuggles it tight,
messing ivory ringlets
while beneath the orchard,
grayish cones on iced moonlight rips.
Winter now bears her dry skin, as children
romp around a frozen trunk with boughs gleaming
like crystal tassels. Nippy a fir which quavers through
whiffs of glacial air : the assemblage of leaves
falling through hardened snowflakes...
Quietly, new moon brightens this view
Crowning its frothy head on an evening
where owls
trembling
dizzily on
its twigs,
hoot low
eyes wide;
until the tangy scent pervades
long after evergreen slumbers on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
12/6/2018-- Revised
Shape Contest for Eve Roper
There Winter Lonely Fallows Deeply Dream
Long after that ripe golden sunset gleam
Cool silvery tones, wavering light;
Then winter lonely fallows deeply dream
Into the grayish ghostliness of night.
Far off, yet looming bold and strangely near,
Within starry heavens they are aureoled,
Forested mountain-ranges far westward rear
Their high guardian towers as of old.
And lo! above their ancient stormy deeps,
In pensive grandeur, icy frozen browed,
One glorious forest summit there keeps
Transcendent vigil alone, pure and proud.
And we who see that shining symbol turn
A moment's while from its lone transient mood;
From that brief moment we clearly discern
Our lost souls within Nature's solitude.
Robert J. Lindley
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 160
Total # Lines: 19 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 103
https://www.google.com/?gws_rd=ssl#q=fallows+meaning
fal·low1
'falo/
noun
plural noun: fallows
1.
a piece of fallow or uncultivated land.
verb
3rd person present: fallows
1.
leave (land) fallow.
Origin
Old English fealgian ‘to break up land for sowing,’ of Germanic origin; related to Low German falgen .
fal·low2
'falo/
noun
plural noun: fallows
a pale brown or reddish yellow color.
Origin
Old English falu, fealu .
Translate fallows to
Use over time for: fallows
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/aureole
Aureole
noun au·re·ole \'o?r-e-?ol\
Popularity: Bottom 40% of words
Definition of aureole
1
a : a radiant light around the head or body of a representation of a sacred personage b : something resembling an aureole UNSUPPORTED CODE
2
: radiance, aura UNSUPPORTED CODE
3
: the luminous area surrounding the sun or other bright light when seen through thin cloud or mist : corona
4
: a ring-shaped zone around an igneous intrusion
aureole transitive verb
----------------------
Note- Sorry my friend- I know I promised you a sonnet on winter and Nature written today but my muse insisted on two more verses.
I learned long ago. my muse is a very vindictive beast when disobeyed.
I love my Mousey,
She lives in a field in BrushCreek, Tennessee,
Walking with her her of cattle,
As happy as she will ever be.
Without this there would be only she,
And i could make her as happy as me,
I miss her immensly, for thee i wish well,
For everyday i wish she wont sell,
And I could show her in the Dekalb County Fair,
I would sell never an ounce of her.
Hehe not even one of her little white hairs.
Even when all the way over there,
Mine she is for no one but me to share, if I do so happen to dare.
Cute as a button,
A button her nose may well be,
Where I first touched her sweet little body,
Not once but twice sweetly,
For wherever she goes I could spot her, along with her sister and mother.
Many a mile away, for she is not at all,
Not at all what you would say a little grayish thing.
But a heifer who grows daily,
Only to shove the motherly tears away.
In my eyes though, she will always be, forever and always, my baby girl, my sweetie,
my beautiful girl, my Mousey
Judge Mental People
throwing rocks at crippled dogs
torturing non-classroom frogs
wallowing in self made bogs
pure jealously – non-feral hogs
consuming nothing but the same
the daily slop, a little grain
the grayish mud a match for brain
an open gate too much a strain
peering from their darkened sty
envying the darting fly
suspicious of the black crows cry
entrenched in deep snouted lie
believing that their bloated shrieks
elevate such brutish freaks
to tops of clear sky bluish peaks
to trash the goals that others seek
warriors without a soul
fighting from deep in a hole
guarding the emptiness they stole
mocking the songs of bridgeless troll
©11/8/2017
submitted to – Judgmental People And Haters – Poetry Contest
As My Bare Feet Felt Cold Of Hoary Frost
As my bare feet felt cold of *hoary frost
I wandered the back pasture dazed and lost
Night had sent me into a sad dawn's grasp
Waking to horrors I let out a gasp
Sun sat silent and dark in a harsh sky
Its broken heart one would surely deny
Echoing wind summoned courage to blow
Set willing flowers to put on a show
In each dance they swayed back and forth in time
I could almost hear steps in perfect rhyme
Sun sat silent and dark in a harsh sky
Its broken heart one would surely deny
As Heaven found my horrid plight a loss
It vowed to teach Nature it is the boss
With a snap that old dark sun did bright shine
In a wink, smile brought to this face of mine
Sun was gleaming proud in jubilant sky
Its swift repaired heart, none could deny
Robert J. Lindley, 4-16-2019
Rhyme, ( A Dream I Once Did Find )
*hoar·y
/'hôre/
adjective
1.
grayish white.
"hoary cobwebs"
synonyms: grayish white, gray, white, (1.)*silver, silvery* ; More
I am sitting on the cliff overlooking the river
Far below in the crevice of the mountains,
Where the waters meander like a ribbon
And the rafters are tiny figurines fighting
The currents like whirligigs on the creek.
It’s a fine place to ponder life’s options,
When all seems grayish skies and bleak
And words come slowly to fit the writing,
While the mind wanders free unbidden
Ideas bubbling up like creative fountains
Thoughts as elusive as slippery quicksilver.
written September 23, 2021
[written in reverse rhyme
scheme ABCDEFEDCBA]
(Inspired by the painting La Victoire by René Magritte)
A giant door has opened
upon a yellow shore
No rooms contain it
This huge high door
stands with blue water
on its opposite side
Between the blue
of firmament and sea
is a grayish background
A cloud has settled
at the top
left portion
of the peculiar door
Strangely, the cloud
is suspended
mid-air
inside the open space
that faces away from
the water
I stand before the door
pondering its purpose there . . .
I ponder MY purpose there
If I should pass through it,
will I find myself
walking toward water -
to immerse myself
in the cool of its blue?
Then it dawns on me
What if I can somehow
reach the cloud suspended
in the open doorway?
What if I could
grab hold of that
nearly unreachable cloud?
Envisioning this -
I become one with the cloud,
and I’m d r i f t i n g
inside
my own
imagination