Best Lifeautumn Poems
love born ‘neath star sequins
a hand extended and life’s slow dance begins
confidential whispers exchanged
vows professed on a sun-kissed beach
eternity held in promises
leaping dolphins revel in joy
and they return when azure skies beckon the first-born’s toes to touch the ocean
when the family erects sandcastles while waves lap the shore
when the birds have left the nest as autumn fog covers the sea
when aging lovers see sunset casting a pink aura on lazy clouds
when the final glimmer of light surrenders to celestial curtains
until the surviving spouse emits a sigh in the solitude of darkness
*Entry for Nik Kulik's “Darn, I Wish I Wrote Whis” Contest
Her Autumn red hair
Like leaves on the turn
A colour so
Delightful auburn
A smile that turns
Heads in the room
An aura of cheer
Like a new spring bloom
This youngster she is
A breath of fresh air
When the young boys pass
They delightfully stare
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-5.php
I smell sweet country spring waves of many scents.
I tell of beauty of rolling hills, creating a valley.
I touch the love of my life, luckier than many gents.
I have spoken of my sorrows; I have nothing to tally.
My desires and dreams have faded with this maturity.
However, others have taken shape to which I follow.
I need to hear that I have learned from the majority.
I need to hear that at least my mind is not hollow.
I need to hear that somehow I have made a difference.
I need to hear that love I have given; there is a reason.
For past thoughts and wishes, I ask for reverence.
Since my seed has stopped, I have no new season,
I smell crispness of cool autumn air at the end.
I tell of loneliness of country roads to nowhere.
I feel loss of many loves with no future to send.
I have spoken words in ink, all my heart can bare.
However, my mind, I hear, many may say I am selfish.
However, most of you have continuation to relinquish.
My friend within I beg you to stop searching for a wish.
Then possibly more things in life, you may accomplish.
Amidst the mists and coldest frosts,
With naked wrists and darkest souls,
She slams her fists against the bars,
And still she screams she sees the ghosts.
Through summer days and autumn nights,
Through season’s end and blinded sights,
They keep her down and clip her wings,
To mute the lovely song she sings.
In troubled times for modest lives,
To see the truth beyond the lies,
As time goes by and death comes 'round,
Her body’s cast upon the ground.
Through hearts of ice and hands of stone,
The devil’s wife’s possessed the throne.
But even though pain’s at it’s most,
She’ll still admit she’s seen the ghosts.
So many years doing what I should
Daughter, sister, wife, mother
Expectations to meet, unrequited dreams to fulfill
Oh how exhausting it all proved to be
Stretching myself thin, reaching for the brass ring
Child, woman, seeker, believer
Knowing all my dreams were just around the bend
Always just around the bend
Is it any wonder I lost myself
Naive, hopeful, loyal, passionate
In time the girl I was found her voice again
To damnation with their expectations
A mid-life crisis they say
Foolish, anxious, emotional, angry
Not herself, just a phase to be endured
Oh how great was their surprise
Standing like an autumn maple
Strong, confident, colorful, true
Singing a familiar song not heard in decades
Finally rounding the bend
If a mid-life crisis it be, bring it on, I say
Dreamer, achiever, lover, friend
I am the butterfly emerged from sleep and ready to fly
Fly with me, see the beauty in life, or be left behind
In a quiet town
Of small shops
Ice cream
And American flags
I feel the wind
Shifting from
Summer breeze
To Autumn chill.
Holding a drink
I marvel at the colors
The sunlight brings
To my eyes
A mystery
I can never explain.
Like a greedy child
I drink it all
Feeling its warm caress
Drift aimlessly downward
In my time
I've had mountains full of ideas
And good memories
That I keep
Close to my heart
I now realize
Life did not change
I did
And what I need now
Are good friends,
Honest talks
And simpler times.
Bound by preconceptions of what is and what cannot be,
we condemn and deny life's inherent duplicity,
that birds sing the songs of God is truly reality
and our thoughts and dreams take flight like leaves from an autumn tree.
A Renga:
Unintended
The full moon hovers
Just above the horizon
In the freezing air
Howling for a few minutes
A few dogs in the distance
With great insistence
They argue with each other
About politics
"I don't mean to contradict,
Then again, maybe I do."
Perhaps they are through,
Perhaps she will try again,
A refreshing wind
The apple tree, once again,
Tosses blossoms in the air
At the County Fair
Couples prance in the line dance
To a steady beat
In the ealry evening heat
Sipping tea and lemonade
He is still afraid
They won't be interested,
He maintains silence
Noting the correspondence,
Patterns of the earth and sky
As oak leaves defy
The deepening autumn cool
She closes a door
This hasn't happened before
A road that's unknown beckons
Drifting languid, light
upon the damp breeze,
the seeds of milk weed fairy fly
upon the aching air.
Snow white, weightless, dancers
skirts upturned before the coarser green
of velvet lawn they flee.
Backlit as virgin lovers
upon the meadow’s spawn.
The castle walls dare not belay
the upward loft with daunting gray
for on fragile wings in autumn damp
The world is full, a whorl in white.
Good Friends:
A 12 Verse Renga
After the Concert
After the concert
The full moon in the clear sky
And the autumn wind
Though it is late in the night
The musicians are hungry
Crowds are gathering
For the restaurant opening
And the five-star chef
All alone in the alley
Asleep in the packing crate
The shelter is full
Ice grips the streets and sidewalks
She buys a new scarf
Harsh static from the cellphone
Leaves a question in the heart
Patiently he says,
"I have told you many times
How much I love you."
A dozen wine red roses
In an antique crystal vase
The lengthening days
Bring the first warm afternoon
After months of cold
"Why don't you go out and play?"
(Mom wants some time by herself.)
In the summer heat
Dodgeball in the public park
And the radio
"I think they grow up too fast,"
Says the soldier with one leg
Past harks out in chirp, those sad lores
that have dried tears wrapped in autumn leaves
hopes and aspirations raped till blue
grief taped tight like glue.
Years went in events failed
in wounds ,salty fingers railed
everything tried
eventually cried.
Now is no better
just got a broken one
and a bone setter
cracked three
as I tried
the jump,
did I crash
with a thump
that I did
did not matter
I won
a gold
in my hold
did ..!
This day and this hour
seems like I pay well for
what I do win
with hard work or sin
with perspire or grime
but it is not all lime.
Dunno what holds in dark
is there any spark
away from the bloody stark
there is that green park
where I sit and ponder
eyes going yonder
did I not do enough running
should I not stop gunning
let the targets walk
let them stalk
you run
as a shadow
and let them follow
like sun.
Form:
Beneath the eyebrows, windows.
When I was a child- fresh of life;
Seasons flew past my watching,
Mountains of newness grew before me-
-And I conquered Everest...
Ran like the wind,
Now;
Taken like an autumn leaf-
Weathered and ready for composting;
They give us mood, gesticulation;
Always moving, eyes are on us-
Tell me a story of your ways; what did you see?
Just now or many years ago.
Windows-
To earth, arriving home
Sitting on its clay- waiting
Watching-
Beneath the eyebrows,
Through windows fixed once,
So I could continue to see my view;
A way of life- real and lived in full.
These I will leave to watch over you,
My spirit and soul are my vision now.
I watch spring bud from my window.
I watch my life go by without a flicker of hope from my window.
I watch summer blossom from my window.
I watch and wonder why from my window.
I watch autumn turn to a spectrum of color from my window.
I watch as time starts to die from my window.
I watch autumn fade from red and orange
to winter white from my window.
I watch as I die from my window.
© 2010 Charles Dennis
http://www.charlesdennis.netne.net
the slightest touch of a hand on your shoulder
the laugh of a child as he plays with his mother
sipping the last drop of golden water
having enough strength to smash a boulder
whispers in the wind that sing a sad song
listen to the heart of a tree
hear it beat along
a scream from a woman as she begs for mercy
mankind runs from their worries
the soft red on an autumn leaf
the sands of time have stopped
don't be scared if your life has ended
cause we give Power to the Poems
I was scolded for littering an orange peel.
I and this couch and an iguana melt.
I am longing for things to be more than real.
She blushes like a child in an autumn fog.
She bleats to scare winter from the ridge of her nostrils.
She grows like a berrypatch in moonlight, after the thaw.
He is my friend’s iguana there.
He looks comfy on the couch.
He only wants to feel good.