Best Meandered Poems
I followed one day a spring breeze at play.
It seemed not to know where to go.
And aimlessly, I - like a butterfly -
meandered with it to and fro.
Among bright blue bells, it tired a spell.
Recovering, it picked up speed.
Alongside a rill, I ran with a thrill
just to know where the breeze might lead.
My heart filled with song as I danced along,
careening through meadows of green.
And then the breeze dove into a large grove,
the loveliest I’d ever seen.
No longer a breeze, it whipped around trees.
It whistled while beckoning me,
and as it passed through where tall redwoods grew,
I was following, wild and free.
In that beautiful place, it changed its pace
and got stronger, for the breeze goes
where sturdy trees thrive. I felt so alive!
I have been to where the wind blows.
Categories:
meandered, wind,
Form:
Quatrain
"In the echo of silence, the whispers of the Divine are heard." By Rumi
I entered the winding path into the captivating vale
Surrounded by ice-capped mountains and ancient trees
Firs, larches, redwoods, spruce, and ash, all grand
I shouted in glee: “I’m here!” All around some Echo replied.
A repetitive Echo, always vibrating and mesmerising.
What a singular sound to hear nature at its best!
I lounged beneath the shade of an old maple tree,
Where the verdant vale lay sprawled in front of me.
Balmy breezes blew through dark green trees, an Echo divine.
Tiny thrushes flitted from bush to bush.
They permeated the vale with their familiar songs.
Occasionally they rested on a dense bush,
Hush! Did I hear the song again?
Choirs of echo resounded all around the lush plateau.
Down on the majestic plain, a babbling brook meandered
Towards a clump of cottages, providing water for all.
The rivulet was a sight with fronds of ferns unfolding.
How delightful to hear the water emanating such dulcet echo
As the stream zigzagged around rocks and small waterfalls.
Every echo ended in silence profound and I was in God’s peace.
A holy hymn hummed serene: echo after echo, all divine.
Placed 1
Categories:
meandered, bird, mountains, river,
Form:
Imagism
Hand in hand, we fluttered like two butterflies
among the fragrant flowers of the field
and meandered, singing songs, along a stream.
No agendas to keep to; no schedules to curtail
the pure pleasure that we took
in consuming every lovely hour of our Saturday.
With our picnic lunch, we sat down on a blanket.
Later we lay looking up at clouds.
Transported to the wonderland of our imagination,
we named them fluffy mountain ranges,
bunnies, sheep, and Easter lily petals
until they morphed into lopsided bearded faces,
huge white polar bears and cotton-breathing dragons.
Unexpectedly, the clouds grew dark, and suddenly,
we saw and felt large raindrops splatter on our skin.
We fled our happy field, arriving home - two children,
wet and laughing, just as the spring shower let up.
How were we to know in the springtime of our lives
that the field and the rain from which we fled
I’d one day write about as metaphors for youth.
Categories:
meandered, easter, happy, life, spring,
Form:
Free verse
Do you remember the creek you and I
meandered with. . . those many years ago?
Its half-forgotten end has now run dry
and vanished like the ferns that used to grow
along the border of the glade we two
had happily discovered, claimed as ours,
and even then, I guess we somehow knew
that time was fleet; we picked sweet wild flowers,
made friendship garlands. Sunny daffodils
were blooms you liked the best. I liked the blue.
And then we raced each other up small hills,
lay laughing in green grass, friends ever true!
I don't run now! I spread a blanket and
weave yellow rings, remembering my friend.
Categories:
meandered, daffodils, friendship,
Form:
Sonnet
Wide the mirrored water stretched,
licking green upon the pointed pines, limbs sweeping low and cool.
The creek meandered, soft giggles escaping mossy rocks
where polliwogs swam, nearly, but not quite frogs, still sporting pubescent tails;
the adults pontificating against the shallow bank,
throats swollen with amphibious wisdom.
Soft brown mud squished, a buttered cream,
between summer toasted toes wading into wonder.
Fragrant evening campfires heightened hungers,
supper roasting over charred coals flavored
the stirrings of a tempting crush on a boy much older;
this girl just barely navigating puberty's powerful push,
his smile extracting heightened pulse, blush brushed.
Life's long summer slipped slowly away
and autumn found his wife and child laying him down,
the plot unknown, unmarked by me;
yet, painful, still, the memory of broken trust,
of love-crust pitched to a not quite woman
deep in the rusting woods of Timberland.
Copyright, February 14, 2016
Categories:
meandered, betrayal, crush, first love,
Form:
Free verse
~~
My thoughts let go of a thousand memories,
Like faces, dates, times and places;
Yet, I can easily recall each and every detail,
On the day of your funeral.
O the grieving . . .
In the middle of a snow storm I followed,
And the wind blew back my long hair;
As we meandered down a winding cold path,
The wild storm paused in the trees.
O the weeping . . .
Snowflakes fell on me from the tangled branches,
Falling like crying tears cascading down;
I am lost and moaning in this forever, ever memory,
And now the snow drifts in the cemetery.
O the sadness . . .
A headstone is buried deep in the pure white,
And but one engraved word is revealed;
In this pristine cold, dead winter wonderland,
Only one word can be seen, mother.
O the lamenting . . .
Hidden beneath the snow . . .
I will treasure your arms last embrace mother
Till this heart stops beating . . . .
_________________________________
September 24, 2014
Poetry/Verse/O The Grieving
Copyright Protected, ID 09-602-798-24
All Rights Reserved, 2014, Constance La France
Entered into the contest, A poem not entered in a contest,
sponsor, Poet Destroyer Judged 2014
Fourth Place
Categories:
meandered, death, funeral, grief,
Form:
Free verse
My ordinary life -
like the plain stretching across the region of my birth,
has been for the most part
rather smooth.
Though sometimes on my path, I’d encounter hills,
they were few and were not difficult
to get over.
One day on my travels when I was still young
I came across a man who, like a majestic mountain,
would take my breath away.
He captured my attention completely,
distracting me from all the normal things
my plain life had entailed.
When he smiled, it was as if
the sun were peeking over him
in golden splendor.
Madly in love with him I fell,
and every day I worshiped at the mountain.
This was a short phase in my life -
a time of pure enchantment but also woe.
I behaved as if I were a stream, a babbling school girl
murmuring with joy for a while
as I meandered
the mountain’s pleasant aspects,
but one day my meandering came to a halt.
Coming to a cliff’s edge, I became a waterfall
frothy with madness as
I plunged
to the rocks below.
Picking myself up, I had to turn my back
to the glorious mountain.
A final look at him, and I saw the red sun sinking
into June’s cool night.
Finding my way back to the plain, I trudged.
At the mountains of madness, I’d known something -
something I had foolishly mistaken for love.
Other mountains wait there, for me, for you,
for almost anyone who desires to find one.
But since my later summer years and in my fall,
I’ve kept walking on the plain,
for it is truly, after all,
my heart land.
for the But it was not real Poetry Contest of Lewis Raynes
Categories:
meandered, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
Well....since you asked...
I'll tell you now, no run around,
my letter is found
right in the middle,
in fact it starts
the "middle" word,
so it's no riddle...
if you can spell!
It has two humps,
and they are round
They form a well...
It comes just past
the "H", the "I", the "J", and "L" ...
"M" stands for ME!
"M" is the one that fits me best
It makes me munch on little things...
I'm known for liking M' and M's!
And mistletoe, and midnight strolls
And M's are known for loving food (mmmm!)
I'm also known to multi-task!
And bask in all my memories!
I'm Mrs. Mom, and love the madness...
(the mobs who make this place a mess! )
I'm a mental case...just ask my man!
Not meddlesome, and rarely mute
When I get mushy, he thinks it's cute!
I'm moody too...and sometimes mad!
But mostly mellow is my mantra !
Morning is my time of day...
But moonlight, too, can make me swoon
I'm filled with mirth, and mischief too
I've meandered with misfortune's moods
But I'm mindful of the miracles
I love good movies, and music too!!
Will marvel at a magic view
I can mend a fence, and mentor you
And hope to keep my muse in tune
I'll share my M' and M's with you
So,... won't you share your Q's ?!!!
______________________________________________
Inspired By Nancy's Alphabet Soup Contest
Categories:
meandered, life, me, love, me,
Form:
Rhyme
With her first words she mesmerized his soul,
Of rose water and lavender was her aroma,
Her tip tap of her fairy tale walk was majestic,
A woman of status still in her prime of depth and note,
Wisps of red-hot curls, floating out of control adding
To her appeal, a magnetic touch to the usual
Variety of husband seeking maidens at the ball.
He hurriedly asked her for the opening dance,
She accepted and gracefully took his hand,
He first tested the waters, like a ballerina she danced,
Sadly, the music stopped for an interval, and
So led her back, as her deep smiling hazel brown eyes
Played with his, quizzically asking if she would see him
Again, he bowed and loudly voiced ‘my lady, the next dance
Is mine.’ it was a sweltering July night, she curtsied, and
Walked outside to the patio, attracting every man's attention.
Lord Kingsworth was from Somerset and, the Duchess of York
From Yorkshire, they made a striking couple as they swayed,
Laughed and whirled all night on the dance floor, infatuation
Had certainly crept upon them and the gossip column in
Tomorrow’s Country Times would certainly talk of this romance
And definitely would not let such a juicy piece of scandal escape them.
Lord Edward Kingsworth invited Helen, the duchess of York to a picnic,
Helen, charmingly smiled and accepted, Edward would pick her
Up with his carriage at eleven o`clock the following morning.
He had made up his mind he would ask Helen to become
Betrothed to him, who should he ask for her hand in marriage,
Her eldest brother she explained, as her father had died last
Year of tuberculosis and so it came to pass that after
An engagement of one year which held many ardent nights
And many picnic loving days by the river, which meandered
Close by them, always hurriedly stripping and unashamedly
And joyfully, enjoying the cool water, deliciously naked, finally
Became husband and wife at the beautiful York Cathedral.
What a happy couple they were, and blessed with three
Beautiful little girls who all had their mother’s unruly red hair.
Categories:
meandered, marriage,
Form:
Narrative
The Hidden Nature Trail
While I was hiking one soft summer morn
beside a streamlet flowing through a dale,
I found a narrow nestled path unworn
which led me down a hidden nature trail.
I walked amongst the pine trees standing tall
along the hidden trail their shadows cast;
I heard a song bird chirp his mating call,
and reminisced sweet moments from my past.
The hidden path meandered far and near
and ended by a pond of sapphire blue
with splashing birds and water crystal clear,
and sirens bathing in the morning dew.
I wonder was this but a reverie,
or is it just my secret fantasy?
November 24, 2023
Categories:
meandered, dream, fantasy, nature,
Form:
Sonnet
In a moment of magic I once gave her a juicy innocent peach
Not yet knowing that she harboured a sweet nascent dream
In which as a youngster she knew that she would marry the one
Who handed such a fleshy gift to the gypsy Queen of Fairy Land
Bestowed upon her by night’s prophesy she carried the vision of
Requited love and blissful peace brought by subconscious longing
And spiritual clarity of a Higher Power submerged in compassion
A passionate fruit with soft skin and one huge seed of togetherness
We eloped together into a new dawn
The doomsayers had a field day as they harvested bitter doubts
‘It will only last a couple of months and the peach will turn rotten’
‘You cannot feed on clairvoyant oracles and meek pagan beliefs’
‘They are deluded insane and caught up in misguided romance’
They called her a witch a seductress and labelled me irresponsible
With so much at stake painted pictures of broomsticks and failure
While we had found the jewel in a haystack without even searching
And set fire to the past as we danced naked around a fire of passion
We knew the truth of intuitive feeling
One can never be sure what lies at the end of paths never taken
Whether road blocks and diversions belittle emotions and faith
But they who ignore heavenly signs forfeit adventure and truth
Stay stuck in spent time and hail its dubious comfort at their peril
We travelled and found a small hut on the beach out of sight
Collected starfish and driftwood and caressed wounded souls
Carved wedding bands out of sea shells and called upon dolphins
To witness our marriage surfing along happily ever since then
A cormorant applauded the feast
Under a star studded canopy on the miraculous shore of belonging
We never strayed from what intuition and feelings offered for free
Meandered on the shoreline and set our sails into a magical ocean
Tasted the salt of a mindful earth and soothed our recovering minds
Never questioned the wisdom of our union shared by hungry souls
Treasure pleasure and joy weathered powerful storms and all tides
The cosmos donates all we ever need once we are willing to navigate
Waves and effervescence sparkling desire and in our case a peach
Leading the universal way
13th May 2020
Categories:
meandered, beach,
Form:
Free verse
The fire logs glow, flickering to and fro
in her eyes he sees champagne dreams of love
the soft adagio plays a velvet tune of jazzing blow
right atop the hearth, she's fitted like a glove
Red hair flaming, ruby lips untamed her rubicon
a blush, acclaims her cheeks await the dawn;
Each dancer holds on cue precaution to the wind
style and grace in every move "amour est bleue"
with burning eyes of here, go rescind ,
a love is built on arcs of passion's queue;
Scarlet thoughts roseate skin enflamed a marathon
of amoureuse, bending arching longing one on one ;
Her hair a crayon colored Autumn proffers romance
and all the philharmonic musings of a lovely dream
together they loop meandered agile as a water dance
rushing towards each other skin to skin seam to seam ;
Wine colored kisses taking in a world of bless
garnet hearts of shine never to confess
they once lay dormant in the crook of night
now fired, ready to ignite....
Contest Name: SEASONAL OR UNSEASONAL
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
October 22, 2018
Categories:
meandered, romantic love,
Form:
Rhyme
~
I wandered about her
winding words
and whispered wishes,
strolled between her
somber stanzas and
passionate phrases,
lingered in her drifting
sunsets of amethyst skies,
meandered beneath her
clouded days and
sunrise kisses,
while walking through
each wonderful world
her thoughts had created
until I found myself
desperately lost…
which was my hope
all along
~
Categories:
meandered, poetess, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
It stood on the top of the hill
dominating all of its surrounds.
Its drawbridge these days lay open
spanning with ease the now dry moat.
Like a fairy tale fortress it had turrets
that soared up high brushing the clouds.
Its four towers majestic as blankly,
they stared, covering all points of the compass.
Slit windows peered out of casements
through walls up to six feet thick.
The massive double oak doors
fifteen feet high and twelve wide
stood thrown open allowing glimpses
of the enormous courtyard beyond.
Battlements led to each round tower
that once housed the nobles.
Old battered forgotten furniture
grandly carved four poster beds.
A sword or two lay scattered
amidst the clutter and bird dropping.
Wide stone staircases meandered
curling round and round the walls.
A gallery or two dotted here and there
perfect hiding places above the hall.
Some for musicians to play unseen
Their notes floating through the air
as below the dancers swept and strutted
as the ladies hooped dresses swirled.
Long tables once laden with food
stood a skiff with broken legs.
Wooden pint tankards higgledy piggledy
strewn about midst wooden platters.
Tattered standards limply lay motionless
against walls dotted with scattered torches.
The Lord of these lands killed in distant lands
leaving an infant son removed to the city
by his grieving mother who sought to forget.
Now ninety years later his grandson views
the devastation of years of neglect and vows
to return the castle to the glory of its heydays.
After three long years of often brutal work
removing shrubbery, moss and decay
Life starts to re-emerge Flags flutter
gaily high up on the battlements.
Chandeliers sparkle and the torches flicker
Tables once more groan with a feast of food
Happy shrieks of laughter fill the grand hall
And one would swear the castle wore a smile,
as children played around the buttress's.
Categories:
meandered, fantasy, grandson, imagery,
Form:
Epic
He meandered lonely
just a senior citizen
trawling the pathways of his computer,
when suddenly one day in a flash
an enchanting name jumped from the screen
into his unadjusted head,
whilst still in a daze
he had cut copied and pasted,
the delete key not an option
when sent to his favourites.
Then like magic, poetry began to appear
every single day a new poem would emerge
all written in a familiar dialect,
to begin with down to earth
raw unadulterated poetry
the kind that attaches itself to one’s mind
bores in to the head, rattles around
then lays awhile
then keeps coming on back, over and over again.
Poetry that penetrates, like an arrow,
pierces the heart, tends to linger
deep in one’s consciousness
disarming the most vehement of thought,
poetry that creates calmness
making one at ease, especially one
old with age and recipient of an endowment of excruciating pain!
Soon the poetry began to blossom
as all creations do
in the springtime of their lives,
the purity of Wild flowers, colours of the rainbow
free to sway within the gentle breeze,
soon each daily dose of verse begins to transpire
into carpets of lavender
upon the woodland stage, cascading Bluebells of joy,
the epitome of beauty unfolding
before one’s very eyes.
Again the poetry continues to consolidate,
poems of form formularized those conceived of
the Peace Lillie so sensuous in shape
so assuring in grace, a hard life the Lillie endures
yet one, only of positivity etched into each stanza
of bold narration for all to peruse!
Then a transformation
to the Rose, the very sense of beauty,
when with words of wrought
thy language comforting long into the night
to ease each day a journey of plight,
yet for you sweet Rose
thy poetry, it is not at an end
when to the Orchid you graciously ascend!
Many are those that come and admire
the wonders of your beauty those words on fire,
yet some desire more
with cunning and subtlety
those to manipulate to control
for one’s own ends.
But the Orchid remains safe
suffers no fool,
nurtured in extreme climates
is strong and worldly wise,
the poetry just keeps on coming,
flowing like tears of joy,
from an eye of one who’s happiness
is assured every single day!
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Categories:
meandered, dedication, day, words, beauty,
Form:
Free verse