Best I Miss Poems
listen,
the whispers
of leaves
turn colour
autumn is here.
now that you are gone
who will wake every morn
to lift the sun
unveil the sky
etch in the clouds
who will paint the rainbow?
i had a dream and in the dream i wove you a poem
i used the fiber of my character to create spools of silken thread
dipped in the juices of my passion i dyed them in the colors of my imagination
re-enforced each and every single strand with the strength of my love
touch,
the echoes
of the rain
- waters
- blossoms spring.
now that 'us' is just a word
no longer with you as one
i alone wind up metal toys
cut out paper dolls
the beach swept from under my feet
the child in me flees.
spun spools from the intricacy of my spirit
designed a pattern
to the rhythm
of the music
of my inner thoughts
enamoured in your vision
crystal beads gather on my brow
as i toil your finely bred gift
as i braid every part of me
with every memory
into every sliver of fabric
taste,
uncut
snow shapes
crisp cold
ices the wintertide.
instead now rusted
a fools gold chain of loneliness
hangs around my neck like a noose
mourns a union that once had breath
a twosome that now is dead.
see,
the sand sculptures
paint
rekindle
a childhood summer
past.
sew in the loving glow emits my flawless dreams
with my boiling blood initial my woven piece
my work at an end i awake
you lay there a wingless angel asleep
smiling as if you heard a bell ring
your boundless warmth embraces me
the moon no longer smiles
the stars no longer wink
smell,
seasonal airs
stimulates senses
memories they deliver.
without a touch
barely - i kiss you.
in this
my decade of one
hope is a wickless candle
the night just day without light
in the glee,
hopes and dreams,
in the human spirit,
lives the miracle of life.
magnificent
voices in every pitch
deep and resounding,
the melody of echoes and whispers – uncut.
Jan 4 2017
With Love
Armand
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
Poet's note; For my beautiful daughter, Jocelyn, you inspire me with your light, joy, spirited determination and intellect. Though your academic pursuits take you many, many miles away from me and I grieve your absence, when you return home I shall celebrate with tears of joy!
For today, however, I'll let my grieving tears speak for themselves...
I love you and I miss you, my Jocee <3
Not with my arms but with a heart
that blesses your reveries, may peace reside
within your chest... is it possible to love you
less? Perhaps allow the sun to brush your hair
in the luminescence of dawn?
Even autumn envies you as white light
moves with your scent and possesses
your laughter never to be mine again in times
of harvest or falling rain…
and from stars above, may your eyes
remember our blades of grass
while I half-close the damp field of memorials
creaking on the burial of a resting place
that finds me kneeling, wailing, asking
how time can drown our adventures
much too soon...
as I stumble upon this cruel, bruised night
I forgot myself today
as melancholic melodies
overwhelm each beat
of my wandering heart.
The sanctimonious sun deceives
as a bitter breeze breathes
against sullen silent surfaces.
Recycled emotions penetrate
with a repetition of deep sighs.
My spiritless soul strays, but is
happy to be lost in lyrical lament.
As the Nightingale chants its
continuous regretful resonance,
the tip of my tongue aches
to whisper your amorous name, but
holds back knowing you can't hear.
Without your enchanted vision,
neglected eyes perish.
Without your perfumed presence,
senses remain scentless.
Without your tender touch,
fragile petals won't blossom.
As a cascade of sandcastle emotions
infiltrate stubborn sierra barriers.
Violent tears erupt,
demolishing hardened walls.
What used to be bitter breaths and
spiteful sighs are now regretful cries.
Your silent goodbye still haunts
as the lips grieve for one last kiss.
I forgot myself today,
but have not forgotten your love.
The Silent One
Simple Musing
29 November 2017
(Fiction)
A wise and sentimental one
Who lived and loved some years ago
Had crossed my path along the way
As i recall that Autumn day
By happenstance of lucky charm
As neighbors, then good friends we were
Though she was of another time
We found our words would always rhyme
A turning point that was for me
A home to call my very own
My life was just about to start
Forever called to gift my heart
She taught me not to fear my age
As life awaits then passes by
To always laugh and find the sun
And share my love with everyone
Though she’s been gone these many years
And I’m now where she was in life
I oft remember our exchange
When my world turns so cold and strange
Of many themes, we’d share our thoughts
She helped me grow, to find my strength
Yet one remains above them all
“Into each life some rain must fall”
For Harriett
How long does it take
for a heart to harden?
for muscles to loose
that supple tone
to lose elasticity
to become...stone?
How long does it take?
I wonder
But I know
your heart has hardened
I never would believe it to be true
No, not you
Not...YOU
Your heart was my home
the soft walls my comfort
the rhythmic squeeze my treasure, my pleasure
But your heart has hardened
Turned...to stone
But even a stone would hear my cry
a stone would shed a tear
a stone would soften
with the beating of my breast against it
with the deluge of my tears wetting it
with my sobs moving it
a stone would hear
and come to life
to quiet my inner strife
but not your heart
NO, Not YOU!
Your heart is stone
I wonder if it yet beats
and why do I write this poem?
Perhaps you will see
Perhaps you will read
Perhaps you will be softened
and bleed
I write because...
My heart yet beats
for you...
Eileen M Ghali
I've heard your whispers
in quiet moments
amongst the shedding trees of Autumn..
I walk alone our wooded path – listening
the air just as crisp as a bright-blushed Winesap
but my tears not as sweet – glistening
the wispy whispers haunting
taunting in their gentle tug
and I wonder; how easily the golden leaves let go..
with barely a breath of wind’s soft persuasion
they fall away from boughs
each descending like a fated swan
gliding circling fluttering to their end with a taffeta crinkle -
the crinkle reminiscent of a shy fire’s crackle
as they settle and nestle on the forest floor
I remember how we settled and nestled
on the rug before the fire’s supple tongues
home-made hard cider filled our mugs
made from untamed fruits
of wild trees
our flame untamed and wild too
when we were ginger-kissed
and the taste of your lips saturated mine
besotted with our nectar-like love
till satisfied cinders in the hearth serenely died..
I walk alone now with falling leaves
was it Fall who taught you how to let go so gracefully
while October’s wind trembled aspens like harp strings..?
I hear a thousand golden whispers of love
amongst the shedding trees of Autumn.
Susan Ashley
August 27, 2022
~ Second Place ~
Premiere Contest: Brian Strand Contest No 1178
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Second Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 13
Sponsor: Mark Toney
*Winesap: an American heirloom apple that ripens in October with a bright/dark red skin, a crisp texture, is aromatic and has a sweet-tart taste. Winesaps get their name due to their distinctive spicy wine-like flavor. Great for hard cider!
Photo: CU Denver News; 2020 Guide to Fall Foliage
I hope you would still remember me as we were,
every time you see pristine
passing pomegranate hues of the horizon.
When clouds smear our unspoken love
in inexplicable figurines,
of those simple moments we
reignited beneath our own twilight,
reliving our dreams in
remaining rosy dialects of romantic recollections,
as I have a confession to make
beneath this cluttering of chaos.
I wasn’t ready to let you nor our late night conversations go,
After all these years, all my heart ever desires,
is for you to see the broken empire
behind these weary eyes.
I have long been a gift of solitude and sorrow,
But as I’ve let you go, my hopes swayed a lilac
feathered goodbye,
Although you’ll never know how a simple hey,
once upon a time, saved my life,
and embellished my universe with pearlescent
moonstones and amethysts.
Yet I still question you, in rustic rhymes you can’t comprehend,
Have you forgotten how to pronounce my name?
is it because your heart doesn’t feel the same?
Have your desires now become tame?
As you walk away, why am I the one to take the blame?
Is our love now lost in history?
Is that why you’ve left me in so much mystery?
In your absence the mind battles against violence.
All is mute in a void of meaningless silence.
Did you forget to love me today?
Is this the price I have to pay?
Just for you to say that you’ll love me
again in the same way, someday.
I sit alone
wishing
we’d had
just one last summer
to observe the setting sun.
As sol slowly sinks
towards the horizon
I feast my eyes on
a smorgasbord of colour.
Such glorious shades
of
rich marmalade,
tangerine,
hints of cinnamon
spicy saffron
and liquid honey.
I smile as
sunbeams
of burnished gold
sparkle as they
dance on the water
Yet
a solitary tear
trickles down my cheek...
I miss you mum
Sometimes when
moonlight weeps to sleep,
I sit, draped
in burning dreams,
and beautiful nightmares
of moments lost,
engraved along the rising
of blushing blossoms,
within cerulean azure.
But shadows fade,
as clarity descends
upon the ivory beach,
adorned in pearls
and palm leaves.
I await for twilight to
sing my heart to
the milky-way.
I stretch my fingers,
to count glistening gems,
that shower silver
streaks upon my
stranded silhouette.
And I question the universe,
in r i d d l e s and r h y m e s~
what flows within
empty spaces
between iridescent
lines of stars?
Would I find traces
of footprints that left
the face of this earth,
where they
thrive eternal crests
in paradise?
Maybe there’s rivulets
of jewels with initials of
angels residing
in blissful musing,
in hope-filled reveries,
as the cosmic maestros,
orchestrate peaceful notes
with ethereal keys of faith,
In a choir for
celestial requiems,
to heal the grieving mind
that t i m e couldn’t mend.
I saw it rained
a rainbow with frozen
memories through my
glass window..
and I remembered
how I’ve always felt
closer to you in astral realms,
whilst soaked in
galactic light.
So tonight, I whisper,
prayers in poetic prose,
hoping you’ll feel my tears,
from the
highest halcyon haven.
Even death can
never kill a dreamer,
that bears memories,
and relives them
through classical sonatas.
Maybe this is how
a poet reminisces,
heartbeats in h e a v e n…
I’m singing honey-
rinsed sunflower serenades
twirling with corn rays…
and I’ll waltz through every fall…
to embrace his saffron warmth
This is too complex; i mean the throbbing wound
grating my belly on a dappled day, a day
breathing of tender winds and violins. Perhaps,
the strains of notes shuttle me back
to my grandfather’s library sitting on books
and archaic telescopes. Here, we would
empty the shoulders from a rough sail;
he scattering fiddle songs on painted walls…
the mellow notes tasted like hints
of vanilla scent warmed by cadences
of burning musical passion as his eyes ,
half-closed ,melted the noise
of an anxious world, of teary wrongs.
‘Bathe in the splendor of the night,’ he mused,
submitting to a trance smitten by some refrains
of Moonlight Serenade… and my rubber spine
would bend with the flesh of his vibrating hands;
violin strings weeping till we drowned in holy streams.
Now, I feel these undefined memories… the phantom
of light exhumed his lust for old charm;
and my eyes fall on the alley of roaming vagueness.
I could have loved him more than heaven
plucking his strings so soon, uninvited.
Nayda Ivette Negron's Memories Contest
I reminisce, I miss.... The smell of fresh home baked cookies, today they come from a box of stale goodies. Please and thank you, now very seldom heard. When kids were kids just having fun, not tied to a computer so they cannot run. Life was work hard with simple things, like flowers you would bring. The days of old are long gone, never to return. The ones I loved, the ones that loved me are all gone. I reminisce, I miss....
Date Written: 3/17/2021
3/19/2021 Poem of the Day
"And"
1 Place
I REMINSSE I MISSContest Judged: 4/13/2021
Sponsored by: James Edward Lee Sr.
Call me evil
Call me names
Call me
Kiss me on the lips
Kiss my heart
Kiss me
Wrap me in your arms
Hold me within your breasts
Whisper your longings
Touch me with your voice
Touch me with your caress
Touch me
Fondle the thought of forever
Fondle the thought of longing
Fondle me
Dance for the happiness inside of you
Dance to wash away your tears
Dance into my arms
Walk the path of wisdom
Run towards my heart
Kiss contentment
The sword of lust is shining
A dozen daffodils to undress your heart
Flower me with kisses
Call me
I sit alone and think of you
Of everything we've both been through
Silent tears pouring from my eyes
Like raindrops falling from the skies
I miss you so much every day
I love you is what I want to say
Jan Allison
4th December 2014