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Best Heartfelt Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Heartfelt poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of heartfelt poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Don't stop! The most popular and best Heartfelt poems are below this new poems list.

Heartfelt Dismay by Krutsinger, Caren
Heartfelt Expression by Asuncion, Bernard F.
A heartfelt invocation to God by roy, purbasha
A Heartfelt Surrender by J.T., Honestly
Kyrielle Sonnet - My Love Heartfelt by Talbot, Mick
A LIFE TIME HEARTFELT VOW by musore, reagan
With Heartfelt Appreciation to Poetry Soup and Soupers by Wolf, Gershon
Heartfelt Ideas by Krutsinger, Caren
Heartfelt Wish And Regard by Asuncion, Bernard F.
heartfelt by O'Haolin Whalen, David

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The Best Heartfelt Poems

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One Brief Moment

Look...See how long nights are drawing in.
Dreary birdsong gradually abates -
Opaque dusk grows dim;
And just outside the creaky little garden
Stood opposite the empty wood
Where the vacant threshold silently awaits,
I pause, when, resonating quietly back...
I now hear...
Far distant echoes of my glorious childhood 
Tugging like a Siren upon my ear.

With a heartfelt pang I turn to move,
Before my staring should offend some 
Old friends ghost
To manifest in vengeful affright,
Towards the comforting sanctuary proffered
By the warm kitchens weak neon light...
That sneaks out from behind the half-shut
But held - Transfixed! 
Brought from wither-not-where to this one
Small place - Staid...
As if caught in a state of heavenly grace,
Conversing to the soft wind in harmonious 
Angelic rapport:-
Thus soothes like enchantments waves...
Rolling gently up to repeatedly break upon 
Magical banks girdling Nivians lakeshore.

For what be this odd muse 
That upon my aging senses does so readily
And to my inner soul so inextricably
Ahhh...But this much I may be allowed to 
Before darkly gathering skies extinguish 
Over weak flames of the last spluttering
Perhaps it is our inner voice
That seeks out the solitudes of 
Tranquilities choice -
To witness and record and dutifully store...
Those rare and fleeting moments 
We all too briefly adore.

Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2016

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The View From A Window

A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Whose rusting hue, 
Momentarily ignited by stray 
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives with all the colours of a
From vibrant red through to shy
Hints of indigo;
Those vague outlines indicating 
Receding hills;
Here, arising, long ago, every waking 
The creaking structures
Of groaning and imposing mills;
Soon a slow thawing that quickly 
Into the trickling replenishments 
Of many gushing and silvery little 

Enchantment gripped me!
And I found myself wistfully 
Maybe, perhaps, maybe, somewhere,
Just behind where the great 
Flattening Orb
Is now rapidly shrinking,
That I might, by perchance, find, 
If I did so hope to bravely dare,
To happen upon a hidden and 
Sedentary way of life up there?
That, forgotten, has turned its 
Back on the social conflicts 
Plagued by the curses of ingrained
Encumbering a soul with its petty 
Imposing upon with demands and
When placing unnecessary burdens 
On a honest bodies daily call
Of grinding toil and wearisome 

And still stood, 
With hands outstretched upon the
Painted sill,
At the waist half-bent,
Now troubled by quiet mutterings
In an inexplicable sorts
Of self-imposed discontent,
My staid consciousness almost 
As, momentarily distracted,
I hesitated, and, unseeing, 
Inattentively stared...
A ragged chapter of cawing Daws,
Loudly jabbering overhead,
Suddenly wheeled -
And upwardly soared!
Whereupon, in murderous haste,
Awkwardly fled
When laboriously stealing away
Back inside the stubbled fields...
Thus causing me to slowly straighten;
Whilst, with a singular heartfelt pang,
Liken a moorland mist slowly rolling
That indivisibly conceals...
Drew shut the sullen curtains, which, 
Heavily embroidered with indeterminate 
Dejectedly hang...
Each draped aside of the cold 

Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2017

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A Tear-ful Conversation With My Daughter

It starts with only one - one like me... a melancholy migrant from the immortal part of her to the locus of her physical being; the center of her emotional wisdom ~ I gain heartfelt strength as I gather my forces rising up en masse riding cresting waves of woe to breach the ramparts; the welling rims of her loving eyes. It starts with only one - one perfectly ripened drop of sorrow; this beautifully packaged pain and a lustrous cascade of soulful pearls ensues wept gems pouring forth from a pure heart ~ I am the tears your mother cries. Susan Ashley May 5, 2018 _________________________________ ~ Poem Of The Week ~ Week beginning Sunday, May 13, 2018 ——————————————— ~ Seventh Place ~ Contest: Early May Premiere (2018) Sponsor: Brian Strand

Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018

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The Gift of Poetry

A poet enters a private sanctuary,
A sacred place where the imagination
Dwells with a mélange of emotions
Conceived by aesthetic beauty,
Often divine and esoteric in nature;
That comprehensive longing to
Express through common language
That which is so vitally uncommon. 
Words that seek to form a bridge 
Between intellectual abstract thought
And the world of the inarticulate.

A way to express the depth of sorrow
While having it become a cathartic
Release, thereby relating to others
In commiseration and heartfelt empathy.
Poetry has the ability to help, to heal.
To reach souls enduring that same pain
May be a blessed gift poetry genuinely
Offers in a nonintrusive manner, helping
Lonely souls know they are not alone.

No-one escapes the loving light poetry sheds.
It dwells inside each of us, realized or not.
It teaches with simplicity, expands the mind,
Ingratiates itself without any effort when
Expressed with forethought and integrity.
It may stir emotions from the most stoic.
Speech itself, lives and breathes, and is poetic. 
Acquiesce to that silent voice inside which 
prevails upon the heart to be released in verse.

Poetry may elevate our spirit with such intensity 
To generate a feeling akin to euphoric bliss.
Poets, honored in past glory with the status of Kings,
Now dwell in a world often misunderstood by the
Masses too busy to take the time to regard its worth.
How fortunate for the insightful who appreciate and
Embrace the ageless, immortal soul poetry provides.
They are blessed and will give birth to future poets.

© Connie Marcum Wong

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015

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Soul Searching Trek Along Winter's Snow Painted Trails

Soul Searching Trek Along Winter's Snow Painted Trails

Waking to cold blown tent, ground frozen icy hard
woods are my love, as is poetry to a bard.
Today starts my anticipated forest trek,
seeking salvation from heart's emotional wreck,
last night I watched stars twinkle in heavenly skies
pondering how to overcome world's darkest lies.

Now dawn breaks, sends fresher pair of gem seeking eyes
desirous to find what Time, Fate and Earth denies,
finding cold breeze that blows snowflakes from white cream ground,
thankful for Nature's sanctuary here now found.
First step taken, this soul takes its desperate flight,
embrace anew, treasures that make life feel alright.

Through drifted powdered paths my healing does begin
rhythm of my brisk breath is like a cleansing hymn.
Serenity in solitude is what I seek,
in contemplative meditations I do speak
amongst the frosted firs a chapel for my prayers
in your Trust surrendering all worries and tears.

To slow life’s commotion and hush harsh emotion,
quiet communion in woodland is my potion -
sweetest swells of ecstasy makes my spirit swoon
in whitest snowdrop bloom my heart will follow soon.
With every snowy step I purify a thought
in this pristine Love I find absolution sought.

The winding trail I followed with a downcast face
and left behind the sorrow of my past disgrace.
Ascending farther to the snowy mountains peak
animated to discover my fate unique.
I shall not let my courage waver, not this time,
with weary steps I continue my forward climb.

The final steps to reach my summits divine light,
my mind virtuous as snowflakes of purest white,
I inhale the essence of life at nature’s hem,
finally free from chains of torment I condemn.
With Fate and Time to blend with Earth, I shall redeem
my dignity and recover my self-esteem.

Robert J. Lindley, Susan Ashley, Teppo Gren
(a collaboration - joining as one voice and one searching soul)

July 25, 2018

Poet's note: It was with great and deep pleasure that we three poets joined together to compose this poem. As our hearts and minds united to bring a harvest of beauty, treasures and soul finding solace within a journey through Nature's garden and its soul soothing solitude, covered in whitest of snowflakes and heart's seeking desires.
My heartfelt thanks goes to my two wonderful and awesomely talented co-writers, Susan Ashley and Teppo Gren. To have the true honor of creating with such dear friends is a blessing indeed!

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018

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In Celebration of Mothers

I celebrate wonderful mothers 
who always put the needs 
of their children first,
the single mothers who 
especially must sacrifice 
to help their children survive 
and thrive with little money
coming in, yet finding ways
to make them feel they fit in.

I celebrate mothers who dole 
out love in great abundance
and always take the time
to listen to their children's
concerns and problems
with sage advice that comes
from wisdom's experience.

I celebrate the grandmothers
who have stepped in to raise
their grandchildren when
their daughters can't or won't.
These are Earth's angels.

I celebrate the step-mothers
who raise their stepchildren
without any reservation,
loving them as their own.
They've earned a place in heaven.

I celebrate adoptive mothers
who raise their adopted children
with the same acceptance and 
love a birth mother bestows.
They are God's gracious gifts.

I celebrate the mothers who have
lost their children, through death,
kidnapping or by any other loss.
Their suffering cannot be gauged.
Let them receive blessed peace.

I celebrate the dear daughter in laws
who have become beloved daughters 
as they become mothers to their mother
in law’s precious grandchildren.

I celebrate the foster mothers
who give abused and orphaned
children a temporary loving home.
They have a direct line to the divine. 

I celebrate great grandmothers
who continue to teach their
daughters, granddaughters,
and great granddaughters, by
example, how to be great mothers.

I especially celebrate the homeless
mothers living on the streets, through
circumstances beyond their control, 
who somehow manage to 
keep their families together.

I celebrate those mothers who live
in impoverished countries who have
starved to make sure their children
have enough food to keep them alive.
Blessed mothers who’ve died for that sake,
and for those who have died giving birth.

I celebrate the time, effort and selfless
love bestowed upon every lucky
child who has been given the
precious gift of a loving mother!

A heartfelt Happy Mother's Day to all!

© Connie Marcum Wong
Poem of the Day for Monday 11 May, 2015

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015

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If e're we could move that mountain from between thee and me,
where would be lament or reason to grieve?
How remove the hollow from the tree, or shore from the sea?
What left would there be?
What if ere the beam lost it's moon.
Or lovely Autumn raiment lost it's tree? What then would it be?
Can one sow the seed without the land?
Would this be what Powers planned?

The grief, the longing, oh, the heartfelt gaze,
The strife the loneliness, but a soulful phase.
A mountain surmountable, a hollow fulfilled,
A sea able to be, a beam again spilled.

A stage again for raiment,... a fertile valley for seed.
Our love could not be boundless without the bonds of these.

Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2010

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Time to go home there’s that cursed bell Excitement for most - for him an impending hell A torturous journey - that takes him down life’s dark path His old friend ‘Panic’ enters causes a disturbing wrath ‘Humming the blues - got to choose - life or pain - pay the dues Got to cruise - feel the screws - no one cares if I win or lose The bell has rung - I walk among - a beast that preys - on the young With a tangled tongue - a sad song sung - the noose has strung’ Before the hyper ventilating starts - he must leave Can’t show them his cowardice - he does believe His projected fear - needs to be kept well hidden He’s part of the pack - so he knows it’s forbidden ‘The lone wolf cries - no more alibis - got to face the lies Hide the guise - cut the ties - frowning fear will hypnotise Swallow the pain - drain the brain - I sustain the strain My words detain - a recluse constrain - in a demons domain’ He hangs with the cool guys - they chose with care His muscles and strength - but he’s starting to despair This game they play - does not appeal like it did Preying on the weak and frail - his emotions he hid ‘Pressure from peers - hiding the tears - trying to switch gears Pride appears - with fermenting fears - yielding my youthful years I’m part of a clan - almost a man - fighting in streets without a plan No more a fan - go back to where I began - Hi my name is Stan’ To gain recognition - he accepted their invite Felt flattered at first- when they praised his fight Deception but a foolish game that he played well Stand up to them he must - to escape this Hell ‘Fists of fury - I’m now judge and jury - no more in a hurry It’s my new story, no more to worry, get rid of the bully No more in shame, myself to blame, time to put out the flame Not playing this game, so I can reclaim my original domain’ He’s hardly recognisable now - this boy called Stan He’s a boy with a purpose - and a very real plan The future for him - to bring bullies to their knees To clear his conscience and his sad past to release
Acknowledgement: My heartfelt thanks to Winged Warrior for collaborating with me on this important poem which highlights bullying and cyber bullying - major risk factors for teen suicide. Both the bullies and their victims are at risk according to a report from the American Academy of Pediatrics.' Music video by Bars and Melody performing Hopeful. (C) 2014 Simco Limited - Published on Jul 7, 2014

Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017

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Lullaby My Lustrous Twilight

Golden-flecked bliss of enraptured blown-kiss stardust bestrewn Beguiling skies bespangled sequin eyes shimmer in swoon In midnight hours from celestial bowers Lift blest voices Balmy hymns calm serenity’s sweet psalm saints’ rejoices Oh motherly heartfelt heavenly night lullaby my lustrous twilight Love - swaddle me in starlit cocoon’s blue singing silk songs till dawn’s debut Ambrosial dreams showered in jasmine streams angels’ water Immerse in sleep your virtuous well deep baptized daughter Melodic sky divinity’s stars sigh spiritual Nervana floats seraphs’ musical notes air's lyrical Oh motherly heartfelt heavenly night lullaby my lustrous twilight Love - swaddle me in starlit cocoon’s blue singing silk songs till dawn’s debut Susan Ashley December 22, 2018 ------------------------------ ~ POTD ~ December 24,2017

Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2017

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Newborn Flowers

A broken heart 
who humbly cries 
As the flames began melting 
tears hidden under the seabed

Sizzling hot a trail 
sparkles into the night sky
love comes in colors 
that kisses burn passion

Following your starlight flooding
memories are forever made pure
Even if you are not here
I can feel your warm breath 

Winking to the soul dream of dreams 
Together we can build a future palace
one without fear and pain
Destiny will be eternities shooting arrow 
Catching many rainbow on our roads path
Cupid strikes flying saucers land in your space 
wondering if things will ever be the same again
Captivating an angel strums tugging heartstrings 

Do you hear still the melody 
to the most beautiful song playing
Warmly exploring deeply touching tunes 
Covering the bed with rose petals 

Music plays a heartfelt chant sighs 
I miss you dearest flower forever more 
just like the desert misses rain
Whispers held on a cloud of breath beautiful 

A Collaborated Poem 
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid 
(unrhymed quatrain)

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016

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Ghosts of the Sun Dance-Part 1

Ghosts of the Sun Dance

1. The Path

A quest dating back through our history
Surpassing the flesh, a spiritual path
Human endurance, road to mystery
Dark trail winding through the gardens of wrath

It echoes through me, this deep ambition
Half century of miles, lifetime compressed 
Much more than a race, a sacred mission
With light of hardship I hope to be blessed

To outsiders, an act of madness pure
What motivations could compel this feat?
Past limits of human strength to endure
Pushing the body well beyond defeat

Mind and sinews outlasting the firestorm
Transcendence, to shed our skin and transform

2. Sun Dance

Transcendence, to shed our skin and transform
Once, Plains Indians embraced the Sun Dance
Sacred solstice ritual to perform
Life’s rebirth to the sound of drums and chants

Young braves fasting in their preparation
A stout pole connects the lodge to the sun
Days of reveling unite the nation
Dancers’ exhaustion, they seek to outrun

Animal spirits drawn in by the rhythm 
Forked tree with bison’s skull, hooks in their chest
Buffalo, bringer of potent vision 
Delirious dancers complete their quest

The Spirit Quest resounds through history
Beyond mundane, to sacred mystery

3.To Endure and Transcend 

Beyond mundane, to sacred mystery
Japan's “Marathon Monks” of Mount Hiei
The key to their spirit quest victory
To walk a Marathon one hundred straight days

Famed spiritual leader Sri Chinmoy
Believed hearts and spirits could be mended
Through self-transcendence, and he did enjoy
Countless long quests before his time ended

Chinmoy’s best, a fifty day epic quest
A journey thirty-one hundred miles long
Few are those who have ever passed this test
His famous Self-Transcendence Marathon

Darkest night, the gateway to a new morn,
Through painful trials, seeker’s soul reborn

4. The Spirit Is Willing

Through painful trials, seeker’s soul reborn
Deepest pain kindling the soul’s ignition 
Follow the path supplicants’ feet have worn
Transformation’s crux, soul transition

Our defenses and walls cannot let in
Sacred blessings of the gods and spirits
Impenetrable, much to your chagrin
They cannot touch your heart if you fear it

Mortification, a tribulation
Humble display of the supplicant’s worth
A spiritual emancipation,
Pain always accompanies any birth

These transitions in few modern nations
Our world, rare rites of initiation

5. The Fall

Our world, rare rites of initiation
Deconstructed, traditions have been burned
Soulless life breeds infantilization
Perpetuating the puer eterne

To make our lives easier is progress, 
Yet soft life an inadequate mantle
We can also suffer when life lacks stress
True transformation is never gentle

Safety, the goal of civilization
Eliminate risk, its increasing role
Safety’s bitter fruit is stagnation
Comfort cannot forge a resilient soul

Building true human vitality starts
With substance to satisfy questing hearts

6. Aimlessness

With substance to satisfy questing hearts
We dream to build greatness from the humble
Miseducation, meaninglessness start
Intrepid young souls questing for trouble

Drawn to drugs and gangs, tobacco and booze
No deep satisfaction do they contain
Oft mistaken for paying adult dues
But lead instead to spiritual chains

Youthful misadventures, trouble and blues
Sterile environment will generate
Tribal belonging they mark with tattoos
Clumsy efforts to self-initiate

Conquered world without initiations
Life’s road of genuine tribulations

7. Warrior’s Quest

Life’s road of genuine tribulations
Awaits our youth, whether they are prepared
Or not, we note with building frustrations
Future leaders, we see grow up impaired

The warrior within’s heartfelt yearning
A righteous cause in which to do battle
Meanwhile, the subway turnstiles are turning
Young champions doing time as cattle

Quests can be found for the searching young soul
Alas, the focus of education
Not on the development of the whole
But fashioning subjects of this nation

The challenge of living with one’s whole heart
Yielding to those who have mastered the art

Copyright by Author
For contest: Heroic Crown of Sonnets
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Syllables confirmed by

Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

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Pandora's Temptation

For the third time Pandora stands before the box Inlaid with jewels ivory and gold In her hand is the key – she closely examines Intrigued by its intricate patterns - so ancient- so old Her Creator’s mandate she has obeyed She won the love of Epimetheus and at her bidding Never to open their wedding box - he had never been tempted Her devoted lover despite brother Prometheus forbidding Her every wish - her husband’s command But Zeus’s words her obligation till today 'Ouchi to koityon anoiksis’ However wedding presents need to be opened Insatiable curiosity leading her to disobey She is aware the brothers had so angered Zeus When Heaven’s hearth fire they defiantly stole That was denied to mankind to teach them a lesson But she is unaware of the Gods plan and her critical role Like witches a brew they must concoct A female clay form fused to conception Zeus and the Gods hatched a heartless plan A woman will be part of their cunning deception The breath of life is bestowed by Athena From Aphrodite comes insatiability and beauty Music from Apollo - Speech by Hermes Bringing brothers to justice was her God given duty They named her Pandora - ‘The Bearer of Gifts’ Then present her they did to the brothers two Epimetheus captivated, enchanted when eyes first met Eager was he to plunge into the sweet sensual brew Brother Prometheus ever overly cautious Suspicious of this beautiful apparition Too late is his warning when Cupid appears Swift arrow finds its target without hesitation Pandora and Epimetheus are happily wed The plot that relies on mans greed starts to seed But in his zeal to punish - Zeus overlooked Love’s Power True Love will overcome a mere mortal’s greed FROM LIGHT TO DARKNESS - FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT ‘This priceless box must contain vast treasures The gold inlay alone must be worth a fortune’ Curiosity overcomes the fear of disobedience Then winds enter to blow away all caution Lifting the lid gently, Pandora closes her eyes Then opens them slowly prepared to be amazed Her looks of expectancy soon turns to horror There are things in there that make her afraid Out of the box pour moth like creatures Stinging her till she falls to the floor Pandora’s Box has unleashed to the world Poverty, Misery, Disease and opened Death’s door Epimetheus in his love rushes to her aid Slamming the lid, but alas it is too late They sting him as well and as they lie together In the throes of death - her action sealed Mans Fate Softly so softly the flapping of wings A little voice imploring for its release On opening the box emerges a dragonfly of beauty Exuding such feelings of calmness and peace She alights on them, she breathes air like kisses, Curing their afflicted wounds and their sorrow Releasing them from Death’s Dark Wishes To make amends for a new tomorrow In this precise moment Pandora knows her name A changer of circumstances presenting new scope She is the Emotion found between Despair and Love She is Elpis - She is Expectation - She IS HOPE
Acknowledgement: My heartfelt thanks to my dear friend Demetrios Trifiatis for your translation of - ‘Do not open the Box’ into ancient Greek ‘Ouchi to koityon anoiksis’. Demetrios is a well known, long term contributor to Poetry Soup and his poems and daily inspirations are a source of encouragement to all. While the music is not music from the Pandora Opera, we felt that more dramatic music was needed to suit the story. O Fortuna –Carmina Burana by Carl Orff, seemed to fit the bill admirably.

Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017

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Last Dance and May I Have This Dance

Last Dance by Darren White Oh be my heart for me when it stops beating, My lungs to breathe thin air still far too chill, My feet to dance the world while I’m still living As they still want but now no longer will. Be my two arms and tug me in our tango— Flamenco palo, wrap your wings around My lithe frame, chant me our concluding canto With all the strength in us you somehow found. Oh sit with me and reminisce those dances… Pure, perfect passion, smile and lift your head, Observe illuminated skies above you… We meet again, we’ll waltz soon in Atlantis. With you here, there is nothing that I dread, Do not be sad, this is not an adieu.
May I Have This Dance? My heart beats a steady rhythm Gale winds won't take my breath Your feet on top of mine can dance all ebullient And if your arms get tired, mine will hold your weight No wings here-I am mortal Let our spirits of freedom sate And soar across the heavens, through the Milky Way You are a bright lit candle-the flame will not go out For I am keeper of the lighthouse Scribing every nuance Your words shine so, mi Estrella Living words that sing and sway Sometimes rhyming, artful placing Every syllable is etched to stay So, light the path of your life’s passions Each word a heartfelt view Dance for everyone to follow-learn the beauty that is you.

Copyright © Sara Ella | Year Posted 2017

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Moon in Pale Depression

Muted evidence proclaimed the subtle oddities of night

   Lunar time should have reached the zenith of its height

No chirping crickets were heard, nor angry feline brawls

   Lacking was the rhythmic chanting of nocturnal owl calls

No lengthened shadows grew where they should be cast

   The moon, in pale depression, had only risen half mast

Strange and sullen manner, for summer's interlude to end

   As though it were lamenting the loss of a beloved friend

Not just physical in nature, but with heartfelt immortal pain

   Darkened was the dead of night for one whose love was slain

In grief there is no consolation, the future bleak and ominous

   but there remains a hunger for love, one intensely ravenous

Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2018

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I knew this day would come
When I'd lose you from my sight
I won't be able to devour you
I'll miss that scrumptious bite

Seems everyday you were there for me
You were my afternoon delight
So rich, nutty, and delicious
I should have held you tight

I feel so down without you
My senses are getting numb
You gave me such a pick me up
To your pleasure I'd succumb

I see you through the window
With my sad and longing eyes
I crave just one taste of you
Can't you hear my heartfelt cries

This machine wont take my quarters
I've tried again and again
I need you, my snickers bar
Anyone got change for a ten

Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

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Winter Proposal

With my soul at peace and my thoughts at rest,
standing in this winter wilderness,
I whisper words of heartfelt bliss.

Come with me and walk this path.
Together we tread against the freeze,
and find the warmth of tender grasp.

My devoted being shall forever be,
a place of strength against chilled winds,
a brilliant light only you have seen.

Our lives have met in this quiet space.
Let sky meet land and rivers merge.
Forever, harmony I long to taste.

We have summoned light from darkest days.
Heat returns to melt still ice.
Each day length now brings stronger rays.

The deepest snows cannot hide the facts.
Beneath these layers life holds fast.
Newfound joys spring from bleakest past.

Let's rebuild life from broken dreams,
Where life restarts with each new spring,
the snows will melt to feed fresh streams.

Like this land, my passion runs free.
Walls have come down with earnest words.
My unblinded eyes now see.

I ask for your hand without ounce of gold,
or shiny stones dug from filthy earth.
My eternal love cannot be bought or sold.

Under peaks reborn of volcanic scars,
In night's serene and  starkest silence,
I pledge love to outlast the multitude of stars.

Solitude I turn from on this ride.
Today and tomorrow let's walk in stride.
Promise to be my utopian bride.

Copyright © Wayne Hill | Year Posted 2013

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- Newborn Flowers -

A broken heart 
who humbly cries 
As the flames began melting 
tears hidden under the seabed

Sizzling hot a trail 
sparkles into the night sky
love comes in colors 
that kisses burn passion

Following your starlight flooding
memories are forever made pure
Even if you are not here
I can feel your warm breath 

Winking to the soul dream of dreams 
Together we can build a future palace
one without fear and pain
Destiny will be eternities shooting arrow 
Catching many rainbow on our roads path
Cupid strikes flying saucers land in your space 
wondering if things will ever be the same again
Captivating an angel strums tugging heartstrings 

Do you hear still the melody 
to the most beautiful song playing
Warmly exploring deeply touching tunes 
Covering the bed with rose petals 

Music plays a heartfelt chant sighs 
I miss you dearest flower forever more 
just like the desert misses rain
Whispers held on a cloud of breath beautiful 

A Collaborated Poem 
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid 
(unrhymed quatrain)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016

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Beautiful Lies

Stark truth can be unkind and hard to hear,
Not always the best choice for someone dear.
A child who is not blessed with pulchritude,
Need not be told, that would be very rude.
If you must lie a bit to make her smile
That little lie may well be worth your while.
You may just find that tiny slip from truth,
When you have said the fairy has her tooth,
Will not be held against you in the end
Nor force you those wide stair steps to descend.
A lie that’s told for lovely, good intent
Is better than the truth with malice sent.

Weigh out your words is my heartfelt advice,
For sometimes truth is not extremely nice.

Won a second place in contest "Pen A Sonnet On It"

Contest ended 5/30/16 judged 6/16/16

A Shakespearean sonnet written in Iambic Pentameter

Philosophical theme

Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2012

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My Library

My neck crooked backward,
I stand between the stacks
feeling the weight of centuries, 
the distilled wisdom of minds
who graced the earth with golden words,
words that pace the pages -
vellum, parchment, fine and common papers;
words, cordoned in lines, confined,
yet powerful tools to set one free, 
a roamer far from home,
across universes,
beyond time's reach.

The light filters through high windows
downward to where I peer with squinted eyes
teasing out a jewel - 
a title, an author, an adventure, a friend.

The air is charged,
the static of adventure,
heartfelt journeys of a hundred thousand writers,
their souls etched upon the pages
for ones such as I to stumble upon decades,
centuries later,
dream maps
thought castles,
imaginative quests.

Quietness reigns.
The elements of books -
leather, cloth, paper and ink -
infuse a rich elixir,
a mind expanding potion,
companion to best wine and oldest friendships

© Faye Lanham Gibson, August 11, 2015

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2015

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What Where Who

What, Where, Who

If I where asked the what, where, who
That drives me to write poetry
I’d say that if I only knew
I’d leave right now this misery

But I’m afraid I’m not the sort
To answer in straight fashion
I have to offer my retort
With words of heartfelt passion

For just the other day I found
Encounter gave me food for thought
Soon the words they were outbound
Jumbled as they rushed and fought

Though ne’er the less inspired me
To battle on my way
Look toward the end and see
Which words I could display

Confess do I quite openly
That I am ignorant
Of  poetry’s technology
Coz grasp it I just can’t

I wouldn’t know a what’s it called
From a what’s its name
In my mind won’t stay installed
Confusion is its game

But I somehow, find I can
Muddle through at best
Organise a crafty plan 
And set my brain the test

For out there I see loneliness
Suffering and pain
A world in turmoil and distress
That cannot stake its claim

I look for every trait in man
Into the soul I stare
At his betrayal and flim-flam
Also the ladies fair

Dear love will always be there
And so will Demon war
And my thoughts on these I’ll share
Of that you can be sure

Laughter I would hope to bring
Sadness sometimes to the fore
Of natures forces I will sing
The list goes on galore

Yes I will write throughout the night
With hope to de-confuse
I’ll try to offer some insight
By giving up my muse

So now you know the what and where
But what about the who
Inspiring people are out there
Who knows - it could - be you 

And what about that misery
I spoke of up above
Well, I gave that up for music
Of the poetrysoupers love x

Copyright © Richard D Seal | Year Posted 2013

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A New Year

I heard the chimes at twelve o'clock
Ring in a brand new year;
And beyond the noise of all the news
I listened hard to hear.
A chorus of lamentation
Ringing loud and singing clear
From many angels winging
Through the vault of heaven.
They sang of shame and sorrow
Of suffering and sin;
They sang of hope for tomorrow
That peace be found and guided in.

I knew of the many trials
That former years had cost;
And all the dreams and pleasures
That were wasted and lost.
With awe I heard the music
That came to me there;
The voices all came pealing 
Through the stillness everywhere.
"Take away the shame and sorrow
Take the suffering and sin
So that a new tomorrow
May find peace be guided in".

Then I offered up a prayer
With heartfelt words I pled
For a miracle for the living
And forgiveness for the dead.
Then the echoes of the music
Softly whispered as songs were sung
They came with phantom voices
From the joyful angel's tongue
Take away the grief and sorrow
Of suffering and sin;
And in that new tomorrow
Let peace be found within.

Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2011

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Dedication to two very Special Women Andrea and Anne Lise


I'm writing this poem with pure dedication
To two very special women upon this fine day,
Andrea Dietrich and Anne Lise Andresen your beauty 
is like a quaint fascination of pure devotion.
If it weren't for people like you, I would have left long ago,
Andrea you showed me great strength comes internally 
I know,
Anne Lise you have a graceful flair with an inner honesty so rare
You showed me and talked to me when I needed someone to 
really care.
Weeks ago it seems, thought I was at a real time, time, low, low.
But in realities view, knew deep in my heart of this you do know
You're two very beautiful women who made me face up to my
inner demons.
Now I truly know, I'm still in love with my Grizzly Adams,
Andrea and Anne Lise, hope we'll always be friends
For I'm dedicating this poem to two very intelligent beautiful women.
I no longer have had no inner bad vibrations.
I'm writing this poem with pure happiness and true heartfelt dedication
To two of the very best and special women upon this glorious day,
Andrea and Anne Lise your beauty is like a flowering devotion
I'm really counting my blessings for I'm utterly thankful beyond my emotions.

Written: Sept. 2, 2014

Copyright © Theresa CW | Year Posted 2015

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Heroic Crown of Sonnets 1


Remembrance of guilt from pages turned brown,
Opened and read inside rooms of my mind.
Written through time with tears sliding down.
I will claim each dung lit cavern I find.
My yesterdays speak of a poignant time.
Holding the lies I practiced to deceive.
The changing poems, the flow of their rhyme.
Candles to melt in colors I'd conceive.
This game of hearts, this road to my sadness.
Finding false joy with a conqueror's schemes.
Endings included a heartfelt madness.
The dance always ended in broken dreams.

 To be blind from the pain I could not see.
 To read old poems, now scattered debris.


To read old poems, now scattered debris.
Drifting through time on a slow turning wheel.
Written secrets imblaze spokes that turn free.
And leave deep tracks the mind will not conceal.
The road is taken with its selfish means.
This journey is spent with a looking glass.
As death will befall this love that demeans.
To be a withering lonely morass.
How many pages of love never found?
This search to fill an emptiness from birth.
The staging, the set, the music,  the sound.
Loneliness will attempt to value its worth.

 The echo from time from each lover's frown.
 Time fades and tears away from books thrown down.

3.Torn Pages

Time fades and tears away from books thrown down.
Tossed in foul winds of yesterday's game.
Lovers as pawns in a silk flowing gown.
Faces flash by without anyone's name.
Empty memories now older and sane.
Covered in dirt from roads that were taken.
Understanding truth my mental disdain.
Unspoken the bond that was forsaken.
These ghosts from mists seem to always remain.
As my shadows haunt deep in the mind.
Never to be released from years of pain.
To steal the gifts from hearts when they were blind.

 To allow the world to know what I flee.
 I'll build a funeral pyre for all to see.

4.Funeral Pyre

I'll build a funeral pyre for all to see.
With its higher flames with my scourge of bane.
Burning the past allows me to be free.
So I can cross the bridge of my domain.
Turmoil I've wrought, reasons never to care.
I'm trapped by illusions, a vanquished foe.
Minutes of my time and what we would share.
The price of misery I'll always owe.
How dark love becomes when nothing is meant.
When lies from lips can spill to be denied.
The days and nights soon rushed without lament.
Innocent torn hearts bled when they complied.

 To have a sense of my past paradigm.
 Yesterday's poems I've folded in time.


Yesterday's poems I've folded in time,
Only in darkness recalled of the night.
Replayed in my mind reveals every crime.
Smooth flattering words for eyes delight.
This hole in my soul could never be filled.
Stranger in worlds where all people conflict.
Angry from pursuit, of emotion spilled.
Cradled warm hearts with a hurt to inflict.
Emptiness showed my soul was devoured.
I've claimed a prize with cold dismal heart.
Ransom is held to share with a coward
As two quietly separate apart.

 The next poem in line to purify,
 To be in flames when the memories cry.


To be in flames when the memories cry.
From thoughts so deep from those who've departed.
The hate they carried of questions of why.
No regrets to be had of course charted.
They had no reason for hiding their thought
As it was born from seeds unintended.
The precious jewel of love that they sought,
In my lying arms died as intended.
This graveyard is filled with too many graves.
Caused by an emotional heartless space.
Collected as trophies desire engraves,
To be burned in this fire without a trace

 Tossed in flames burning away exposed crime.
 The smoke froze in dark-colored air to climb.


The smoke froze in dark-colored air to climb,
Ashes will crumble from evil now lost.
This carried burden across passing time,
Finally accountable for the cost.
Those dreams of fleeting caged moments held tight.
A small souvenir to be kept confides.
Restless from reasons of what's wrong, what's right,
And wrapped in time's cloak where my failure hides.
United with guilt as my days grow short.
Seeking truth from my life's darkest stain.
Finding sadness from a past I'll abort.
A trembling fragility I disdain.

 To give some peace to each face I made cry.
 I see them all rise to an endless sky.

Contest. Heroic Crown of Sonnets

Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2016

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Our Caves

Our hearts have chambers, four in all;
   like caves, they are defined and seen.
But there are hidden caves within
   where our emotions live between.

The Cave of Love, the largest one,
   is filled, but sometimes shuts its door.
Much better to keep it ajar
   so give and take can flow, restore.

And next to it, the Cave of Faith;
   it feeds our hearts with gifts of trust
in God, our Earth and those we love;
   and also in ourselves, a must.

Along with faith, the Cave of Hope
   puts sunshine in our hearts so bright, 
that lifts us up no matter what,
   through sunny days or dark of night.

The Cave of Service in our heart
   is filled with help to fellowman;
must keep its contents flowing out...
   a part of our survival plan.

At last, the Cave of Thankfulness
   provides an echo loud and strong.
Our hearts get fuller with the joy
   when gratefulness sings its sweet song.

Heart chambers hold the beat and flow
   that keep our bodies so alive.
But unseen caves where "heartfelt" lives,
   our magic inner selves survive.

Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Caves
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Judged: 08/07/2016

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016

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Phantom Slippers of Thoughts

Without soul nourishment our spirits shall wither and die.
Words are a mere instrument, but can reflect truth to power. 
Of our faith within love and understanding—truth begs mercy, 
Whilst melting honey-sweet crystals kiss thy soft warm cheeks. 
We dream and bathe inside the sun’s most radiant gift of desire. 
Cool waters of divine creation lovingly quench this desert fire, 
And the haunting spectre of death shall never be an end to us!
Winds of such deep-thoughts softly and sweetly sting at once, 
When I show you a mirror-image of what our destiny can be. 
Adrift in storms of fervid emotions I give in now to your love. 
I see a temple of beauty I once bowed down to under your gaze, 
As your red-hot daggers strike deepest cords in this coldest breeze.  
Now holding hands sunlight-sparkled with you inside this dream,
This heartfelt satisfaction’s worth more than all the world’s gold!

Riches fall from Heaven now in shining jewels of misted pearls,
Whilst I walk alone in deepest thoughts in my blue suede shoes.
Living-loving inside a sole-soul of dreams—true and unbounded,
I hear songbirds whistle and whisper in such joy by God’s grace.
Our souls may nourish themselves on the eternal power of our love.
With God as our witness—we fear not what death shall bring to us,
For our love and true destiny exist far beyond this mortal world!  

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – May 15, 2016
(Free Verse)       

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016