Best O Poems
Oh how I love you.
Cherishing each moment,
for you have opened
my heart with your
everlasting and precious
love. Yet so tender; .uoy evol I woh hO
You place God ,tnemom hcae gnihsirehC
first in your life. And denepo evah uoy rof
I love you more for that. ruoy htiw traeh ym
Hold on to the other suoicerp dna gnitsalreve
half of my heart, ;rednet os teY .evol
for one day we doG ecalp uoY
Shall put them dnA .efil ruoy ni tsrif
Together .taht rof erom uoy evol I
As one rehto eht ot no dloH
With ,traeh ym fo flah
God. ew yad eno rof
meht tup llahS
rehtegoT
eno sA
htiW
.doG
Pace, G
INK-U-SCRIPT
05-20-2012
O April
how I’ve longed for your return
to breathe new life
into this gnarled body..
for these roots to be unfettered
from the grasping earthen frost -
the past season of fanged nor’easters gnashed
me bare - leaving me mauled and dulled
alone with stiffened limbs
lifted to face
the hard glower of old man winter
with not a morsel of mercy to be gained
but April
now that you're here to share
the innocence of the daisy
and the honeyed scent of the sweet pea
I feel inspirited like a sapling young and tender again;
mild is the fog’s embrace in early morn
as I taste your sweetened rainwater
and gentle is the rhythm of baptizing
showers bathing dark days away..
and ever grateful is my grayed heart
as it begins to beat
with the fresh pulse of verdant rebirth
oh April
how easily you inspire
my shy imagination to fly
with the zephyr's muse
to expand my artistry
in an afternoon’s brushstroke of forsythia light
dreams once frozen now thawed and golden
eager to flourish in bloom
awakening the poetry
in a new leaf’s unfurling whisper -
a whisper that grows a praising wind-psalm
as choirs of bursting buds
celebrate revival
with a rustling alleluia!
star-shaped sails rouse in swishing sounds
their leafy lyrical breath one with the breeze
my green-laden boughs now a wellspring
of exuberant born-again voices
a thronging rejoice lifted
to the heavens on the whisk of the westerlies;
supple is my sweep and sway ‘neath
the soft-bellied skies of Spring
dear lady, April
how I revel in the glorious abundance of your Nature;
your nurture enlivens my humble woody being
and though gray may shade my weather-beaten heart..
evergreen is my soul
Susan Ashley
April 12, 2021
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: April
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
THE ROSE
T~hirty-two steps through the yellow-green grass led me to you.
H~aving to choose which one; my heart with no doubt chose you.
E~very rose bloomed quite differently, though nothing meretricious like you.
R~ed is known to be the favorite color to man; color blinded; my soul desired you.
O~f all the roses, my senses were captivated and comely to you.
S~ome men may pick more than one rose; but, I only want you.
E~ven mother nature so pulchritudinous can't compare to you.
Pace, G
IN-U-SCRIPT
05-06-2012
O my brother, I can see your pain.
Unlike the ignorant, I hear your screams,
yet you refuse to explain, why you're
lost in forgotten fast flowing streams,
wandering like a forgoing wave,
thinking there's blessings in an early grave.
When you can't understand the darkness,
feeling as you do not belong,
remember in our own unique weirdness,
you don't have to pretend to be headstrong
because my brother, I can see your pain.
I know it hurts, because I've been hurt too
sometimes we fall, as I've fallen too,
but you need to realise -
It's not wrong to not be strong,
so remove your daily disguise.
Stop living up to expectations
from 'out of date' generations.
It's OK not to be OK.
and I'll help you find your way.
Dad was sadly mistaken -
it's fine to cry when you feel forsaken
because my brother, I can see your pain.
If you think there's too much shame,
we'll sit in silence until you feel tame.
It's hard to say what's on your mind,
when reactions are not always kind.
Then they ignite our dynamite hearts
to make us feel as we're not worthy,
so a piece of our sanity departs
and the demons show no mercy.
It's not absurd that so many
are confused in their own little world.
It's ok to cry, so release those tears,
you are not a burden, so share your fears
because my brother, I can feel your pain.
We don't have to smile all the time,
playing the joker is now a masculine crime.
We can't live as a definition of our past,
as fate won't wait - it moves too fast.
We can only determine where we are going,
when we process what we are not showing.
We are iron monuments forged in fire,
separate but born with burning desire.
Waterfalls formed from the same rain,
flowing from different mountainous terrain.
A secret lullaby from two unheard tones,
healing from wounds cast from selfish stones
So in times of rage and feeling misunderstood,
remember the beautiful bond of brotherhood
because my brother, I can see your pain.
O season of amber tulips, of yellow daffodils,
Of grinning verdant prairies, of cheery hills,
Of giggling, burbling streams rushing to seas,
Of fragrant breeze rustling passions of trees;
How scintillating is the glance of your smile,
O grandeur of beauty, how jovial is your style!
O vibrance of growth, of avid nascent moods,
Emerging anew boasting budding attitudes,
Stimulating twigs of maple, oak, sycamore,
Preening aura of leaves now brought to fore;
How rhythmically you sway melodies of spring
Attuning to love themes, fervid robins sing.
O inspiring season, how you thrill meadow,
Reviving glee, from demise of wintry throe
As vibes of romance in mating songs tiptoe
Echoing birds’ frolic, rekindling barren knoll,
Nesting in realms memories of yore cajole,
Where chirps of hatchlings your glory extol.
O season colorful, abloom in showy flowers,
How gaily you tap-dance with April showers
Buoying ardent dreams of bees, butterflies,
Luring spirits romantic of daydreaming eyes
Fixated mirthfully on picturesque springtime
Lauding in awe of your magnificence sublime.
February 25, 2023
Placed 2nd: In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
O' Butterfly, a child, disgraced
Bewitched without a chance
Beguiled, exquisitely endowed. Frail wings held no escape
Such innocence would glaze her eyes, as gossamer might do
He wooed her far astray with words, of promised wedded bliss
Travail would kiss the purest heart,
and weigh her soul with song
~
The season blossomed, softly charmed
of spring and cultured lore
But disarmed with hope of tender leaves
of which the leaves were tongues
His arms had warmed the coldest night, no stars to right the wrongs
Tho' moon wore shadows of the sins
conceived by western codes
Her nature pure, as gentle rain, was as welcome as the sun
Expressed in humble, reverent awe,...so eloquently sung
A collector dressed in mock disguise…, without a thought or shame
forgetful of her fragile ways, he caught her by surprise
A uniform of chloroform, a smile that didn't warn
A net, he held, along with schemes, a plot to win her hand
then trapped her with a smile, a whim, a ruse of false intent
With kisses spent, upon her cheek
She flew into the bliss, with trust, a web of false retreat....
The deep abyss of love, she fell, her heart upon her sleeve
His promises, with no repent, pretense, though, never spent
Beneath the spell.....he said farewell, and kept the lies intact.
With broken wings she could not fly
Her eyes gazed out upon the seas
Her voice cried out soliloquies
But anguish left her there to die
as if to find release
Her heart impaled. The sword had won
Grief had muted midnight's tongue
while east winds echoed with her song…
In death her song lives on
________________________________________________________
Inspired by the opera "Madame Butterfly"
Sigh you wind whispering willows
Green sentinels of the ocean blue
Her feet edge no more the billows
Where canoes dock and salt sprays spew
Sigh for the loss of responsiblity
Sigh for the death of sensibility
See you not these cold, worn stones
That in their stoic composure stay
And water laps sand muted of groans
Though a mutual tenant passed away
O willows weep, for the sun is set
On my heart made barren by regret.
She lived here without pretense or grief
Scrubbing floors, clothes, pots, and pans
For pittance spent as dust in a sieve
She earned her status with her hands
And knew all the fishermen by name
Who sold her the small ones when she came.
By light of night she fed her family food
And by the faith of her soul she stood
Against fear or doubt, grace was the mood
Tears was from the smoke of cooking wood
Weep then for the lady gone in silence
And stir the stones to standard sentience
O flowers, your soul is so beautiful,
I would like to know you all,
You populate so many vast gardens,
Your silences are filled with treasures,
O flowers, I cannot name all of you,
Neither compare you,
Petunias, Magnolias, orchids,
You undo my chains with a single attraction,
O benevolent angels, you offend no one,
A rose alone in a blue vase
Change the life of a painter, or the fate of the world,
O flowers, how to end my life without loving you?
O flowers, how would my poem end
If you didn’t exist?
O glorious Autumn of melancholic
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly serene.
Bursting into the swelling copses
And invading between the
Dwindling fields:
Auburn, primrose and lilac views -
Abundant with seasons
Celebrations
That so magnificently infuse!
Glowering in simmering sunset,
And spluttering in misty dawn:
Afire with all the orbs oozing
Revelry,
That upon barkened furniture,
To thus gild - and resplendently
Adorn!
Now is the time
That dry tinkling leaves
Give musical resonance
To a breath exhaled from
A breeze...
Fanning the boughs roaring flames
That each out-stretched branch
does eagerly seize,
Fired from the eternal torch
That immortal Ceridwen tirelessly
Sought;
Whilst I hang upon evocative
Memories
That this arresting moment briefly
Caught.
Blazing with a consummate passion
Ignited from a poets grappling
Thoughts:
The Muses to this joyous splendour
Were summarily summoned
And brought;
But as elusive as the enchanting
Notes
From the intoxicating pipes of
Evasive Pan...
So as elusive the words of the
Unwritten verse
That so evade this singular man.
So burn! You gaily painted colours,
Within abandoned restrain,
Your dizzying carousel
A whirling kaleidoscope
Upon an artists ever changing frame.
Soft ochres and dappled browns
Mixed with vivid orange and crimson
Red...
Applied lavishly from the palette
Of Artemis
Over which the vibrant pastes
Are thinly spread.
A riot of pastel shades
All exploding forth -
With the raging power of a
Supernova
Of an immense, dazzling force!
All hail to the almighty:
From the devout to the Divine...
And all hail to the Grandeur
And Majesty -
Of his awe-inspiring design!
Lantern of the Shadowed Glade
In shadowed glades where spirits dwell,
Beneath the boughs of an ancient spell.
A pumpkin awaits, its fate foretold,
By tomes of old and tales untold.
Carved with care by children’s hands,
A toothy grin upon its face expands.
Yet, within those haunting, hollowed eyes,
Lies a deeper truth in dark disguise.
On Halloween, beneath pewter beams,
Wailing winds weave ominous screams,
The Jack-o’-lantern’s gaze ignites,
On ghoulish forms lurking in the night.
He sees the village, veiled in fear,
In costumes worn, yet souls austere,
For lurking ’neath the festive guise,
A darkness deep, where evil lies.
Children laugh with voices bright,
While shadows waltz in ghostly light,
Sinister secrets, whispers heard,
Carried on the wings of a devil bird.
But deeper still, the pumpkin knows,
The ancient lore, the forest’s throes,
For spirits rise on this cursed night,
To dance beneath the pale moonlight.
In solemn vigil, silent, and grim,
The gourd watches, a veil so thin,
‘Twixt shadowed realms of dark and light,
A sentinel of the Styx, in eternal night.
When dawn breaks o’er the ghastly glade,
The pumpkin’s light begins to fade,
In its heart, an ember of infernal lore,
A demonic lantern, cursed forevermore.
O' Shadow, This Soul Dares To Ask Of Thee
O'
shadow,
pray tell more
before midnight clock scores
and in its echoes lays to waste
souls yearning for life's sweeter taste
hearts pining to youth and romance's deep appeal
not those never ending sorrows from which this dark world steals.
O'
shadow,
do not delay
truth I thee pray
of dark clouds spinning now
about life, love and black ship's prow
shorelines weeping loud and in hot red-spit flames
pleadings from ravenous and ghastly pits, savage accursed games.
O'
shadow,
do not deny
terror and the why
your master in secret demands
death and pains grow upon bloody hands
as it tempts we of earth and sad mortal breath
through our desires even until our woeful and weeping sad deaths.
O'
shadow,
do these pains explain
waves of loss, life's stains
storms born from Hade's deep dark abyss
ravaging through our world as truth we dismiss
I beg do not laugh at crying heart and turn to flee
nor attempt to utterly destroy, small light flickering within me.
O'
shadow,
fear not its wrath
nor losing way in its dark paths
speak to me, let truth thy lost heart save
as wisdom dictates, hope rewards heroes truly brave
listen as grieving heart asks for this needed reprieve
and sets about sweetest of divine mercies, saving both you and me.
Robert J. Lindley, 7-14-2019
Rhyme, ( What The Shadow May Know But Never Dare To Tell )
Painting dream-scapes upon canvas of vermilion skies,
O, time! how you elevate my dawn in periwinkle sunrise,
As day’s footprints, glistening amber tapestries rise,
When rhythms of birds, with musical winds harmonize.
O, immortal aura of time! has anyone ever seen you?
Spectacular at birth: wasn’t the big-bang your debut?
What your omnipresence looks like, I have nary a clue,
Ruling my existence, as seamlessly you pass through.
Mockery of love you make, fading it over your domain,
Hurting hearts once enamored, feeling pain of your reign,
O, time! you changed me~ who I was, I’m not the same,
Robbing my vigor as I age, sadly my exuberance you tame.
You transform themes of now, into dreams of morrow,
Planting seeds of hope, healing my wounds of sorrow,
As through your wintry woes rise, avid spring meadows,
Shining motifs of today, glinting yesterday’s shadows.
Moments you take, as earth rotates, turning into days,
Yearning for infinity as you traverse into eternal haze;
Audaciously presupposing your empire shall never end,
As ceaselessly through heaven and earth you transcend.
O holy night when Christ was born,
And in a manger laid;
What love decreed that God should be
The child of a maid?
O holy night the inn was full,
A stable near at hand;
O night of prophecies fulfilled
When Caesar taxed the land.
O holy night the shepherds watched
Their flocks upon the field,
And, lo, the angel of the Lord
With glory was revealed.
"Fear not, behold, I bring to you
Good tidings full of joy;
For unto you is born this day
A Saviour as a boy."
Then suddenly the sky was lit
By angels filled with mirth,
Proclaiming glory unto God
And peace to all the earth.
The shepherds said among themselves,
"To Bethlehem we'll go;
For something great is come to pass
And this we wish to know."
They came and found the newborn babe
With Joseph and his bride;
When they had seen, this news they spread
Throughout the countryside,
And all that heard did wonder great
At things the shepherds told;
But Mary pondered all these things
Within her heart of gold.
O holy night when God was praised,
O night when hope returned;
O night when angels spake aloud
And skies with glory burned:
O holy night when Christ was born,
And in a manger laid;
What love decreed that God should be
The child of a maid?
~ Based on Luke 2:7-20 ~
~Written for "Here We Go A Caroling".~
~~
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
My heart shrivels dry, blackened rose in bitter anguish, ...
Do you feel my pain?
Why must the flame of day dwindle dim?
O' fortune, like the moon, changeable, waxing and waning
Oppressing me, first with power's soothing stroke
To take it all away!
Poverty of my spirit lies in love's immortal wake
Why fate of fortune, cruel regard, forsaken me?
Vain, and shadowed, I waver between the balance
Such agony is mine!
Day and night, everything defies me?
Great is my grief!
One cure, escape me from the throes of my misery !!
I beg, the Gods... hear my wail, hear my plea
Would fate be cured by kiss, one look, one sign, devotion? !
This wretchedness is black, I taste bitter ash!
Keep dark night hidden in the depth of your heart, o' moon !!
I am like a leaf, played with by the wind
I am like a light hovering bird, chains cannot bind me !!
Salvation comes with desire, one touch
Do not turn the eyes away...!
I cannot be shamed!
Torment me not, o' heartless moon!!
Wheel of fortune spins my heart...I beg to win love's prize !!
Without it, I will bemoan the wounds of fortune with weeping eyes
.... and I am cursed as I fall from the peak of glory....
into the depths of the valley of despair !!
________________________________________
protogothic entry: for Amy's Contest:
________________________________________
Inspired by the classical music, "Carmina Burana"
A cantata, written between l935-36 by German composer Carl Orff.
This passionate work was based on ancient poems hand-scribed in Latin...these parchment
manuscripts discovered in a Bavarian monastery in l803. They were believed to have been
written by students of the clergy (monks) sometime during the 11-13th century.
This familiar music has been used in numerous film scores..quite dramatic and powerful