Best Midmorning Poems
Out where the blooming path comes to an end,
Along with wildflowers and Queen Anne's Lace,
A white sandy beach is waiting in the sunshine,
With a house so inviting at the day's primetime.
Seagulls are swooping and diving so endlessly,
Like the turquoise waves that come crashing in,
Before rushing back out to wild fathomless sea!
At the end of the beginning of gold midmorning,
It is noontime in the silent house of the sun.
Red butterflies are flittering on a soft breeze,
And the bees have begun their quest for honey.
Blooms yellow orange and red sit upon the porch,
As if somehow lit up, by the sun's flaming torch!
Hyacinth and juniper
adorned in midmorning dew
alight the fields and meadow fair
as the dawn shimmers from you
Nature weeps with boundless joy
as the sun greets you with its morn
for you are as beautiful as the morning sky
from God's good grace you had to be born
No twinkling star up in heaven cries
as much for you as do I
to be near you would be such bliss
that angels would shudder and sigh
O' of all the gifts that are thrust upon this world
none so pure and delicate can be
as such pure and delicate as she
for you are my light and my world
A Renga:
Midmorning sunlight
White roses climbing the fence
Next to the driveway
On a Saturday in May
A rooster pecks at the ground
"It's in the details,"
The lawyer looks at the case,
Sifting evidence
Of geological time
Displayed on the canyon walls
Snow on the ledges
Shadows rapidly lengthen
As days quickly pass
Her daughter is a stranger
With friends and views of her own
Light from the stained glass window
And candles of remembrance
Mingling with the sharp incense
And the sound of falling leaves
Rolling down the street
On his well-dented skateboard
Jumpng the high curb
Busy shoppers holding bags
Purchases from here and there
Moonlight can't compete
With the glow of the city
Or the internet
This is their first face to face
They first met in cyberspace
What will people read
From the books published today
Centuries from now?
"It really doesn't matter.
I know you didn't mean it."
The afternoon heat
Makes it hard to concentrate,
To apologize
At the fountain by the store
In the city's public square
There's a rainbow in the air
Between clouds of gray and white
Six blue jays converge at the birch
To sing their anomalous colloquial song,
They fashion a serene scene as they perch;
My mind so inclined to blindly sing along.
As I ponder their ways, in my midmorning daze;
I recall a tale my grandmother told—
Of a desolate day through a dishwashing gaze;
A heinous sight she was doomed to behold.
Through her window; across the drive,
On the very top of some man-made pole,
A sinless and beautiful robin arrived;
Assembled a nest and called it her home.
She laid some eggs at the edge of spring,
And by summer they joined the day,
She taught her young about everything
For the time that comes when they should stray.
But then one day while mother was out
Collecting a feast for the rest of her nest,
A single blue jay swooped in for a bout—
Snipped off their heads and left.
Mother came back to the horrid mess;
The tragically pointless abhorrent wreck,
And with frantic confusion and great distress
She flew into the window and broke her neck.
So as I stare in the garden today;
And view such a seemingly innocent sight,
Behind the charm of those six blue jays
Could possibly rein six times the fright.
From the pack on his back,
He pulled a brown paper sack,
And sat down in the shade of a tree.
Then Jack, from the sack,
Took his midmorning snack,
And quickly devoured it, one-two-three.
As lonely sighs drift across the mountaintops
Mists linger ‘til midmorning, caressing trees
It's evident that the temperature slowly drops,
For a chill is accompanying the August breeze.
Slight hints of color nestle in along the crown
As lonely sighs drift across the mountaintops
A few leaves, growing tired, are drifting down
For autumn leans heavily on August’s props.
Predicting summer’s sodden humid day’s sops
We can enjoy hints of coming autumn’s glamor
As lonely sighs drift across the mountaintops
They call to mind the end of summer’s clamor.
Be still and you can hear echoes of September
Chants of “the hills are alive” music never stops,
The lovely days of August, always to remember
As lonely sighs drift across the mountaintops.
Written August 11, 2022
Down on the pier, the midmorning bright,
Thronged wives, husbands, lovers,
And sons, friends, young daughters,
All eyes perusing the grand and gray ship
In long-simmered hope of glimpsing one face,
One much-beloved grin, among antsy sailors
Arrayed in white jumpers along the tall deck,
‘Til, filing like ants, crew at last disembarked:
A long, gangling line descended the gangway,
Dispersed and filtered, absorbed by the crowd,
One young and trim yeoman elbowing through,
Enfolding his wife—petite, trembling gal—
Into long, lanky arms, her buxom breast pressing,
Squeezing tight to his chest
And stoking, thereby, his half-a-year’s yearning
To hold and be kissed,
To kiss once again this doll from high school—
And the assemblage transformed
By thinning and ebbing away from the pier,
While that sailor still kissed, hugged his wife tight,
Past months dissolving, by love overwhelmed,
‘Til, still holding close, they silently strolled
Relieved he’d returned—
He’d come home to his wife.
My story begins in a fire, not the fire that burns and chars,
but a cold fire of depression, hotter than the sun beneath the equator
I lingered in limbo, devastated by the events about me
and then she appeared!
her face shone like the midmorning sun upon fields of gold,
her soul beyond the grasp of the fiery flames
should I tell you about her touch? Ah!
she will be my deliverer; my goddess of fortune and bliss,
the mirror of all my thoughts and the keeper of all my hopes
her name... PERPETUAL!
but this is not the real story, as a matter of fact this is not the story at all...
pallid firmament
is the midmorning setting
in the blue gray sky
2-12-2016
“What was I thinking? I lost track of time.”
Running to the seaside home before the clock is nine
The water cooling from the heat of summer
Her feet are numb from the cool temperatures that plunder
Across the waters, towards the house she glides
Beating the forceful midmorning tides
Ah but, she’s an apparition lingering in my time
The curtain that draws memories closed is a fine-line
Will she be noticed past my prime?
She waved! She said goodbye, then blew a kiss!
Looking at the beach, in memories, I will reminisce.
Who was she? What was her story?
Oh, perhaps it was for love, aw perhaps for my glory.
I will never know, perhaps, she knows already?
Patience is why I'm still here,
And of course you my dear.
You watch over me and help steer,
Me away from what was so near.
You did it without any words spoken,
I just had to look into your eyes,
And I knew how much you cared,
All done when I was so damn broken.
I just got you to smile,
And I knew right then I can make you happy,
A grin so big you looked like you could run 800 miles,
And be here beside me making the wait worthwhile.
I just got to hear I love you,
And I knew right then I had your heart,
Never thought you would steal mine, but its true,
Each minute passes & hoping a call comes on cue.
I just got to see you cry,
And I knew right then how important I was to my baby,
When I told you I was considering the military, there was no reply,
Not a word was said until a tear came from your eye.
I just got to see all the things said about me,
And I knew right then I was on your mind,
Well so were you and I can guarantee,
So were pictures of your beautiful face that I see.
I just got a call from you at 3 in the morning,
And I knew right then you didn't care about waking me,
I don't either cause I wanna hear your voice without warning,
So worth it to hear I love you in the midmorning.
I just had to get your cheeks to hurt from smiling,
And I knew right then we were perfect for each other.
From there our love for each other began stock piling,
And it continues, so high now, I'll now never love another.
I just got a shot,
With the most beautiful girl in the world,
And I knew right then how lucky I really am and I cannot,
Lose her and I'm gonna do everything I can to keep it that way.
Watching the clouds travel by,
fast moving, each one a soul
I name. There's work to be done
up there, sweeping the sky clear
of sorrow, leaving unblemished
blue to lighten the load we carry.
They have been unburdened
from theirs, still care for the
absolution of the earthly.
In the morning
when the sun flash its first coysmile
behind the parting curtains of a sleepy sky
it rouse the world from harried slumber
to the roar of monstrous machines
and crawling cabs on congested streets
honking,hooting,swearing and sweating
At midmorning
its a floating disc;a kaleidoscope
of pressurized breath and hooded brows
of grumbling bowel and galling juice
of idle hand and furious fists
of infernal fingers perpetually planted in public till
of sodden spirirtin fearful breasts
and mumified citizens in merciless cities
In the evening
a dying yolk knocking feebly on western door
shorn of blistering breath and scorching strength
trudging relentlessly with burdensome dreams
quietly,golden head rests in western grave
At night
a monarch ressurects with
a retinue of chandelier stars and energetic drummers
on the throne of a sombre sky
seething with ghosts of decayed dreams
waiting impatiently for the birth of
a promising dawn
dejon 5.45am
may,2904
Autumn sky glows yellow against blue hue sky;
turns windy, rainy a long languorous day.
Swirls of fresh intoxicating aria.
midmorning showers
rootless lingering rainbow~
scent of petrichor
Outdoors allure afresh, stunning once again.
Sun kissed fragrant richer fruitful harvest fields.
Woods once rich with leaves fall round and round with wings.
quenching nature's thirst
harmonious double arch~
whole world auspicious
An evening walk to the pond a calming sense;
near the bank we saw large bear paws sunk deeply
into the mud, quietly cutting our walk short.
black bear foraging
spawning fish bantering play~
heart beats in slumber
9/7/2020
Let the Pens Flow - Haibun Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jenish Somadas
Oops!
In our backyard five apple trees abide - harvest of red, yellow, green fruit our pride
Bushels of fruit overflow from their baskets - looks like nature this year blew a gasket.
Way too many apples for us to eat - now time to share of our ripe apples sweet
So with our neighbors we’ll divvy these treats - for lunches, pies, snacks and midmorning feasts.
Just a month later - just enough for a pie a Sunday night treat as cold raindrops fly
Measure the spices then roll out the crust - bake in the oven - dessert just for us!
Oops! Tripled the flour! Now I lament - :o - as we pick out baked apples from flour cement!
True story! Instead of 3/4c of sugar I added ¾ c of flour! At least we salvaged the apples. My boys have never let me forget this gastronomic disaster! A true lesson in humility!
11-24-20
Contest: Make Me Laugh with Some Humor
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin