Best Lazing Poems
When I was down in the dumps
I longed to be away from the din of the world
And a quiet place I sought
Nature has always been my refuge
Amid the clump of trees where the wind caresses the leaves
Where birds twitter and trill their songs
Like a hermit I sat, my eyes closed, my body lazing
My mind, open to the soft vibrations around
I took a deep breath inhaling the fragrance of flowers
And let the quietude envelop my being
Gliding through the layers of my consciousness
Dancing to the beats of my inner symphony
I let myself swim in the ocean of stillness
I felt the tranquil touch of an unseen presence
I heard a caring voice from somewhere
A faint voice quite reassuring, so near
Within me the wider Life emerged
And the lesser life finally submerged
I experienced true joy within
Peace filled, drowning all my tribulations
And I knew it was heaven sent!
_________________________________
.19.2022
A Quiet Place Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
The sun rests in its golden orb, shining bright dazzling the eyes
Meadows green with dew drops fresh, the cattle lazing away cries
The farmhands nap beneath the trees, the breeze caress and dies
As the curfew knells folks head home and pray
Thanking the Lord for the rewarding day
Face brimming with sheer bliss and mirth
Content they praise and sing from birth
What true happiness can be witnessed herein
For the Lord blesseth those who seek of him.
Those greedy and selfish , pine more riches
Idle days wasted, in slumber and glitches
While holding contempt for those plebeians
And are never content, contrasting agrarians
No time for Lord, who observe cadence
No more thanks for the blessings immense
Heaven doth beckon those who believe
And the rest he reckon, to try and grieve
For....
This is the day that God gave to play and he purvey
This is the day that God gave to toil and stop foil
This is the world that God gave, for men to live and pray
This is the world that God gave to care, share and stay.
What a wonderful world!!!
© Nadiya (28 Jan '15)
*Won 3rd place on 30 Jan 2015 in the contest 'This is the day that Lord gave' by Verlena S. Walker
Romantic Waters
Romance dwells in moving waters
Cerulean lake lapping the shore...
Moonlight cast across the waves
As the sea sings of passion's amour.
Kayaking on the Russian river
In twilight's softest silhouette...
Feeling the droplets from Niagara
Lovers kiss near romantic falls.
Skinny dipping in an aqua lagoon
To cool before a night of passion.
Lazing next in hot spring waters
Encompassed in aurora's lights.
Lotus blossoms bask in waters
Of loving mem'ries so sublime.
Romance dwells in moving waters
In love straight from Nature's heart.
5-19-2017
Stiff, stifling, arid air: snakes, lizards, sand,
and cactus. Scorched red rocks and baking skin.
My canteen empty in a barren land -
my romance landscape till first love walked in.
One summer evening under moon's cool beam,
the desert's xeric heat no longer cursed.
Lazing with friends. A pool... in walked my dream.
First glance: a tall, cool drink to slake all thirst.
Then as her eyes met mine, my blood ran warm.
My hand touched hers; both temp and pulse were raised.
In time, slow dancing - two bodies conform,
and with that first kiss, fulgent flames soon blazed.
The desert heat from which I'd just emerged
blithely returned, as first love's swelter surged.
In a perfect world, I think we would get to be the age
we looked and felt our best.
I’d be in my 40’s, and I would have stopped aging.
Calories would not mean a thing.
Perfect bodies need no rules
of when, where, how or what to eat.
If I wanted a Cinnabon, I’d have it,
and then I‘d have one more.
Haagen-Dazs would inhabit my freezer.
Boxes of Lindor chocolates would adorn my pantry shelves.
Doritos and cans of nacho cheese dip would be there as well.
I’d have a man who pampered me.
On weekends we’d go dancing.
In summer we’d be on jet skis,
partying with friends, and lazing about.
Wait! It would be a perfect world.
All year long would be like summer then.
Probably I’d be on an island.
Yes, in a beautiful home on a beautiful island.
In a perfect world, people do what people want to do.
Me, I‘d not be working!
Robot people would clean my house.
And since I would be rich,
there would be no poverty in a perfect world.
I mean, I would not want the guilty conscience
of being rich while others would be poor.
Everyone would have to be
pretty much the same as me!
I suppose the folks who love to work
would still be working.
Folks like me would be writing poetry.
But wait! What would I have to write about?
There would be no sacrifice, no pain.
Where would be the heart in poetry?
No injustices to speak out against either
if all were free and living in ease.
If we stayed young and didn’t age,
nostalgic poetry would be a thing of the past.
If everything were beautiful,
could we appreciate the many things we had?
We wouldn’t know how good we had it,
If we had no misery to ever write about.
On further thought, I have come to this conclusion.
In a perfect world,
there could be no real poetry -
only pretty little posies in an already pretty world.
What then, I ask, would be my purpose?
Written Feb. 14, 2016. Note to Catie: Not sure if this is exactly free verse. In a short time, this was all that could come to me, but I enjoyed reflecting on the topic!
Oh buzz off you crazy crazy hornet
Trying to land here upon my buttock,
Here I am eating my crispy cornet
Lazing naked in my garden hammock.
Tried to coax it with my berry ice cream
But alas it seems unprepared or blind,
Dancing upon an invisible beam
Homing in on me with a one track mind.
Could it be I’ve enhanced the essence air
With a gross wind to further relieve me,
Or is this a mock symphony of flair
Of a Britain’s got talent “Bumble Bee?”
His “The classical flight” winning first prize
In pain my swelling one hell of a size!
© Harry J Horsman 2015
In a warm restaurant interior
Lazing away, coffee in hand
A hot form sitting across, a platter of fruits
My heart skipped a beat, as she lifted her fork,
A berry making its way, unto her luscious mouth
Gentle a bite and the juice spill, I wish to devour
My chest searing hot, a sweet feel that caused
Approach her close, offered a wipe
She laughs in answer at my sight
In awe I find the reason for her mirth
a murky brown spot on white
My face blushed I retire, empty cup in hand
For the result of the scald on my chest was the cause.
© Nadiya (5 Feb 15)
Younger days, were greener days
Silver memories on the shelf
Yesterdays, in many ways
So wrapped up with myself
Saturdays, were laughing days
When time was still in wealth
Every day, that passed my way
Slipped on by in stealth
Now these days, I hang and graze
No longer pull the plough
So eyes may gaze on coming days
Not yet thrown in the towel
All those days, left in a haze
Wont come back, no how
So I say, come what may
It doesn't matter now
Any day that I can stay
No need to wear a frown
Sunny days or rainy days
Just simply hang around
Lazing days, embracing ways
To lay my trophies down
When my days, all pass away
My poems are where I'll be found
March 15 2016
Daniel Turner
Every day I wait for you to return from work
And it becomes a celebration in my life.
As the hours pass and the time approaches
For you to come home to me, a smile
Appears on my lips and remains, along with
Memories we have blissfully shared together.
Our front door opens and I rush into your arms.
There is never enough time for us to be together.
My eyes are closed as your fingertips caress my face
Sending chills through my entire body, and I shiver.
The warmth of your love radiates from your presence
And soon my skin becomes flush with your kisses.
I wish we could remain forever in each others arms.
I love the way your eyes draw me in when I am across
The room from you, they speak to me in the language of love.
We share the same love of music; songs that contain
For us special memories of our times spent together.
The day you picked out our song 'Endless Love' holds
Such loving thoughts everytime I hear it play on the radio,
I remember dancing cheek to cheek to that melodic music
And my world spins encircled by those romantic moments.
Our days spent at the sandy beach lazing in the sun while
The sound of waves lapping the shore shared Nature's music.
We spent the afternoon until that first star appeared and like
Children we both made a spoken wish...to be happy forever.
2-23-18
Free Verse on Love - Poetry Contest ~First Place~
Sponsor Laura Loo
“You have to get a job, my son,
Your mother and I agree.
You can’t spend your life just loafing around,
Sponging on her and me.”
And, although it went against the grain,
I realized I must.
So I got a job as a baker
To earn an honest crust.
My father and mother egged me on
And, to make sure I wasn’t lazing,
They bought me an alarm clock,
So I could be self-raising.
I made the occasional bloomer,
As anyone new might have done.
I forgot to turn the oven on
And invented the cold cross bun.
My rich fruit cake was sometimes poor;
My sponge cake sometimes flat.
But now I have the hang of it,
I’ve got it all off pat.
I’m really on a roll now,
Forever on the go.
I have to keep on working,
Because I kneed the dough.
31st May 2022
Merger With Food poetry contest
Sponsor Natasha L Scragg
GUESTS OF EMBERA DRUA
We are guests in this village on the Chagris River shore.
Tribe members of Embera Drua twist palms of Panama -
embrace us each, with this wreath of scented flora,
language barriers break down with food and dance.
In this jungle we’ve no need to be formal in dress,
the natives share achiote seeds to redden my lips and cheeks.
And fresh coconut chased down with sips of sugar cane,
plenteous Panamanian fruit, hot lunch served in banana leaves.
Before we position our eyes upon the treasured trades
we are invited to join them for some entertainment.
Our acquaintances in tribal wear, write lyrics upon
their dirt floor ballroom, with calloused feet.
Dressed in paloma skirt and cotton taparabo, men and women
invite tourists to dance with them, as drums pulse and flutes charm.
We will remember the stilted homes of our friends,
dogs lazing underneath the floor, abundance of fruit trees,
a school in development so students can remain with parents
instead of placing sandals upon feet and leaving their family home.
Our dugout canoe glides back to the shore of lily pads,
we swim with invigorated thoughts and gladness.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
A single drop of water might be a source of solace.
Since what is unseen is destroyed, allow me to stay.
A magnificent ecstasy fantasy, a dreamlike palace
Dreary midwinter is no match for Elysium malice!
Hiding from prying eyes, a visit under a gloomy sky
A single drop of water might be a source of solace.
With mind two-way mirror, despite how lawless,
Souls glance at each other; let me for a while sway.
A magnificent ecstasy fantasy, a dreamlike palace
We're falling into the abyss, surrounded by darkness.
Yield to the crowds swirling cognitive waters bay.
A single drop of water might be a source of solace.
Come level my solace, lines contain no rare promise
Lazing in wilderness fields, Elysian meadows fly.
A magnificent ecstasy fantasy, a dreamlike palace
Receiving prizes while lying on the desolate display.
Refilling, ripping, and sowing occur after we pray.
A magnificent ecstasy fantasy, a dreamlike palace
A single drop of water might be a source of solace.
Written: February 07, 2023
The only ounce of energy I'll be expending today
is having picked up a pen to scrawl these lines...
"I have declared this to be Dolce Far Niente Day."
Enjoying the sweet life, doing nothing by design.
I'll be spending time as I desire lazing in a chaise,
pretending I'm vacationing in the hills of Tuscany
whose orchards are heavy with grapes I must praise
for the mellow flavor of the fine wine offered me.
I will indulge myself enjoying their sweet bouquet,
malingering while listening to Chopin's Polonaise.
It's my intent to hold an annual Dole Far Niente Day
and have it last 'til stars ignite the night sky ablaze.
I will enjoy pampering myself with nothing more to do
but gaze on the clear blue waters of the Ligurian Sea.
Nothing will be hampering my idle nor twist it askew,
for I'll pay no heed to misgivings while in this reverie.
No more writing for I've taken good measure this day.
Pool waters are calling me, where I'll float peacefully
as twilight darkens. I'll take pleasure as I gently sway
in a hammock, content to stare at the moon dreamily.
Eerily absent at first
neither dormant nor lurking
Even at maturation and beyond
neither networking nor smirking
In stealthy pursuit, it may produce
a twinge here, a creak there
Nothing serioius
nothing you can't bear...
Suddenly, there's a little more of you around the middle
You linger at the table, lazing and longing the morning away
The grind you'd long ago mastered starts impeding
on your newly precious days
You reach for the caffeine a little too often
and an afternoon nap is no longer foreign
Weekends can't come soon enough
and the bosses all act so young and tough
... Now what are you doing walking with a cane
and when did you come to fear a short drive in the rain
Every youth in a hoodie is a threat to you
~ Terror rules what's left of your brain
Through the dewy panes
As my eyes scan through my garden
Everytime I am spellbound
My childhood's hideout
My favourite room beneath blue skies
Sound of splashing water
Coming from the bird bath
Clapping of leaves when spring breeze blows
Each plant wearing distinct shades of green
Music of bumble bees
And games of squirrels
Frivolous flights of butterflies
Soaring in and out of rims
Sights of stones and rocks
And velvety moss on the walls
With spring in the corners
Buds unfurl meek petals
Tiny wildflowers smile amid rose bushes
Ladybirds and caterpillars
Make their presence feel
Saying a silent hello
Cuckoo and robins perch on mango tree
Just where my garden ends
Filling music with perfect notes
In the air no one can ever sing
My little garden invites me
Every day for a walk
To enjoy the riches no castle can ever render
Beauty and music mingled to soothe my chaotic mind
You can find me
Lazing on the caned bench every evening
23/02/2019