Best Mulled Poems
Mister Joe, poet, jangles loose change in his pocket,
Jogging memories and garnering thoughts as he walks.
For Mr. Joe's brain washes, tumbles and dries,
his gems of thoughts in hourly cycles, with riddles, jingles and rhymes.
Each wash-up, extracted, pegged, and hung up to dry,
To taunt and flap jangles for him, his readers and strangers near by.
Mister Joe's charm icons are processed, mulled over, distilled and wrung out for meaning within.
His jangles find meaning in bumps on smooth paper, read as Braille.
His jangles arise from stones skipped over calm smooth waters,
yielding meaning in the creases and ripples created.
His jangles rattle his sleep awake each night, with sky rockets of images and flashes bursting.
His jangles are a empowering, rewarding, revealing, enlightening,
and sometimes troubling and haunting, but can't be undone.
His jangles are his rhyme and reason, his friend and confidant, his mater and aether
His jangles are really what he's all about as a poet,
as a miner and peddler of ideas, and as a prophet and revealer.
Mister Joe's charms jangles the minds of his readers
His words cast nets to trawl up memories and concepts,
lured within the reader's mind with word play and twists.
Seas of dreams and memories are netted, prodded and poked
To yield twinkles, sparkles, hums, grunts, and nods of appreciation and delight.
His jangles finding meaning and echoes with links and associations, never before conceived nor considered.
Mister Joe's catch of memories once jangled, are returned to reader with care
Embellished and enthralled by meaning, relevance, word play and twists.
The reader now has new jangles to add to charm bracelet on wrist, or to jingle with loose change in pocket.
Mister Joe, the poet, and his reader, now walk and dance with jangles, jingling echoes within.
Today, I felt the cooling breath of Autumn's morning mist
and my cheeks wore a blush of pink as if I had been kissed
The season is a time of bejeweled scenery across the lands
When Summer sleeps and Autumn lies in Nature's hands
Its gentle winds rustle through a grove of sugar maple trees
Perhaps it's sharing secrets it heard drifting across the seas
Autumn sings a lament as leaves tumble in shades of gold
With a palette of paints brushed on canvas, bright and bold
Its breath lingers across ripened orchards and wildflower fields
Where Summer's harvested crops have given up their yields
Fall carries along with it, the pungent aroma of spicey scent
cinnamon, cloves, and citrus of mulled wine, still in ferment
Autumn's enchantment holds me totally enrapt and spellbound
I hear flocks of migratory birds in flight and their anxious sounds
Over Fall's foggy moonlit field, comes the cry of a roosting loon
Cooing songs to his mate beneath the shine of a harvest moon
With every breath I inhale of Fall, I praise my Creator with elation
Blue skies or clouds of grey, I marvel at Autumn with admiration
Softly, I whispered my name to the wind on this morning's walk
and heard it repeated in distant echoes as if Autumn could talk
Let me take you by the hand,
to St.Albans Abbey.
At the far end of the lantern- lit cobbled alley.
There's the Pines and Needles Christmas market,
and a magic garden .
Yuletide trees and Holly Wreaths,
A festive foliage with plenty of treats.
Mixed spiced scents of boiled apples' fruit cider,
A wafting aroma of roasted chestnuts fill the air,
Savoured sweetness of hot red mulled wine
A Christmas Spirit,A Midnight Hymn.
Sizzling sausages on this night of bliss
Beneath a mistletoe, a chocolate-dipped shared kiss.
In each stall, sixty in all,
Hand-made decorations carved on a wooden floor.
A Jesus'Grotto , a reindeer,and santa clause.
Wrought-iron boxes, "Put in a penny
for a good cause."
A carousel, and a merry-go-round,
A giant tea-cup, a trumpeter's sound.
Children singing carols by candlelight ,
in the loggia gallery,a star shines bright.
Skates on ice, a paradise .
Dancing in the late rain,
wearing a hundred smiles.
In the oldest British pub
as the fire dies , last embers glow,
Cheeks touch,lips brush,
The winds softly blow on St.Alban's winter snow.
Now, each day poses limitless opportunities for stress and strain -
New directions, new pains, new worries, brand-new doors open
Before older squeaky ones have closed, yesterday's problems
Had been mulled over, firmly grasped, solved, and cast aside.
Stanza from "Perspective on Time Passing"
for "Liberum Divisa" poetry contest
sponsored by Gregory Richard Barden
Poetry Soup Poem of the Day
May 28, 2021
#70 on Poetry Soup Best New Poems
June 1, 2021
Dinner at eight
Winter soup and roast
both ready
A candle lit
table for two
An empty vase
without any flowers
My welcome carpet
awaiting you
Slow cooked mulled wine
fills the hallway
with an aromatic scent
of cinnamon and spice
The fire's embers glowing
a sparkle in my eyes.
Clothes, all the best I tried
Wanting to be perfect
when he gets by my side.
Needing to impress
I put on my make up
a sweetened perfume
and a strapless red dress.
I let my hair cascade
whilst thinking of my date
wondering if one can fall in young love
again
Am i not too old?
isn't it too late?
I walked down the stairs
and dimmed the light
Put on some soft jazzy music
and waited the night
Ready since four
Showered and shaved
Splashed on some Acqua Di Gio
Freshly pressed pants
Midnight blue polo shirt
Listening to some love songs
practicing my best dance moves
singing along
why does waiting take so long?
Thinking about tonight
My heart beats stronger
What will I say?
Will we embrace?
Will you ask me to stay?
Eight o'clock sharp
I walk up to your door
palms sweaty
throat dry
holding my breath
and a single red rose
slowly the door opens
our eyes meet
you smile
inviting me in
I opened up my cupboard door and then I opened wider,
Dwelling cozily inside, a most humongous spider.
I do not kill a spider, that’s against this gardener’s rule,
But I don’t pick up a spider, I am truly not a fool.
I closed the cupboard saying, “I’ll wait with you to deal
For tomorrow or the next day, depending how I feel.”
I went to work next morning without removing arachnoid.
I don’t know if I forgot or just was trying to avoid.
For in truth I don’t like spiders though she is a gardener’s friend,
But I’ll defend her right to live her span, right to the very end.
All day I mulled my problem, how I’d trap her and release her.
I knew I must be careful, if I was clumsy I’d decease her.
That evening I looked for her, but she wasn’t where she’d been,
And to me an unseen spider is much worse than one that’s seen.
Then my darling son informed he’d been looking for a cookie
And had found the big old spider hiding in its little nookie.
He remembered what I taught him, that a spider is our friend.
He had carried her to the garden, the rest of her life to spend.
Written May 26, 2003
pumpkin spice coffee
or mulled hot apple cider
october magic
pecan pie muffins
cinnamon hot chocolate
as the red leaves fall
white november days
eggnog in the afternoon
sledding at twilight
december teatime
a fruitcake on the table
and cardinals sing
Stopping by early, soon it will be Christmas Day,
Shiny gifts, inviting bows, ‘neath the tree do lay,
Hot, mulled apple cider in red glass, deer mugs.
Magnificent family with endless,warm, love hugs!
Roast beef, just glowing with luscious juice.
Sad absence of cousins, Maggie and Bruce!
The peace and love that fills the pine scented room.
Wish all days, were like this, the absence of gloom!
Merry Christmas poets and love to one and all!
This is your early eight week, wake up call!
10/25/2024
Love and hugs to all, in those busy, fun weeks ahead.
~ PANGIE~
"Odd Lovers"
I feel your reign o’er my warm skin
your eyes cast their burning cerebral majesty
sharp diamonds cool blue sky twinning rays
the same time dawn and dusk glistening towards me
like the rapturous Sun in debate with boiling Ocean
I am Queen’s Land, nubile and unconquered
a spent sugar cane field arrested in your glowing fire
laid out like a Sunday service gone wrong and come undone
taken up like a god’s bride eager to please and smiling
in your riotous crackling laughter, some kindness, this untamed desire
jade green ignites into crystalline
I am all the wild animals
running ruinous out into open and now seen
hear my wanton cries
uncovered in soft spun blankets of dark night
I am the Moon glowing opallious and high-pearled
rising to meet your fevered and hungry molten lava kiss
drowning in waves of some scorching small death redemption
I bite eagerly with wet lips your brief eclipse
there is the taste of bittersweet candy
slowly mulled and fermented like fine mead
honey drunk deliberate and heady
for a short story time goes slowly
there is the taste of fire in the sharing of a missed moment
merging dimensions in fragile silky gossamer webbed dreams
I bite eagerly with wet lips your brief eclipse
there is the taste of bittersweet candy
made from our odd lover’s kiss
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
"Moon and Moon" (Two Suns) / Bat for Lashes
https://youtu.be/hMzua0mwrVk
LYRICS/"Moon and Moon" (Two Suns) / Bat for Lashes
https://genius.com/Bat-for-lashes-moon-and-moon-lyrics
The German Christmas market was in town
Stalls emptying fast and looking quite bare
Last minute shopping before it closed down
T'was Christmas eve seems everyone was there .
A cold wind blew with flakes of snow falling
Kids in the square, carols they were singing
In the distance the church bells were ringing
On market stalls the lights they were twinkling.
The tree in the square with a star so bright
Folks drinking mulled wine to keep out the chill
The Oompah band were playing silent night
And everywhere smiles, laughter and good will.
T'would be wonderful if all this good cheer
Was every day and not just once a year.
Written 26th November 2019.
Sated with savor sown in a summer past
musings are mulled with soft cider flavor
whilst caramel leaves harvest eve’s rose hip rays —
and like the wild asters
wearing the flame and fade of twilight hues
I moon ‘neath Orion’s garden
midst stars falling from comet’s bloom
Susan Ashley
October 5, 2019
Poet’s note: the Orionid meteor showers, considered to be one of the most beautiful showers of the year, peaks in mid-October and are caused by debris from Halley’s comet. Each time the famous comet passes around the Sun, it leaves in its wake a trail of cosmic dust and grit along its orbit (shooting/falling stars). The Orionids are so-called because the point from which they appear to originate, called the radiant, lies in the constellation Orion, but they can be seen over a large area of the sky.
She was Rachel, beautiful as her name and in all ways.
In innocence, caught up in “grown up, worldly things
Folks who knew her laughed it off took is as if a joke
At a loss to grasp the deeper meaning behind it all
Her parents were alarmed and sought to reinforce their rules
But it seemed it was too late to remedy this state
It’s so hard to understand how this change came about
One moment she was their baby, the next, a stranger in their midst
This tragedy could not have been any part of God’s plan
Lost, running away, leaving behind comfort and warmth
She, instead would hitch-hike her way to live as a stray
Rachel and her friends never envisioned the many dangers
For lack of better judgment, with her life she would pay
He seemed like an average “Joe”, wearing a jacket of softest leather
She thought, ‘He’s hot and dressed fine; no way could he be whack’
Inexperience and temperament silently urged her on
Repressed anger held fast as she played a game of dice
She’d been waiting at the gas station just off Route Seventy Seven
Many hours past, as she mulled over random thoughts
Cold, tired and hungry, it was getting late as panic took a seat
Contn'd Pg. 2
Mulled Cider
M-is for Merry Christmas.
U-is for unforgettable lights!
L-is for lullabies to the Christ
L-is to laughter with those you love
E-is the heady fragrance of evergreens
D-is for decorations, so divine
C-is for the carols we happily sing
I-is for the infant, Jesus, our King
D-is for December,snow on the ground
E-is for embraces with our family
R-if for revering and remembering
December 15, 2019
It is the longest night.
We tread gently through the wood,
Feather moss and beech leaves
Amber soft under foot
Dampen and muffle the rustle of our winter coats.
There's a snap of the twig
And a flutter of woodpigeons lift,
As if applauding the return of the sun.
We watched them fly
Through the crackled glaze of bare branches -
“As our lanterns burn bright,
Our feet seek safe ground.”
We bow low to the Holly,
King of the winter,
Bejewelled with berries and crowned in thorns,
Hosting a chiming of wrens,
Who herald our journeying
In bursts of sing-song -
“Fa-la-la-la-la!”
Onward through the valley
We step into the footprints of darklings,
Deer, fox and badger.
Cross pilgrim paths where flints glint,
As if iridescent tiny tombstones
For the butterflies and dragonflies of summers long passed.
“Our lanterns shine bright,
Our feet find safe ground,
We walk without fear
In the dark all around.”
At the heart of the wood
We gather near the great oak,
And together we light a fire.
Watch as ribbons of flame
Caught from flashes of sparks,
Illuminate our faces in the cinder glow of midwinter.
Alongside us, pixie-cup lichens wassail a promise of spring
An oath as unbreakable as our human cups of plastic and tin.
With mulled apples, honeyed and spiced
We welcome light in.
Feast upon pastries of fruits in a marzipan of delights.
Feeling blessed with good cheer,
We start the new year.
Driving home in the car,
From the road I see stars of wonder.
I see trees a-glisten with tinsel.
Windows lit golden under twinkling eaves.
I am sure I can hear, and the wind whispers, “listen”
As I opened the door,
An echo once more, held soft in the still of night –
“May your light shine bright,
May your feet walk safe ground,
May you seek without fear,
May you like what you found.
Stay near to each other,
Offer comfort and cheer,
Come back to the woods,
Each solstice, each year.”
Cold spell
Wrap well.
Bare trees
No leaves.
Snow storms
Ice forms.
Blizzard
Hazard.
Cold toes
I'm froze.
On snow
Drive slow.
Black ice
Think twice.
Don't roam
Stay home.
Mulled wine
Divine.
Downhill
Ski thrill.
Sky Grey
Dark day.
On sleigh
Kids play.
White snow
Bright glow.
Springs near
Big cheer.