Best Pageants Poems
Let's celebrate Lei day today
In pageants with a King and Queen
In flowers of each island's hue
A day in which we extol spring.
A day of Aloha's spirit
Where music's shared in hula dance.
Children wear each island's colors
In long satin gowns that enhance
The royal court displayed in schools
That's honored the Hawaiian way.
Let us not forget the May pole
Of other lands on our Lei day.
Take this garland of sweet flowers
Please wear it 'round your neck with pride.
Let us capture the Aloha spirit
Of love in which we all abide.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Happy May Day and Lei Day to everyone!
Note: On May first...May Day is known in Hawaii as
Lei Day. It is a celebration of Hawaiian culture, or the aloha spirit. People commonly celebrate by giving gifts of leis to one another. Schools also put on plays[2] and elect a Lei Day court of Kings and Queens to represent the different islands.[3] Each island has its own symbol that is composed of a color and a flower. Hawaii (the big island) is red, Maui is pink, Oahu is yellow, Molokai is green, Lanai is orange, Kahoolawe is gray, Kauai is purple, and Niihau is white. In the same order the flowers are lehua, lokelani, 'ilima, kukui, kauna'oa, hinahina, mokihana, and a pupu shell. Niihau is the only island without a plant as its symbol. The link below has more information about Lei Day.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lei_Day
Categories:
pageants, culture, flower, holiday, tribute,
Form:
Rhyme
Let’s fly to the celestial fiesta of the cherry blossom,
In the North Eastern Region of Shillong, named, “The Scotland of the East,
The abode of the cloud,” in the lush mesa of the magnetic Meghalaya!
The wheezing Pine forest of the whispering waterfalls in the Khasi hills,
is bustling with the nature’s fairytale of pink, white and ivory!
As far as the eyes can see, the rolling tableland is ringing, ridden by the radiant petals of cherries!
Neither Japan, nor Paris, a mere remote region of Indian plateau,
Glowing in nature’s sublime glory of pellucid picturesque pinks!
Nicknamed, Prunus Cerasoides, the cherry blossoms,
a delightful boon of Himalayas,
are blooming profusely in the magical
verdant highland of the East Khasi hills!
The November is rippling with
moonlit music, plethora of flamboyant folk dances,
pageants, stalls to cater to the globetrotters’ penchant for the ethnicity
of the fur-flung region’s tribes’ cuisines, wine, arts and cryptic crafts!
Such bedazzling is the serenity of the panaromic platonic plateau,
As folks of the vicinity, are traversing despite the rampant pandemic,
to glimpse the shangri la of the richest biome of the floral magical lane!
The resonating frolic of the chirping and twittering from the cheerful cherry bushes
are teeming with the twirling bliss, intoning,
in winters whistling whiff!
A nature’s bounty, a pamphlet of picturesque hamlets’ terrains of aromatic sensuous purity!
Blessed are they, who have witnessed the once in a lifetime scene of crystal clean roaring rivulets, murmuring brooks, the ravishing orchids, quirky root bridges, aesthetic lakes and rills, scented wild flowers, encompassing the enigmatic cherry blooms of the mystic land of the majestic mountains!
An euphoria to have a ride amidst the clouds of the misty moorlands,
gliding languidly to take the signature of the mementos of the moments;
to kiss the plateau of wild orchids, flowering Cherries and sacred woodlands of those Khasi hills,
crackling with the sprouting, cherry blossom festival of the far East!
Categories:
pageants, celebration, nature, paradise, visionary,
Form:
Free verse
Queens are all over, and there are festivals, parades, banners and stuff.
I wanted to be Corn Queen once, but they chose a girl from Council Bluff.
Our phenomenal state fairs have a bunch of pageants galore.
We watch these winners parade in with titles, banners, and more.
Miss Atom was fine, looked great in her huge science lab.
Everyone was glad she got it, for she had the gift of gab.
Ms. Plastic Surgery had lips that kept falling off,
So her title was given to Miss Whopping Cough.
The men have their own competitions, of course.
Some bring their own cow, their llama or horse.
Mr. Cowboy for the West part of the state,
Was given a chilly reception, being six minutes late.
Stripped of his title, it pleased his first runner up.
Who had also won Mr. Lassie and Mr. Buttercup.
Mr. Elf on the Shelf was irritated ‘because he thought he had it.
Mr. Emergency laughed, for he was named Mr. Bad It.
Mrs. Hostess Snowball wore snowballs strategically placed,
And Mrs. Not—Ever-Ready wore a corny veil ribboned with lace.
Queens and Kings, running around, winning titles fast and furiously.
To put on their resume’s or job applications? I am guessing curiously.
Not being in a pageant, myself, I truly do not understand.
But there are contests for queens and kings all over our land.
Showing off titles, and banners and stuff.
Here is Mrs. Wart Hog cemetery. Her hide is tough!
Categories:
pageants, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Light Verse
*Image of Hallmark Channel by Giphy.
Chimed Upper Room
Chimed new day shines...eagerly corrects an upper room looks,
An attic improving rapidly...promotes roams of diligence,
Lacks found bordered leathered album...trapped topped a cornered desk.
Cutting edge mounts an Everest...Grand Canyon grooves a pass,
Emptying a corridor...grants patience traces of sweat caught brow,
Weighty whatnots slothfully shift...relief of prized treasure.
Lives confined--stilled in a photograph...bound neath grained-hewn film,
Reviving breaths aids wiping palms...adjusting dust rules idle air,
Widen pupil's gaze...proffers freedom to locked memories.
A leisurely dance of fingers...entertaining a page,
Courses from staging consequences...flips driftingly e'er so oft,
Cherished persevered poignant times...plus occasional laughs.
Age feebly trades a gentle glance...to sights of swept-up youth,
Niagara Falls revisit eyes...interlude recalls Wordsworth,
Rousseau swells the lulls...till Longfellow's maiden turns a page.
A soothing thoroughness applied...o'er sovereignty once claimed,
Delighting a soul wanting remembrance...effervescence inched rise,
Bestilled processing images...icons pageants the heart.
Strokes into yesterdays...fulfill a distant emptiness,
Once existed in certainty...consequently in dreams of need,
Now physically held...persuades rising tips of a mouth.
2020 July 30
*2nd Place*
Dusty Old Memories
~~Constance La France: Judged 2020 August 06
Categories:
pageants, happy, memory, sad,
Form:
Sijo
"As-salamu-alaikum,"
That means
"Peace be upon you" in Arabic.
Like most beauty pageants,
I long for world peace, too.
I want no trouble; I wish you
Nothing but peace.
I sure hope you know
The kind I mean...
What? Do I want a piece of you?
Come on now, don't be silly.
Drop those dukes, my guy.
I am a peaceful man.
A lover, not a fighter.
Don't go grab a piece either!
No sir, I want no shootouts!
How about we live and let live?
I'm no bird-flipper; that's not my style.
I'd rather flash
Peace signs to you.
I prefer a firm handshake.
Over throwing and parrying hooks
Do not wage war with me.
I want no beef with you.
I've consumed more than my share.
Instead, can we at least try
Being vegetarians?
If you extend your hand
Right or left, I'd shake it
And wish you a nice life.
Categories:
pageants, conflict, desire, encouraging, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
The Real Christmas
From Black Friday to Christmas Eve,
presents to purchase and wrap.
Office and family parties, visits to relatives
platters of food and gallons of alcohol.
Trees dressed to the nines in dangling baubles
and twinkling lights.
Continuous Christmas carols blaring from radios
and loud speakers.
Wreaths and decorations to adorn tables,
night stands, credenzas, book shelves.
Lights hung in strings so large that rows
of houses look like runways for planes.
Inflatable Santas, snowmen, reindeer and nutcrackers
compete for space in yards.
Nativities, pageants, plays special music
consume congregations.
Is this the real Christmas?
Or perhaps it is-
A silent night, two thousand years ago
in a dimly lit cave.
A babe wrapped in woolen clothes
lying in a sheep’s feeding trough.
Only shepherds and loving parents
in attendance.
An infant destined to change history.
The future savior of the world.
Categories:
pageants, christmas,
Form:
Free verse
Nature held a Beauty Pageant
Guess who was crowned a crest?
A flowery green meadow was the stage and rostrum
Watch who won the contest.
Well, the peacock from India was crowned beauty King
The bird of paradise from New Guinea became Beauty queen.
And last but not least was the Indian tiger, runner up
But care he for beauty that he might as well sup?
And what care any of them
for accolades, crown or cup?
Other contestants were the gorgeous leopards
and the flimsy beauteous butterflies
They'll be crowned
next time around.
For beauty tis rich in supplies.
But nature-lovers alone applauded the flamboyant winners
who gaily stood upon the flora
They did come out with 'flying colors'
Around them nature's beauty an aura.
Miss world bird of paradise yet unaware of her placing
The peacock endowed by God a crown
They might never know of this showcasing
At our staring, gawping, they might just frown!
Then there are those unsung unawarded yet perfect beauties
both among mortals and animals
who join no display contests nor pageants
yet are undeniably glamorous nonetheless
for beauty ain't exclusive
to önly beauty contestants.
Categories:
pageants, animal, appreciation, beauty, creation,
Form:
Tazkira
Beauty Queen
Yes indeed, for all to see.
And what a doll you are.
Sun - lit colored ringlets in a row.
You do your little dance for the judges.
For all the world to see, you are the color of poetry.
Second on your talent, as you went strolling by them.
Walking in your sun bonnet and percale, singing along.
Big blue eyes to sparkle and shine.
Then one day they found you dead.
Seems God called you home at last.
Said, come rest your weary head.
Your name on the tombstone read:
JonBenet Ramsey!
3/ 28/ 2012,,,, I put my 8month old daughter in about 4- 5 pageants. She was about 3 last time as I put her on stage, I thought no more of this.
Categories:
pageants, beauty, child,
Form:
Couplet
To be blessed
May the Lord Almighty set me free
To peacefully pace in His island’s lee
When the vice storms in a lusty surge
And Eden earth is thrashed with its scourge
When ethics to the right, to the left, adrift
And loosely swings in the tiring rift
When trains of thoughts on logic cease
And apothegms of love are trampled apiece
When war and war and war and no peace
And themes of strife are the best release
When peacemakers procrastinate
And terms of truce wholly terminate
When vacant words are in phoniness drenched
And policy pageants of the world are clenched
When nations forswear ingenuous deeds
And on travesties their heartache feeds
When hearts are sullied by Lies and Sins
And eyes deny afflicted beings
When stingy hands, know none to lend
And on vagrant feet sufferings descend
When man misdoubts “where is the Lord”?
And “when will He drum his heavenly chord”?
I pray to the Lord to set me free
For a blessed soul, I wish to be
Categories:
pageants, devotion, spiritual, world,
Form:
Rhyme
I’m stealing through a twilit realm, the ancient pale of Whereis,
passing chambers of an Heiress
(though no need to feel embarrassed)
through a magic mystic mirror hanging curtainless.
A glimpse near naked alleyways (denuded by the moon) ex-
poses Ghosts in gauzy tunics
carving symbols, round and runic,
in distended dingy dungeons of uncertainness.
Down misty streets of cobblestone – ancestral avenues –
patchwork paths consume my shoes
(chasing foggy curlicues
twisting, twirling by in twos,
floating anywhere they choose),
leaving footprints that confuse
vagrant wispy retinues
of the threaded wooden sticks that stalk a Puppet wandering.
Condensed in drops of fantasy, distilled in evening dew,
shifting Shadows I pursue
(wearing faces I once knew,
slipping slowly from my view)
turn their backs to bid adieu
leaving stars to tempt me through
Awful Tower residues
mocking treasures time outgrew
in the birth of old from new
framing pageants in review
midst the visions of the painted past I can’t help pondering.
Contorted candelabra claw the skyline’s walled suspension
caught in twilight’s intervention
– still unlit (in stark dissension),
therefore seething with a tension
in the quiet apprehension
of the Watchman’s inattention
to the night-time’s bold pretension
to her power, not to mention,
to her hyperspace extension
(far beyond my comprehension
of the sundown’s bleak dimension) –
on exhausted beaten boulevards of foolish fretfulness.
Oblivion depletes me, voiding haste and hurried hassles,
me, a simple abject vassal,
trailing moonlit floating castles,
– fickle feet, but fingers facile
grasping straws and pendant tassels –
as I stumble through the rubble of forgetfulness.
I think I must be dreaming as I seem to see these things,
neath a sky alive with wings
(hear the Nightingale, she sings),
midst the whispered murmurings
soughed by Phantoms clad as Kings
pacing palaces in rings,
while their hapless footfall clings
to the sagging sinking sands of midnight’s splintered splattered ruins.
Entangled in the swirling leaves that spin in dizzy flurries,
(while the wind beside me scurries
as an ermined hermit hurries)
lurk my sleepy woes and worries
(glowing faint’ but growing blurry)
which, when plundered by the demon dusk, I’d left behind me strewn.
Continued in Part 2
Categories:
pageants, fantasy, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Her mama wanted a beauty queen,
Her daddy wanted a rough neck.
Her mama wanted a little girl,
Her daddy wanted a tomboy.
Her mama had er' in beauty pageants,
Her mama got er' in the make-up.
her mama had er' wearin' heals,
Her mama got er' winning hearts.
Her daddy had er' in ball,
Her daddy got er' fixing trucks.
Her daddy had er' wearin' sneakers,
Her daddy got er' breaking hearts.
Shes daddy's girl,
Shes mama's world.
She has daddy wrapped around her finger,
She has mama at her beck n call.
Categories:
pageants, child, dad, father daughter,
Form:
Free verse
Jonbenet Ramsey, child beauty queen
Found dead in the basement of her family home
Photographs showed an expression so serene
To this day the perpetrator unknown
To solve the case, police questioned a neighbor
Her parents were placed under surveillance
Suspicion also cast on a jealous brother
But justice for young Jonbenet? No chance
This mystery has gone unsolved for years
Fingers have been pointed in all directions
After Jonbenet's death, child pageants drew jeers
Many crowns she won; scant time for celebration
Perhaps her killer will be identified
But time passes; hopes continue to fade
For her death, will anyone ever be tried
Bleached hair, painted nails; she was in first grade
Categories:
pageants, 1st grade, childhood, murder,
Form:
Rhyme
I wonder sometimes
What she saw, in exhilarating day-
That time of morning
When the sky smiles in winsome blue,
Sun-kissed grass paints itself over
And over in needle-points to scar the horizon and
Crumpled-paper clouds
Frolic on invisible threads and ladders
Held up by rosy breezes-
Robust in their secret toils-
It must have been sparkling with mirth-
Shy and winking with mystery-
Scarlet and poison-bright, shod in ruby
Heart-strings,
Shrieking in cheery chimes and beckoning warmth
To be broken.
Did the red haze cover
Her unadulterated eyes?
Just then,
Raping from the inside,
Her skin become dead ivory-
She saw- no glow,
Life left like a displaced conch,
Only echoes of what was once
An ocean, rolling outward in pageants and never-ending beauty-
Now blindness and melancholy tide, coming and going
and folding in death.
Once a regal fire in hues of purple-
Now bloody embers and ashes of diamonds-
the taste of the white fruit, lingering in her bitter mouth-
Once soul-juice illuminating and lily-stained pools-
Now reflections in shards of glass.
Categories:
pageants, philosophy
Form:
Free verse
It is Labor Day
I am paid not work
but what am I to do
the festive trimmings are not attached
so the perk is an useless quirk and
my boring schedule quickly fills in the gaps
as usual, my alarm sounds at 6am
the coffee maker perks at 6:15am
my rested body flings away the covers
I watch the Today show while shaving
fetch the newspaper, quickly scan the headlines
wait, I have more time my curiosity to prime
but the dog is on his normal morning schedule
so I speed to the door, his bladder to mollify
no fancy holiday breakfast awaits in the kitchen
so, on cue, I grab an egg, poach it, down some juice
my family sleeps on through the holiday mirage
my engine is in overdrive, but where to go
no parades, pageants append this vapid day
but there is no reason to stay at home either
no arriving relatives to amend the boredom
still, I have one day's free pay to spend
maybe, I'll take the car to the wash
nah, that is a weekend ritual
perhaps, I will canvas Pro Bass Shop
nah, the drive is longer than my work commute
OK, I will stay at home and be a utilitarian
I can finish trimming the bedroom shutters
but wait, I am out of that flossy white paint
and didn't my wife need the car for her
annual holiday shopping spree
I could re-mow the lawn to give it
a manicured look, but nah
to labor on Labor day is too oxymoronic
so I curl up in front of the TV
finish watching the Today show
contented with the lofty notion that
I am being paid to while away the day
Categories:
pageants, confusion, holiday, labor day,
Form:
Free verse
Swimming beneath a sunless sky,
Cherished melodies, serenade yours truly
Redolent of freshly baked loaves
Sun flare glistening on cinnamon skin ~
Graceful, striking dragonflies
Perform angelic, graphic aerial pageants
Brilliantly versed, competent displays
Flamboyant minuscule Red Arrows,
Slothful, reposeful disposition
Concealed beneath a thermal burrow
Happiness cannot be purchased ~
Brewing destined to be found
Such as the lost, buried treasures of Lima
Categories:
pageants, happiness,
Form:
Rhyme