Best June Poems
My front porch welcomes your return each year.
Built like a Sherman tank with wings - the night
is filled with music to the springtime ear,
the buzz and clatter of your noisy flight.
Announcing to the world it now is June,
you fly into our lives and cast your spell,
reminding us that summer beckons soon -
sweet season of youth's freedom from school bell.
Ah yes, first love that bloomed in June's warm sun -
that first kiss, blushing like a timid squirrel
and holding hands in public with the one
who showed me I could be loved by a girl.
Your tenure brief; then by July's first day,
like childhood and young love, you've flown away.
Submitted to Summertime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
daisies in bright skirts -
bees in yellow jackets
come courting
Christmas Gifts
Christmas time was lonely for this young boy.
He lived a homeless life upon the street.
Remembering before, when life held joy,
Inside, warm and cozy near a hearth's heat.
Snowmen always seemed to share such delight
That he thought he would build one near each home,
Maybe joining in a fun snowball fight,
Always creating snowmen in the gloam;
Sweet surprise for families unaware.
Giving the only gift he could think of
In building each snowman he took such care,
For it was his kind way to share his love.
These gifts brought him such happiness to see
Smiles upon surprised faces filled with glee.
ring size 6 purple, green or blue
A silky-spun weave captures my attention
with its soft circular radiance
reflecting rainbows;
its fixed yet floating form
plays in sways of dappled sun,
appearing, then disappearing
as it is caught and released
by lighthearted fingers of light..
filigree beauty of the vacant web
captures my smile.
Amidst the ample weave
and supple spill of trellis green,
fruitful with a passion-palette
of June's nectar trumpets -
sprightly iridescence with a lusty hum
zips then hovers then zips again -
vying to capture my attention
with its flashy
flash...
nectar of my spirit healed with joy
my smile lasts an eternity.
JUNE 1944
they kissed with dreams of peace in clover - for him fulfilled in Norman field
Monoku - Cliche: All’s fair in love and war
September’s almost coming to its end.
The shining green that clothed the trees in June
Has darkened as the shorter days impend;
Their battered leaves will presently be strewn
Beneath the boughs, which tremble in the chill
That rushes in where winds till now waxed warm,
With Summer's swelter weakening until
We sense the Equinox's looming storm.
Because for all its beauties and its joys
No Summer can persist resisting change—
When held too long, what first creates, destroys;
And only then is born what’s rich and strange.
For Autumn heralds Winter, which will bring
The frosts which in their turn give way to Spring.
October 2, 2019
Previous title: "Summer's End"
Revised October 15, 2019:
The second quatrain originally went--
Beneath the boughs, which tremble in the chill
That rushes in where winds till now blew hot.
The days fly – they inevitably will—
Still, that is inescapably our lot.
But the second sentence seemed to me to be too weak and even bordering on the trite, so I rewrote it as above. Apologies to all who've read it to date!
Four-score years ago, the youth of Allied Armies stormed Normandy's shore;
Men in the December of their years returned today recalling the gore of war.
They wept at comrades graves who freely gave their all on that crimson strand;
Heros reaped by the Scythe of Death to ensure that freedom would yet stand.
Old men wept as the dulcet notes of Taps was played,
And rendered smart salutes as Old Glory was displayed!
Many of the veterans leaned on canes to guide their stride;
Others in wheel-chairs were helped by guides to ease their ride.
Gnarled hands that once held the fearsome weapons of war,
Beckon for peace that we shall know war nevermore!
Upon the plain above Omaha Beach lie 9000 buddies they mourn,
Who await Gabriel's clarion bugle call on that Triumphant Morn!
The glistening sand that once was stained by a hero's blood,
Is now cleansed by the ebb and flow of decades of tidal flood.
The beach that once resounded with the cannon's roar,
Now trembles with the booming surf rushing to the shore!
The hardships these gallant men suffered, we shall never know;
So much, so very much, to this Great Generation we owe!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
skies of azure blue
honeysuckle vines seeming . . .
to climb to heaven
king sun shines down as
muskmelons ripen in fields . . .
marigolds wear crowns
with easy labor
month six gives birth to summer . . .
dusk sweetly lingers
I d r
e a
m away
from the golden-laced drapes,
tracing smoke-veiled cloudscapes,
reminiscing rainbow reveries,
raining with musical laughter,
mirroring the sun within
my maternal spirit,
drawing cerulean smiles
across the kaleidoscopic sky
with initials of my
beloved June child.
As in acrylics, I find happiness,
and in palettes of pastels
I feel the twilight twinkles of time,
revealing rosemary reasons to rhyme
in rhinestone radiance,
releasing runes ~
ricocheting colors
of my hibiscus heartbeat…
O kismet constellations,
I breathe glitters of gratitude
to the sapphire stars
and swirling sparks
drifting through shifting monsoons,
cradled in the
blissful sighs of my son.
For in his presence,
murky mists of melancholy
fade into neon nothingness;
in his words,
a thousand gardens glisten and glow;
in his eyes,
I see hues of hope ~
ballad of a seraphic summer.
Perhaps, the voice of this
unconditional love remains
the synonym of happiness,
the syllables of zen,
and the metaphors of euphoria,
bound to the skin ~
of rooted truth,
truth of a mother
dressed in the dulcet dews
seized from the dawn
when he learned the light of life…
So let me rephrase,
in redundant dialects,
to write in coherent cadence,
of the warmth I weave,
of the peace I paint,
within jeweled lines of lavender…
I smile not because I see no sorrow,
but because my existence
is a mere iron-arched
gateway to guide astral rays
above the island shores
where his footprints echo,
porcelain patterns,
erasing fringes from
the blemished blurs
of grieving moonlight
caressing the sanguine sea
rippling with turquoise tranquility ~
a tale of teal tomorrow...
Sol
stands still
last of spring
Strawberry Moon
June
May 20, 2019
June or July Lanterne Poetry Contest
Caren Krutsinger, Sponsor
Summer set the dewy grass
Through my castle I pass
The sweet scent of the flowers
Bare feet dancing in the showers
08.06.2018
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
When A Fourth Line Helps It To Rhyme! Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
2nd place in the contest
every leaf stands still
cold raindrops pelt hot pavement
beast rumbling in sky
One plus one, square rooted in love, equals Won!
It doesn't matter what you say because I'm going insane
I've put a bullet in my brain, what's the name of the game that I have play to be free?
It really doesn't matter what anybody says to me, they didn't listen when I was spilling my guts, dropping pills and believing my paranoia
Even though paranoias just a frame of mind.
Now what is this I'm seeing when I'm swimming through a river of blood and shutting down
Drop another round begin to feel the love with an amorous desire for life or I'm lying
While I'm dying on the floor when I failed trying to stand back
Managed my doubt that the black cloud over my head will retract now and stop shrouding my world with its shadows and down pours
I'm damn bored, no I'm ill and what else can I feel?
What else do I need? I need motivation to succeed and achieve where I'm heading, where I'm going and where do I want to be at.
I haven't got a clue, I stopped thinking and stopped drinking and lost all my tact
It doesn't take long for the river of blood to start flowing again, it's rushing towards me and adroline is flowing through my veins
Depression often does it to the next sufferers head and you know it's getting bad when the rivers running red
It doesn't really matter what meds you use you always hear stories of the drug being abused and self medicating is just something that you choose
So if you don't have a plan about where you want to be take a f*** load of drugs and live a false reality
Its been going on for years and I got bored to f****** death
Fed up living life like it's a school exam test
I'll admit that pills, weed and coke can be fun for some in moderation but I won't again let them make me feel like I'm staring down the barrel of a shotgun.
Now my head is clear I'll let you in on one thing, you won't get where you're going if you keep living in a dream there's only two true things in life that arnt lies
And there's two true things in life that never dies and those two things are called smiles and cries
Is it a tragedy or comedy if you find comedy in tragedy
,
riddles N' rainbows paintbrush the day
summer's heaviness invades
rain circumvents geraniums
ant's N' azaleas dance through sidewalks
where tiny green grass creep 'neath weeds
to see sun seed grey with bright
frogs N' grasshoppers flop along
best friends
when storm clouds bend beyond old oak trees
boys N' girls skip rope,
Double Dutch N' such
up N' down the cul de sac curve
moms N' dads pretend everything's ok
when they've long since strayed away
from light N' love
gloves come off
when lights go out
they scream N' shout
the children barely notice
yet they'll feel the coldness N' cold shoulders
as it's gets colder N' colder
just not days N' nights like now
fuss N' fights have no place
right here N' right now
along these roasting roads
where ticky tack homes
crowd suburbia
where riddles N' rainbows paintbrush the day
summer's heaviness invades
as nature n' naïve children play...
today ,
~JSLambert 2014