Best Huddle Together Poems
Outside my window lives a chickadee,
he loves snowy green pine,
and has a family of about twenty-three;
he loves the snow and falling snowflakes divine,
and each morning the whole family sings for me.
Sometimes they scatter on clamous whirling wings,
off to a park nearby,
my heart is sad for their songs are like violins;
then, the beat of their wild swirling wings multiply,
they have brought home many, many friends I sigh.
On warmer days I bring them some seeds,
I put the seeds on my hand,
and am always in awe with their fluttering speeds;
I love each created by God delicate painted band
helping the birds helps me to grow and transcend.
They huddle together when it is very cold,
at times they lift a foot,
I think God not only gave them beauty but a soul;
each morning I must go to my window to have a look
I find them twittering, and tweeting in a clamor bruit.
It was on a cold night in Bethlehem that hope was born
A babe lay in a manger as angels sang joyfully
Above the nativity a star shone casting bright light
Guiding the paths of three wise men to welcome our Savior
As shepherds flocked toward the illuminated holy site
The warmth from within still touches the hearts of all mankind
In remembrance we pray for harmony among mankind
As we celebrate the first Christmas, optimism born
In the Mideast soldiers bow down, recalling this wondrous site
For just one night thoughts of war fade, hearts are filled joyfully
They lay down weapons, focusing on the birth of our Savior
As they huddle together, sharing good will by camp light
In many parts of the world, homes illuminated by light
Peace touches the hearts of those who seek blessings for mankind
Church bells ring, signaling the arrival of our Savior
Souls are touched as the restoration of joy is now born
Worshippers proceed to mass, sharing greetings joyfully
If only each day could be filled with such a loving site
How welcome to see the sun rise each day on such a site
Hearts abounding with humanity from our inner light
With angels in each of us sharing good will joyfully
If I live to see such days, I’ll have new hope for mankind
Trust and faith would emanate, celebrating a Child born
A Child, a Leader Who would give His life as a Savior
Cast aside the trappings, focus only on our Savior
Keep in mind this first Christmas, a blessed and holy site
How wonderful it would be to see new harmony born
Differences seem petty as we revel in God’s light
Join me in expectations for the future of mankind
Like the seraphs let us sing out in hymns so joyfully
Make our future one that finds families praying joyfully
No greater inspiration than the birth of our Savior
From a Blessed Mother’s womb sprang a babe to save mankind
Let us be wise men, finding cause to worship at this site
War and hatred cannot exist within God’s holy light
Acceptance of each man’s worth can in joyful hearts be born
Raise your hearts, revel joyfully in our Savior’s glory
In cheer mankind recalls the site of a manger at night
Where neath a star’s light was born a King, the Son of our Lord
* Sestina written for the "Joy to the World" contest.
God’s inspirational napalm set ablaze upon the trees of autumn,
Welcome to the ascension of the fall season, bursting forth onto
The leaves once evergreen.
Colors of crisp snapping, auburn reds, fires aglow oranges, and
Subdued darken browns to contrast the mixtures blending, created
By the masterful hands of a higher powers creativity.
Tender timbers mutated into a glorious display of light and color,
Splashing the palette array of natural beauty.
Blessed in magnificence the lord hushes and stills, the mortal heart,
As inspiration captures the poets ink pen to write,
Upon the empty parchment page.
Strolling lovers huddle together, beneath a wondrous tapestry,
A canopy of leaf petals, that descend as it is caressed
By a chilling fall breeze.
Whispering softly in each others ears tender words
Sweet nothings, youth in utter splendor wrapped
Embraced in loves devotional shawl of emotions.
Behold vows promises of perfection uniting
These spirits of fall, united against the winter
Winds forever more.
Cold and slain lay the roses of summer, yet within
The wild heart of innocence, the flame of desire
Shall not flicker out, nay it lives strong in the young,
A blossom of delicate distention is true loves flower.
Oh in timeless remembrance as years will pass,
And only one shadow remains between these two
Souls united joined in life as one.
Shall beyond another single silhouette awaits,
Tracing these burnt ambers of autumn from long ago,
In cascading showers of melted colors of memory.
In angels tears a gentle rain does fall, yet a smile
Crosses the face of this eternal love, a blessings
Promise in one word spoken, always.
God’s inspirational napalm set ablaze upon the trees of autumn,
Welcome to the ascension of the season, bursting forth onto
The leaves of the evergreen.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
The Twelve Angels of Beirut
They huddle together in the heavens
Muttering amongst themselves
Confused as any human down below
We bestow upon them the ancient teachings
Not once, not twice, variations to please all walks of life
Yes thrice
They may choose the ancient books they follow
They may keep the traditions yet must adapt to modern intellect
Such literate men who seem not to read
Who can cast his eyes at his child?
Feeling nothing but love and endearment?
Who pray tell us is displeased to arrive at his home at dusk?
Angels we twelve have nourished
We have showed you both love, morality and compassion
Yet ye who divides faith, chooses battle
You so easily prefer to drink blood
Rather than bestow a red rose upon breast
Olive trees so ripe have no meaning at all for you
Like a tree that reaches the sky
All things change, as evolution’s duty dictates
Yet you fight to keep perceptions frozen in time
You cover a woman’s face
When its you who should hide in shame
Modesty is how we bestow good deeds to strangers
It is how we look at our hearts in the mirror
A woman’s beauty should shine to the heavens
Competing only with a mans debonair style of chivalry
Honor you mother and father
Honor your tribe
Not with traditions and rented cloth
Honor with your whole heart
Feed the poor and kiss your enemy on both cheeks
The skies will become your friend
We sit here waiting in torment and anguish
Crying to the heavens that surround us
We gave you hearts and minds
You return us blood and bombs
We are ashamed of our duties
For we have obviously failed you
Forgive us, you tribes of the three branches
We are the twelve angels of Beirut
Whose tears give you your sea
Thunder growls beneath fired sky
Crackling its way down street wires
As booms pound on our ceiling.
Forceful winds roughen wheezed noise
In a pitch quite deafening
While we huddle together;
Enjoying silent movies.
SEVENBITS Contest hosted by nette onclaud
10.02.2017
April has been called the cruelest month,
and that may well be so.
But sadder by far is October--
ask any tree, for they all know.
October glides in wearing many jewels
bathing dying gardens in warm glows.
Their gold and ruby and amber hues
perform the quintessential Autumn show.
But then, as if one, leaves begin to fall
like tears on an old oak's face.
The red and gold they flaunted so
become Winter's rental space.
Barren branches stretch their limbs
in supplication to the skies.
They ask, if possible, for bluest skies
and snowy lace to wear as a disguise.
Before long, the garden's colorful riot
has faded to browns and greys.
Bushes huddle together knowing
Winter will soon have its shivering ways.
So like ourselves, when our once bushy heads
become sprinkled with Winter white
We exclaim, who's the person looking at us
in the mirror? Must have crept in overnight!
Our arms, once strong and tanned by the sun,
voices rich with our songs not all sung.
The beauty we once thought rightfully ours'
now graces only the young.
Sometimes change doesn't appear good,
the trees would understand.
We miss the long walks with confident strides;
trees wish for greenery on demand.
We've weathered seasons, along with the trees,
but days now go too fast.
Soon, we too will hear Winter's song,
and we'll cry, Summer, why couldn't you last?
The earth is moving slowly on its axle.
The sun is swiftly making his retreat.
Everyone begins to relax a little
and softly, sweetly, slowly drift to sleep.
The coyote is tucking her young under covers
because the night is cool after the days heat.
Aren't they happy they have a loving mother
as they softly, sweetly, slowly drift to sleep?
The lonely owl tucks himself behind leaves
as the nosy creatures in the forest look.
All find shelter in the knots of the trees
while the fish huddle together in the brook.
One and all gather up their little ones
and count them and put them to bed
and ask God to keep them forever young
so they can always take care of them.
And now I ask the stars above them
if they could watch over my children for me.
May they dream of how much I love them
as they softly, sweetly, slowly drift to sleep.
A lightning-fast swing,
a blinding slap
and a few seconds later – a dull thunder of the leaving thunderstorm.
A numbness of words;
a dumbness of feelings;
a cold wind from the river;
a sad and grievous moan of the coal barges, huddling together.
We’ll never huddle together for warmth anymore;
we'll never talk to each other as good neighbors over the fence of shared memories.
To pop up collar,
to turn around
and to walk away as fast as a counterfeiter
who rushes to get rid of a fake note and flees with change,
without looking back.
18.07.2019
Intransigence Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Dawn breaks…
over the horizon in a thin, frail line
my large snout presses downward
upon the ragged earth
I am on the hunt
absorbed in my task
scanning and searching
for that elusive scent
that is in my wake.
Like a great detective
I leave no stone unturned
I am proud of my prodigious nose
finely tuned, precise as a compass
I can detect the rarest of scents
I probe to follow that unique smell
to find what is lost...
it is the zenith of my existence.
What, ho! Now, the scent!
My body trembles with the thrill of discovery!
Onward, I go, with eager anticipation
I will not stop until I reach my destination.
Alas, my determination pays off
my master sees the end in sight...
I do not understand his sudden sadness
how he draws back
at the scene set before him.
As I nuzzle close to my master
his salty tears drench my face
my doleful eyes seem to comfort him
as we huddle together
underneath the dry, hot sun.
Cold winds blow cross these Texas plains,
Trees bow down to the harsh and freezing rains.
Cattle huddle together in search of fleeting heat,
Cars slip and slide upon this icy street.
Barbed wire stretches tight with icicles hanging on throughout the night,
The icy winds cut like a knife and staying warm is an on going fight.
Only the brave or fool hearted venture out on days like this,
As I sip on my coffee and think how quickly it is summer I miss!
Some folks really like cold weather and such,
To each their own, as for me I don’t enjoy it that much.
If I could choose I’d want springtime to last at least ten months out of the year,
Not too hot and not too cold, and spring water that runs so crystal clear.
Everything in bloom, wildflowers covering a peaceful hill,
Trees full of birds singing to the creator, animals playing, oh what a thrill.
It’s a time when life really seems to bloom,
While winter to me is such a time of gloom.
Alligators bask lazily on tree limbs overhanging the meandering rivers
Gentle manatees playfully rise above the water line to catch a breath
Such a delight to see these threatened mammals rebounding
Palms and Live Oaks stand as sentries on the river banks
Casting tropical silhouettes against the orange orb as it succumbs below pink clouds
Across the peninsula on the Atlantic coast, seagulls huddle together
Winter winds ruffle their feathers as they scavenge for food
Even in cold weather, “snowbirds” flock to our shores
Retirees leave their footprints on our white sands
Each day, their prints are washed away as the tide thrusts its wet arms
*Entry for Brian's Imagery contest
Ashes adrift in cold breezy whispers
Mesmerized Monday finally seen
So I sat here/there fingers achingly tapless over blurred keys.
Wetly wondering in salted moving air...
Clouds huddle together crowding for position-
avoiding the ever sinking sun
Welcoming darkness impatient in the wings....
Soon .....well soon enough words would dribble-
dropping double entendres in croissant swirls.
Darting and daring to form movements
creating caresses to shiver-
shudder tingle spine touches...
tuning vibrating space in distant time
timely distance
springing to spark the awe of appreciation
begging for light to guide them
The train, halted under the shade of sacred hill
They flowed out, and, wandered here and there
holding big, small, colorful, old and new packs of belongings
To, find comfortable chests and knees
some carelessly slept on un-desiring places,
but many there stood still
to face the misty, white clouded sky beyond the ridge,
Perceived their feet had reached
the starting point of adventurous tramp
Men, women, young and old with little ones
crept forward Just like a bunchy row of ants
filled with amazement; some stood, and watched
the vivid green forest canopy and flowering ferns
swinging in the frosty breeze!!
The minds filled with compassion, harmony
and respect each other
By murmurous chanting, that oozed into their veins
in the morning twilight
Tenderness of beams brighten the white dresses
of devotees
Time passed slowly
And the far valley down, a string of people moving upwards
on the zigzagged narrow path
Surrounded by thick green vegetation which
being the habitat of bees, birds, butterflies and
variety of big and small animals
Oozy willows dropping pearl like cold water drops
But few of moving people put a glance
at the phenomenon!
What a peregrination, having a cool gust thrill
which each body and its soul begird
The strenuous walk will bring to a halt at the noble foot print
Some managed to reach the desired end
but some could not attain the will
they stopped hopelessly, stepped down
with forsaken aspiration
those who topped the hill, huddle together
engaged customary rituals,
The eco of the ringing bell spread over the chilled atmosphere
through hill tops, forest, and the moving folks
Excitement broke out
Devotees squeezed catch a glimpse of sunshine!
The sun appeared slowly with a trembling smile
through the glistening horizon
Sunshine! Miraculously radiated across the mountain range,
forest canopy and everything
open to tender beams of light
What a huge strength,
Noble hopes and wishes
fulfilled the pilgrimage!
J.Weerakkody
(This poem is about pilgrims who climb the summit of breezy sacred mountain of Sripada, the holy mountain of Sri Lanka, where suppose to be emblematized the footprint of Lord Buddha. After worshiping the sacred footprints the devotees anxiously watch the panoramic maiden sun rise over the sacred mountain. The poem is vividly realized descriptions of nature.)
Sunday home bonding
festive midst fellowship bliss
dining as one team
over Dad and Mom’s menu
from luncheon to supper time…
Missing such moments
we still huddle together
though sometimes virtual…
siblings bound by parents’ love
thanking God* for childhood gems.
*Psalm 69:30 I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving.
August 14, 2022
1st place, "Childhood Nostalgia" Tanka Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by JCB Brul; judged on 8/31/2022.
Shamefully dull, life would be,
Without seasons to nourish me.
Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall,
Nature’s blessings the nourish us all
Apathetic and harsh, winter is,
With arctic gales that pierce
Every linen shielding my frame.
Anomalous flakes of snow drift from the sky
As sheets of white accumulate on the ground
And weigh down the healthiest trees,
Teasing those ready for winter festivities.
Once the snow angels and snowmen are made, and
Once the sledding and snowball fights are done,
Into their warm homes, all will run,
Hiding under hoards of fleece
Until it’s time for spring to come free.
Pleasant and lively, spring is,
With liber rains falling lavishly
On soil beds of assorted seeds,
Nursed diligently by the avid gardeners
Who thirst for the sight of the first blossoms
Of poppies, roses, lilies, and tulips.
Blueberries, cherries, and strawberries
Entice the onlookers waiting to pick
The ripest harvest in a timely manner
And savoring them until summer can flare.
Fierce and fervent, summer is
With a feverish breath, that makes rain a treasure.
People gather in masses to absorb the bodies of water
As a radiant sun desiccates the land.
Outdoors, pitchers of lemonade are carried everywhere
And thriving honeysuckle sweeten the air.
Yellow lights of fireflies flicker through the night
As exhausted bodies relax beneath the stars,
Gazing in admiration, until autumn can appear
Calm and homely, autumn is
Wither green, red, and yellow foliage taking over.
Crisp leaves bustle about the ground,
Trapped by flurries of whirring winds
Until they are raked into heaps for children to dive in
And pumpkins growing in preparation to carved or baked.
Families huddle together around brilliant fires
While couples stroll through parks, taking delight in the landscape,
And having picnics until winter’s brisk rise.