Best Lyre Poems
GIRL PLAYING LYRE - by Tadeusz Styka
I'm a sweet girl,
Playing my lyre,
Music does whirl,
Quenching heart fire,
Hair flying free,
Eyes lost in dream,
Lyre defines me,
Sad strains soft scream,
Song of the lyre
Calls out to you,
Hands do inspire
Melody blue,
I look for you,
As hands thrum tune,
And implore you,
Hear my soul croon,
Lyre chords haunt you,
Fingers strum slow,
Love notes taunt you,
Air set aglow!
25th March 2023
For The contest
"Fill Up A Scroll "
With hand upon the golden lyre
Her fingers intertwined the wire
With her hair, like burning fire
Rest upon her breast
The music that she plays, it tells
Of love that's lost, and broken spells
Tolling like cathedral bells
Down deep inside her chest
From the scroll, she frees each note
With her heart, they rise then float
Beyond the castle walls and moat
Truly she is aptly blessed
Gently now, she reaches too
Another scroll She'll play for you
And taming that unruly shrew
Freeing you to lie and rest
Nero was a cruel, unfair emperor playing
the lyre as his disguise to conceal his consuming guilt;
and he caused destruction without feeling
an ounce of pity for those he governed with distrust.
Why did he want to destroy a city so mighty and glorious,
and replace it with a Golden Palace and magnificent gardens?
It seems inconceivable, but it was confirmed by many as the Great Fire
which ravaged Rome for six horrible days...who dared to call Nero a liar?
On the rooftop, with the widest view of Rome burning underneath,
Nero played the lyre as his disguise...singing,"The destruction of Troy" with derision.
And while looking so innocent and sad, he did nothing to control it;
wasn't his madness an evident sign of that contemplated act brought to completion?
Finding the scapegoats was too easy for him, to cover up his evil deed...
he blamed the Christians and had them thrown to the beasts of the Colosseum,
but many more were crucified along the Via Appia and was Nero appeased?
No, he still continued to play the lyre as his disguise with increased delirium.
This is my Homophone contest submission
Ewe No A Lyre
their once was a man with a bore
who worked down at the local bizarre
the bore eight corn colonels four lunch
and blew genes whir awl the man war
owe the bore eight serial two
from a plait unlike me oar ewe
we wood knead a bowl and a spoon
ore a mop wood bee totally due
won fine weak day mourn wile working
he brood tee four the men who maid toys
making tee and giving assistants
was that witch maid the mane men
his buoys
his gnu fame was nice
and it urned hymn
a day too lien back and relax
sow he went strait too his sweet
and wile still on his feat
he eight mince, mustered, pees and bare meet
at work he aloud his ant two chute bawl
butt four know obvious reason at awl
she through bred and plumb pi at
the goal
he chaste her aweigh
butt owe my he felt sow bad
sew he cent her to scents and a flour
and aloud her two come back inn an our
the gilt she felt
brought her pane
four she new she ode hymn sew much
she gathered her teem just inn thyme
two sing thank ewe sow very much.
win he herd the whey
they whir singing
it brought a tier too his I
he ran too the gait
two waive wildly
wile screaming a hi pitched buy by.
by Rochelle Harris
Lyre that you strum
Melody in hum
A tale, myth or a thrum?
Erato
Each of the nine Muses
Endeavor to inspire.
Erato, lyre in hand,
Engages with men's minds,
Elegantly with words ...
Each phoneme, each pattern
Encourages lyrics.
in meadows more verdant than evergreen
there is but an Orphic lyre that tingles
in dream’s delight,
haunting, husking, heaving
the songs my soul cannot reach
except in interludes of moonlight’s chant,
as the nearness of grasses twirl my hair
dancing with inner wolves
in velvet chorus...not of moaning trespasses
but for now,
if only for now,
on the stage of star-glow blushing my face
I am relieved from the rasp of past’s tatters...
this same plucking of lyre fiddles higher higher
while the movement of its rhapsody
dangles like a mythical lore on duskfall's arms
cleansing me from a silent scream so punishing.
Paint Me A Picture 4 for Silent One's Contest
10/11/2017
The sunset whispers get together in the bowl
The electricity hands them over the momentum
The oranges in the soul a bit out of control
The golden darkness stirs the dormant venom
My horizons crumble in the pink petals
As you let all the birds fly into ...
My balance the toxic touch unsettles
In the inflamed heart beat just me and you
See dear how the red corpuscles crowd
In the crazy chocolate wafers in delight
Our ionised charges unleash aloud
The sparks as the prelude to the night
Tonight we will set free all chains
In compliance with the scarlet gravity
Perfumed storm must precede the rains
Following the deluge of the insanity
Beat by beat the pulls defeat all the dams
The water is in a purple rebellion
The universe tonight into our hands
The splattered sun calls for the stallion
The black and orange mingling in the two sounds
The million sparks bloom out from the two fires
The dance of the fire with the two heats unwound
The twilight music of the two tidal lyres
___________________________________________________
March 27, 2018
For Picture This - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Based on Image 3
Whisper you love me
and I'll tell the whole
world
We can dance fantango
The audience is the
World
So than it's time
So than we do
Shout it out
You love me
I'll send a shout out
To you
Say you'll marry me
And wanna keep me
Yours
Cause there's a lot of
Loving
And places to explore
So than we're lovers
Let's find a place to
Kiss
When were old folks
We can reminisce
Talk about the old days
Exaggerate the truth
Sip conance with our
Coffee
Exchange anniversary
Gifts
Tell the world you love
Me
That's when we'll start
Say it with feelings
True love comes from the
Heart....... ??!
From don't get all Moody: you know I Love you!
Intros to "The BankDay Buster"
Whisper you love me
and I'll tell the whole
world
We can dance fantango
The audience is the
World
So than it's time
So than we do
Shout it out
You love me
I'll send a shout out
To you
Say you'll marry me
And wanna keep me
Yours
Cause there's a lot of
Loving
And places to explore
So than we're lovers
Let's find a place to
Kiss
When were old folks
We can reminisce
Talk about the old days
Exaggerate the truth
Sip conance with our
Coffee
Exchange anniversary
Gifts
Tell the world you love
Me
That's when we'll start
Say it with feelings
True love comes from the
Heart....... ??!
From don't get all Moody: you know I Love you!
Compare the lyre to an individual whisper
Using its perception in a character of song,
Title it together with a finer tune, and crisper
A voice with an opinion shall belong.
The dance in all perspective, will arrange
A silence of a kind, with pause between-
With undulating goals where rhythms change
Our universal orbits self esteem.
An independent dance that raged with war;
From natures balance, dreams beyond compare
That song and dance had trust in God before,
Our pride of place in space, had someone there.
The lyre defines our time, where space expands
Composed responsibility of wills,
That who shall play the instrument with hands
Shall play with godly power, all those skills.
when a liar plays lyre
the ignorant
rash to dance madly
the wise
think fast, first
Loves Lyre
The days are longer than the marches
to the sunsets long awaited peace
of lovers lost in ego driven searches
for memories - too long away - to reach.
The scent of you, like flowers, slowly faded
washed away in tears of selfish fear
as war has left us all a bit more jaded
less certain of - for what it is - we care.
Dreams reduced to fitful, twitching, aching
to reclaim the picture fading in the dust
wondering if the loneliness is owing
to the cracks in young devotions crumbling trust.
Darkness cannot blanket duties virtue
nor duty douse a living passions fire
for when they sound the bell for curfew
on the wind there drifts the sound of lover’s lyre.
7/28/2014
for – Isaiah Zerbst
contest – Fill Up a Scroll
with her eyes smiling back
at his furtive glances,
she swishes and flings
ebony hair forward over
her left shoulder, revealing
such lovely neck and nape,
and, with a towel, she lazily
caresses her wet tresses;
turning her head, she twists
the carefree sliver of hair,
and, hurriedly, wrung water
meanders down her neckline;
her throat, casts a crystalline
silhouette against a red sky;
freed from her grip, her locks
fall and sway to the rhythmic
rolling of waves in a black sea,
windswept, driven so far away;
mustering again the courage
to gaze at her, he is stunned
by her downcast eyes that only
sharpen her bewitching profile,
turning his guts into delicate
strings of a very nervous lyre !
L-yre of Jane is played
A-t the floor near the villa's door;
R-apture and given gaiety
A-re added to the pleasure.
J-ane's lyre is gladly played
A-t the bench near the villa's movable piece;
N-ice stuff of the harp class
E-specially was used in ancient Greece.
V-iolin, guitar, and other
I-nstruments with strings
L-et one hear the good sound
L-eading him to thrilling things.
A-s Jane's lyre is played,
F-illing one's heart with joy;
U-se the rare opportunity,
E-njoying the musical toy.
R-ainy night won't pass by
T-ill September twenty-four;
E-very year Jane's lyre is played near the villa's door.