Best Huddling Poems
I watched them gather round
The warmth of your flame
Like campers at campfire time
Huddling close to you
Pushing and jostling
For the best place
I saw your warmth
Dancing off their faces
Small cinders escaping into the night
I followed the sparks drifting up
On the chilly breeze
Riding high…disappearing into the stars
I was cold
I was alone
On the edge
And yet…I dared not go near you
Though your light invited me
And I wanted so much to be warmed
By you
Yet….how could I find a place
By those encircling you
Watching the mesmerizing display
Of your orange and yellow flames
There was no place
Among the gathering of....
The strong, the beautiful, the insistent
So, on the outskirts I stayed
Tears trickling down my cheeks
Cold
Alone…
I waited…I held back
Until they all left
One by one
Some bumping into me
Not even aware that I was alive
I waited until you had almost died out
No longer on display
But a warm glow of embers
Still orange and glowing with desire
And I approached
Shyly…
Longingly…
Needing to see you dance
For me….only for me
And I coaxed you
In my clumsy way
My fingers cold
My heart ablaze
Suddenly....you burst into flame
A pillar of fire
Miracle of love
For I had not added any kindling
But my little heart
And yet it seems you had waited
Knowing I would come
And my slightest touch
Made the flames spring to life
Voracious flames
Flames reaching the high heavens
Your heat overpowering
Consuming
I almost threw myself into you
Wanting to reach the center
Of the heat and warmth
Of your beauty…
I spent the night
Out under the stars
Lying naked
Yet not cold
Naked
Yet not ashamed
Naked
Yet not shy
For your glow was my covering
I let myself be touched
Time and again
By licking fingers of fire
By the burning flames of your desire
For….ME!
For Gail's Contest
Touched by Your Flame
May 27, 2013
Categories:
huddling, fire, passion,
Form:
Free verse
clad in rags, he wanders on Wall Street
he is invisible to hustling stock brokers
he is a man with no money, no property
a hapless struggler of excessive loan burdens
bitter winter winds blow across Broadway
he is invisible to affluent theatre-goers wearing warm winter coats
he is a man who watches them scurry past the cardboard box that is his bed
like a rain-dog, huddling in the shadows of alleys and doorways
he hears deafening explosions of New Year fireworks
he is invisible to the revellers
he is a man who cowers, recalling gunfire of a war he fought
echoing through his mind in restless nights
the incessant thumping of traumatic stress
he is invisible...a victim of post-Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq
who once bore a uniform and served his country with pride
he is invisible suffering alone, paying the price
through severe disabilities and permanent scars
with sadness, he watches voters going to the polls
he is invisible, a veteran with no voice in elections
he is a man who cannot vote without an “address”
a placard on a pavement might catch the eye
unemployed, homeless, unseen
but most of all forgotten
he is a man who seems invisible
but he is still a man
-------------------------------------------------------------
This is co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
in remembrance of our war veterans.
[Published @ Muse to Move (A.P.F. Publisher UK 2017]
Categories:
huddling, remember, veterans day,
Form:
Free verse
Amidst the scorching heat of the sun
Everyone likes to feel its glowing colors all around
Children tossed up and down those kaleidoscopic leaves
As they giggle, roll on the ground and jig
Leaves are like colorful petals and butterflies
Huddling all in their salubrious place of plight
One Autumn Day is truly a nature’s rhapsodic show in our sight
12 Sept.,2014 12.05am
Second Place
Contest: One Autumn Day (in just 7 lines)
Judged: 12/28/2014
Sponsor: My greatest and all time most fave, Poet PD
Categories:
huddling, beauty, nature, seasons,
Form:
Rhyme
W inter at times became a paradise lost-and-found
I recall huddling over a static, crackling old radio
N ews announcement: School canceled tomorrow!
T he yard oh my the yard, buried in a blanket of quiet
E ven the fence posts wear tilted, funny white hats
R abbit and sparrow tracks in the snow
Categories:
huddling, childhood, nostalgia,
Form:
Acrostic
The Sounds of Spring
About: This poem is describes my feelings of the season spring. How the wonders of it are a miracle. A place so green dries and dies, when the cold comes. Then blooms and grooves of new life of all God's creations.
ATTENTION:All my poems are posted by me. No one else. Other websites, that I have uploaded my poems on are: forums.familyfriendpoems.com and wattpad.com (the username is the same on this website, as well as those: ricoelhady)
When the sun lights up over the land,
the groves grow golden red,
under the light,
The day then starts,
with the clinging of the bells in the far east,
and the roosters singing at dawn,
the sun's golden rays peak out to play spreading all over the land,
The blue jays sing,
the flowers bloom,
and the bees spread the scent,
the day shines brighter than any other icy day,
The game animals awake,
to the sounds from the wind,
they sing and perch to the instruments of day,
The creaking of the old mill,
on Grey's hill,
wakes up the town,
people of all ages boom through the day,
clapping and dancing,
to the rhythm of the day,
The clouds embrace across the blue,
cuddling and huddling the Sun and sky,
sparking the land under a disco light,
Me, what do I do?
I sit nearby the big, blue river,
listening,
to the plops and ploops and plips,
of the fish,
jumping here and there,
Today is a special day,
the first time this year,
nature decided to,
sing the sounds of spring
Categories:
huddling, adventure, beauty, blue, happiness,
Form:
Free verse
spare change
he takes shelter in a cardboard box
old newspapers for a bed
threadbare clothes rumpled and dirty
a concrete pillow for his head
picking up used cigarette butts
from the crowded littered street
dumpster diving for table scraps
searching for something to eat
huddling in an open doorway
on a cold cold winter’s night
battling to keep warm
swiftly losing the fight
asking hurried passers by
if they have change to spare
no one gives a second look
no one seems to care
a salty tear rolls down
his ruddy weathered cheek
what has happened to his life
that it became so very bleak
March 5, 2020
Categories:
huddling, caregiving, depression, men,
Form:
Rhyme
In the stillness of the early morn
When nature shakes off the remnants of slumber
Leaves stretching, flowers opening
I sit quietly with my cup of tea in reflection.
Gazing at the first visages of dawn
As the sun lazily climbs into the heavens
Gradually dressing the day in a kaleidoscope of hues
Huddling a bit deeper into the quilt I have wrapped about me.
Oh quiet morn what blessing will you bestow today?
A gentle shower, a warm caress?
Or will passion shatter us from our doldrums,
Enveloping fury of an unleashed tempest.
Communion with nature, I tune into earths heartbeat
Thundering through my blood, rejuvenating my soul
I rise and salute you in prayer and thanksgiving
Calmer from the spiritual union of birthing a new day.
Categories:
huddling, natureprayer, thanksgiving,
Form:
Free verse
1.
My grapefruit tanned
toothpicks
bow above
the five-day flattened
spot
in an olive shag carpet
tracing grandpa Leo's
blueprint,
with one encapsulated
toe –
this is the femur, this is
the head,
this is the fist, the ring
finger, the soul.
I search for any blunt
white quivering slivers
of Caroline's purported
fly fetuses.
2.
Huddling behind the
corpse
of an old hospital bed,
a framed photo
smoke browned and
wearing my toddler face,
watches
his children choke
hushed, broken
sentences
this will be yours, my
plate, separate the
holiday china…
an enigmatic language
that hovers in
smoke stretched rings
to wilt
upon the hallway
bulb.
3.
I am left
the ceramic cygnet,
and an ivory carved
dromedary.
These artifacts
plucked
from his porcelain
menagerie
that I decipher
through dust fingerprints
for
one small inheritance of
a memory.
4.
Tomorrow,
Aunt Rose
puts price
to his bibelots,
the olive shag carpet,
even cousin Amy's
plastic horse,
who was accidentally
left to pasture on an
afghan.
A silver plated glass cage
image of her past,
she says she will whittle
all of him,
from the
wooden
house
bones.
Categories:
huddling, angst, death, family, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Sure signs of a spiffy winner..
Refusing to be one of the crowd!
With thoughts so rich, not thinner.
He shouts his independence out loud!
The sheep, afraid, head for the hills..
Huddling and comforting each other.
While the outrageous one, sees their ills.
Never once, willing to mirror another!
9/22/2022
~1~
Categories:
huddling, character, courage, encouraging, endurance,
Form:
Rhyme
“A life of disharmony with nature will dehumanize us. Never ignore nature’s power to heal and restore and fuel us with new enthusiasm. The younger generation, glued to the cyber space do not know what they truly miss.” ~ By Poet.
have you ever been into a forest?
do you seek solace in nature’s lap?
in my loneliness, I often turn to nature.
in her soothing embrace, I find such joy.
Today,
into the woodlands, I leisurely walked,
where trees grew huddling one another.
they talked to me in a lingua, that I could easily understand.
rustling leaves whispered love’s enchantments in my ear.
I felt they were my friends of a primordial age.
the birdsongs were a balm for my soul.
and my mind too joined in their symphony.
in hidden glades, I saw a world of flowers thriving,
they bloomed and blushed in silence.
unattended and unnoticed, they will wither in a day or two.
this thought left me sad for a moment,
and Thomas Gray’s famous lines,
in ‘The Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard’
came to my mind.
I saw wild orchids of creamy white and bright orange.
below some trees, I noticed a wild array of daylilies,
nodding and dancing delightfully in the breeze.
their sweet fragrance came wafting into my nose.
around them, I saw bees and butterflies, reeling round.
from far I heard the babbling of a brook.
its soft murmur was at once soothing and alluring.
I could see its glimmer as it wound its way,
through jutting rocks and crevices.
as I stood losing myself in the serenity of the place,
forgetting all the noisy cacophony of the streets,
I felt my cracks and scars quickly being healed,
by mother nature’s soothing embrace!
Categories:
huddling, appreciation, happiness, nature,
Form:
Free verse
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
Categories:
huddling, farewell,
Form:
Free verse
“Put on the dauntless spirit of resolution”. ~ By William Shakespeare
Meet this dweller of the icy continent
Among the few, he is the chief occupant
Out in that territory, it is freezing cold
With nothing but a sea of whiteness to behold
In this far stretching desert of ice
Live the emperor penguins wise
They are birds erect, not designed for flight
Neatly dressed in suits of black and white
They remind us of nuns dressed in white
With hoods in black and souls contrite
The penguins thrive in snow and sleet
That to them is never an easy feat
Over the ice they smoothly waddle
And in water with flippers, they paddle
Strangely, it is in the peak of winter they breed
When nature goes scarce with food to feed
After a period of intimate courtship
Into responsible parenthood they slip
The female lays a single egg
Never one more, even if we beg
Right away she goes on a feeding spree
Appointing her husband as designee
To guard over the egg and keep close watch
Until the young one is ripe to hatch
Do you know how it incubates the egg?
He balances it on the feet of his leg
Till the young one is out, he refuses to eat or drink
A rare sacrifice of which we can hardly think
In this period, he thrives solely on body fat
And in course, he loses half his weight
At last, from the egg, when the chick is out
It is not allowed to go to the ice direct
But is locked inside the parent’s brood pouch
Where the little one feels comfy as on a couch
If it ever dares to venture out
It will freeze to death, no doubt
The emperors thus live on the razor edge of life
And their lives with challenges are rife
Yet with dauntless resolution, they face their fate
And against all adversities, their life they celebrate
With their densely packed layers of plumage
They keep their bodies from serious damage
When comes the blasting breath of the blizzards
As a precaution to skim over the hazards,
From their territories, they rally en bloc together
Huddling tight for warmth in the biting weather
Don’t you think the penguin is an emperor
Who subdues his hostile territory with prudent care?
A longer version of the bird’s dauntless endeavor is our life
An arduous climb through perils, pain and strife!
Categories:
huddling, animal, appreciation, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
clad in rags, he wanders on Wall Street
he is invisible to hustling stock brokers
he is a man with no money, no property
a hapless struggler of excessive loan burdens
bitter winter winds whip across Broadway
he is invisible to affluent theatre-goers wearing warm winter coats
he is a man who watches them scurry past the cardboard box that is his bed
like a rain-dog, huddling in the shadows of alleys and doorways
he hears deafening explosions of New Year fireworks
he is invisible to the revelers
he is a man who cowers, recalling gunfire of a war he fought
echoing through his mind in restless nights
the incessant thumping of traumatic stress
he is invisible...a victim of post-Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq
who once bore a uniform and served his country with pride
he is invisible suffering alone, paying the price
through severe disabilities and permanent scars
with sadness, he watches voters going to the polls
he is invisible, a veteran with no voice in elections
he is a man who cannot vote without an “address”
a placard on a pavement might catch the eye
unemployed, homeless, unseen
but most of all forgotten
he is a man who seems invisible
but he is still a man
*As we prepare to celebrate Veterans Day, I would like to thank Paul Callus
for co-writing with me. Our veterans deserve more than we can ever give them.
Categories:
huddling, veterans day,
Form:
Free verse
Submissive squire on his foot
Helping his best knight, to put
On the weapons o’ not so cute
Beautified horses galloping,
The sharpen swords clanging,
And wooden poles jousting,
While this beauty, mocks by tear,
Huddling, silently, in her own fear
Because of her one and only dear
For her love,
She prays of-
“Use the speed o’ thy eyes, oh knight o’ mine
For a love to dwell, forever, in arms o’ thine!”
Categories:
huddling, history, life, love, people,
Form:
Narrative
It's now that time of the year when no one is in the stands...
And there are groans and wishes from anxious football fans.
The players are at the beach working on their tans...
And coaches are huddling making upcoming game plans.
It won't be long before the whistle will blow...
And another football season will be on the go.
We eager fans can hardly wait...
And we'll be buying tickets and standing at the gate.
It's hard to believe that it's about to begin...
So here hoping that you and your team will have no losses only wins.
I appreciate the impact that your hard work makes...
But i Know the price that effort takes.
Wishing you,your staff and the team the best for 2017...
May this be the best team your fans have ever seen.
Have a great season and enjoy the ride...
Wishing you the best as you lead and guide.
TK<
Categories:
huddling, football,
Form:
Than-Bauk