Best Palatial Poems
With the turning of the green
the fevered hues engulf my soul
rich radiant reds glistening in the sun
as my heart gleams with memories
of the solemn words that fall from
your angelic lips.
The ornate orange and dynamic yellows
come to life
like those sparkling flecks dancing
inside your autumn eyes. Oh my heart
my heart, rest my heart.
Breathless the breeze blows a subtle scent
of sweets from the pink flowing Amaryllis.
Blow sweet breeze blow off into the night
and on your wings I plant my kiss. A loving kiss
filled with the finest fruits of my harvest like the
finest bottle of red served on the terrace overlooking
the Grande Canal in Venice under a moonlit sky.
Blow sweet breeze blow and onto her veranda swirl
swirl gently into her palatial palace and wrap my love
firmly upon her waiting cheek.
"Destined to Love"
twilight Moon cascades, haunting tapestry
as hearts incline to secrets of mellow night
clandestine caresses embrace 'neath canopy
lovers silhouette engage in sweet romantic flight
ascending to voluminous height.
in ebony atmosphere, flirtatious fondling ignites fire
as breathless succulence invades flesh and bone
with adventurous satisfaction, love pursues deepest desire
while sequined stars illuminate soft tone
captivating aura of mysterious moan.
forbidden fruit lies tenderly amidst dew-kissed heather
hypnotic force of true love refused to be denied
petite vision in chantilly lace and supple leather
emotions escalate vast inner feelings to subside
love conquers life, happiness cried.
a lovers touch creates palatial garden of delight
a beautiful expression accentuating rare romance
inhaling fragile fragrance although their precious plight
encircles pair in eternal dance
succumbing to the power of temptation's trance.
twilight Moon cascades, haunting tapestry
gently, pure white wings of turtledove
whispers an evening song 'neath lovely canopy
while heavenly stardust shimmers from above
smiling upon lovers destined to love.
*For old romantic poems Contest..
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Palatial; zephyrs spring tide winds gently blowing in...
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Greeting the dawning of elegant twilights, sweet farewell
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As colourful banners sway amid its summer breeze kiss ~
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A chorus lines reflection; gazing atop the golden pristine pond
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Lovely ballerina's pirouetting about its perfect waters
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Preparing to grace poetics mirrored stage; her sunsets encore...
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...“The Silver Swan” *
Return To Me
As I count the days until this Spring's thaw,
darkly a shadow hangs over my head.
Your sweet memory for me holds it all
always a place waits your love in my bed.
Yesterdays- memories made of romance,
you stole the hot desires heating my mind.
That fantastic night, I taking a chance,
was then rewarded, your sweet love to find.
Darling, fly back to our palatial nest
from your distant first vacation retreat.
I exist only when loving you best,
and pray for the moment again we meet!
Upon distant shores, you leave my heart sad.
For we are everything we ever had!
Robert J. Lindley, 09-27- 2015
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Total # Words: 104
Kaleidoscope of a rainbow's hope,
realizations of grandiosity from a splendorous mount-
A looking glass for a peace, alas,
crystallization of beauty from an azure fount.
Sunset hues of yellow and white,
with a splash of Prussian in rain's delight-
Contrasts of the day and night
with a flash of a lover's fantasy sight.
Spectrum dreams, not as it seems,
continuous light shines with fervor's gleam-
A rift of a cliff of a twilit stream,
clashes with reverie’s majestic supreme.
I've seen the beauty held in
a rainbow's desire, as the rain ends with sangria fire-
Releasing all the glow acquired with the flow,
glistened tints of pink sapphire.
Palatial sprays in canary ways are believed to
shower life with nectar,
my medallion stays on my porch
these days, and receive nourishment from a
butterfly collector.
Chartreuse and cobalt
with a splash of honeyed hazel shimmer,
brings abstruse beauty with a flash
of lovely palatial glimmer.
Date Written: February 13, 2017
Hush
Hush now my lover
Come rest your head upon my shoulder
Let my arms league bring you closer
Quiet now my love
Or your tears will shred to my ruination
All the courage that I have
Let this soft caress to yours encompass
And do not hold upon the burning cup
It is so, how my lips are scorched
Come my love, disentangle your heart from this apart
Rest your weary self here
Lest this choke in my throat blister so
When I speak your name
It is for I; all the lovers under this sun
I see them of smiles and arm in arm
Rip my foot soles to desolation
I have no path to follow
Do not take on so, my lover
For if it must be, I will covet the lost
Of funeral marches
As for you, so I, for me, am not
In these seconds resplendent
In these minutes redundant
I to, hold upon the burning cup
To reek some revenge on your loneliness
I call God a fool !
And stand in defiant
Belligerent; should such love be squandered and sent to hell
I would stand, still
And call your name to the closing heavens
Tortured with some mercies over spill
And stab my accusation to the hearts of angels
Hush my lover, I beg
Your sobbing racks into every ounce of strength I have
And with gritted teeth inside my eyes
I can but cling to hope
And slowly die
With this forlorn and empty life
Please my love, should I fall amidst the briars
And my heart dig upon the shovels of graveyards
Spit rumored on tomb stones
And call all those other lovers liars
Come now, my bride, rest here
Follow me to these palatial dreams
Let us forget lifetime living
Let us forge inside an anvils breathing all that we desire
Hold fast to me my lover
Submit, rest, resplendent for our bravery
To look beyond hope and see beyond dreams
To the place where we were meant to be
Hush now my lover
Come rest your head upon my shoulder
Let my arms league bring you closer
(I still admire Shakespearean classic English as it sounded more poetic so I wrote this in that way)
O' man thou erecteth palaces, castles and courts
while on death a mere grave sufficeth thee
How magnificent and formidable thou maketh thy forts
in thy wish to make both future and history.
Thou who art' accustomed to mighty marble walls
and mansions of mirror, silver and gold
Thy grave shalt be small compared to palatial halls
even if a thousand demons it may hold.
Not a coin or even half a coin of gold
wilt thou take with thee to thy empty earthen grave
All that shalt ye leave behind for others to behold
and now shalt ye fear though ere thou hath been brave.
Thy innards shalt merge with mere earth soil and sand
No matter now if ye dwelled in huts or palaces of gold
Thy grave shalt occupy the tiniest portion of thy land
From the warmth of quilted beds wilt thee lie in the cold.
Thus ere ye consider founding, building thy imposing edifice
a homeless vagrant if ye shelter in thine care
Knowing our lives art' but on a mere precipice
while the joy of giving doth give a joy beyond compare!
Death's a journey but no provisions can ye take along and fold
How shalt ye respond when it inevitably calls?
Our skeletal bones, a simple ditch shalt amass and hold
as the living walk all over us with gentle footfalls.
Shakespeare too returned to dust as hath saith he
and while many might abandon his archaic style
yet his quill shalt vie for soul-like immortality
for his works might flow on as does the old Nile
Stare all over, O World, you scarcely utter.
Bear stalwart angels to arise over the air tugger.
Odoriferous water may abscond the realm of prosily.
Such as the Goddess of Heaven perpetrates an odyssey,
Please, Lord, I pray you are aware of my plea heed.
The blunder I committed thwarts a significant need.
My wickedness is crucial to fade as it's such a bigwig.
I aspire that everyone will stay ready for the callow sprig.
My trudge to the palatial gateway has formally begun.
I'm embedded in the exacerbated curse greaten.
We embody no faith in eliciting heavenly mercy.
And will do it as soon as I can from a gallows tree.
My mighty task was a cipher accredited to splendor.
Plus, the angels yielded me their smoldering ember.
They allotted me munificently for their rare care, too.
Failed my mystical prowess to beckon them, they mellow.
Below kaleidoscopic bulwarks or in a raving creek,
In bosom nirvana, we withdrew the draughty bleak.
I earned a lasting bliss than one could dream.
And I willingly sieve to share my peaceful stream.
Written: December 15, 2021
A STRAND (DEC 26) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
I am aware of the dangers of being judgmental
When it comes to the so-called celebrity “faith leaders”
However, calling them out, in my opinion, is elemental.
I cannot understand how they can bathe themselves in luxury
Talking about the lowly Jesus and his teachings
At the same time, milking those living in abject poverty.
While most of the world’s population are hungry and cold
These perfect examples of hypocrisy and opulent greed
With novel political connections become increasingly bold.
Television evangelists have access to the homes of the masses
Selling listeners worthless, blessed doodads and trinkets
Under the laws for religious exemption, avoid paying taxes.
Astonishing statistics revealing some of their astonishing worth
Make me question whether some of these “preachers”
Would consent to their own life-changing regenerative rebirth.
Their finances come from those least able to contribute
Whose hard-earned money winds up in their deep pockets
But this, you can be certain, they will hasten to dispute.
One of these evangelists is said to be worth over $40 million
Travels in his own airplane, preaches a prosperity gospel
His palatial home (he owns two!) is worth over $10.5 million.
The richest “man of God” I will not name--might get sued,
But, it is said he is worth over $300 million dollars,
Flies in his three private jet planes, sometimes comes unglued.
Beware, beware the nefarious dealings of these rich hypocrites
Whose nebulous prophesies over time have never come true
They will surely be held accountable for their media-age blitz.
Written March 27, 2021
“Wandering through empty and crowded streets with no destination in sight and sleeping under the sky with the fire burning inside was my life, the life of a vagabond. Survival is a funny game and life is an endless odyssey for survival” ~ By Poet
Homeless, a wanderer all his life.
An orphan, he was raised in the streets.
Mongrel dogs and gypsies were his company.
He had wild days and dolorous times.
At nights, he curled up on street corners,
Had brawls with other street children.
But as he grew up, he began nursing a dream,
To own a home and no more be a vagabond.
He took up odd jobs and worked day in and out.
Over time, against heavy odds
A little hovel, he did build,
In a verdant stretch of fertile land
Off the noisy, frenzied crowd
With sheaves of hay, he thatched its roof.
With reed and bamboo, its walls were made.
With mud and charcoal, its floor was glazed.
With wooden planks, its entrance he laid.
At dusk, when birds to their nests depart,
And beasts, to their covert burrows and dens,
After the day’s toil, weary and weak,
He curls into the cozy comfort of his home.
Through months and years, it gave him succor.
Sheltered him from storm and rain.
Made him differ from the gypsy tribe.
Lent him a footing in this populous world.
He wove around it many a dream.
With frugal care, his needs he met.
Like a squirrel stocking nuts and grains,
In it's secret granary for the rainy days,
He saved all that he had earned,
For a life to be lived later in bliss.
But alas!
His haven lies so derelict!
Its very foundation raced to the ground.
The once beautiful stretch of land,
Robbed of its greenery and grace!
The eviction squad usurped his land,
Hurling him down to the streets!
Making him once again a vagabond…
Bewildered, failing to budge an inch,
Like a boat, midway stranded in sea, he stood.
But his resilient spirits, to him affirmed,
‘Never defeated, though destroyed'
Soon the mud hovel, to a palatial mansion turned.
Where he envisioned himself as king of the land.
His smiling progeny picking fruits from his orchard,
And his cattle chewing cud in the shade of trees.
Why scoff it as the fancy of a fevered mind?
Oh! But to dream is every man's right.
Draped in diamonds like the starlit heavens
she walks through the milky way and shines
like a burning candle in the thick of night
She is Madrina the sky Princess of love
her sparkling eyes of green dance soft
beneath the blue palatial loft
Golden voices of angels echo through the halls
as she glides in and out of clouds wearing a Celestial shawl
drenched with dew from God's floral garden
Godmother to all innocents who die before their time
she rocks their cradles and sings them lullabies
here in a heaven where no babies die;
Imbued diamonds on a crocheted silver dress
she anoints their little heads then with an angel's bless,
she takes them to her bosom and rocks them,
All Night Long...
The Finest Antebellum Mansion in the South
By Elton Camp
Windsor was near the banks of the Mississippi River
Extreme luxury, size, beauty and comfort it did deliver
The manor was completed just before the Civil War
It’s builder, Smith Daniell, couldn’t asked for more
Only a few weeks after his palatial home was complete
Its wealthy owner became ill and his own death did meet
His heirs were left a four-story house & a huge plantation
It depended on slave labor that was ruining the nation
Windsor had twenty-five rooms, each with a fireplace
And running water and inside baths the house did grace
A rare feature indeed: that two dumbwaiters were found
From floor-to-floor more easily to move the food around
A ballroom on the fourth floor had an observatory atop
The rigors of a civil war threatened to bring it to a stop
It came to be used by rebs and yanks, so it did survive
And the family who owned it managed to stay alive
The mansion become a social center for the entire state
Invited guests arrived early, partied and the stayed late
But, in 1890 to Windsor the greatest disaster then befell
A guest left a lighted cigar on the balcony and it then fell
After the fire, only the thirty-foot-high columns did stand
And an architectural treasure disappeared from the land
The magnificent ruins remind of the South’s glorious past
And that no civilization built on human suffering can last
If a glimpse into the way planters lived you wish to see,
Go only a few miles from Port Gibson and there it will be
The ruins will remind us of some ancient Grecian temple
But built at the expense of slaves kept uneducated & simple
For pictures of the mansion go to http://www.scribd.com/doc/57710764/The-Finest-
Antebellum-Mansion-in-the-South
The picture of the ruins was taken years ago by the noted
writer Eudora Welty of Jackson, Mississippi. Some of the
English faculty at my college actually knew Eudora and had
studied under her at various workshops.
"A Happy New Year Toast"
Another New Year is traveling around
Happy expectations of wonders profound
Accentuate upon Life's positive things
Promised resolutions to achieve brings
Palatial gardens of kindness with care
Yearning for love and peace everywhere.
Nuture the families and friends so cherished
Embrace all humanity before finality perished
Whisper a prayer unto His Throne of Grace
Yield to the spirit sweet depth to taste
Encourage others with a warm smile
Admire rare beauty of God's great beguile
Radiate happiness whomever is near
Treasure each moment of living so dear
Open hearts and minds and souls
Accept challenges while reaching goals
Share words of love always precious and true
Tenderly touch those so special to you.
"A Happy New Year Toast"
*For Francine Robert's New Year Acrostic.
*Dec. 27, 2012.
"Steamboat is a-comin' 'round the bend!"
My! Oh my! The wonders it might portend,
As it stopped by sleepy towns along the Missisip',
Dodgin' stumps and wayward rafts on its monthly New Awlins trip!
Its arrival was heralded by the town drunk who had nothin' else to do,
And the denizens who didn't flock to the wharf were very, very few!
The steamboat 'General Custer' was indeed a spectacular sight,
With fancy-topped stacks and palatial pilot house painted red and white!
The pilot rang the big brass bell, then folks began a frenzied rush.
The first mate let fly some dirty words - 'twould make a teamster blush!
He had ten minutes to lade his cargo and didn't suffer fools gladly.
Passengers scrambled on and off the boat fightin' each other madly!
There was a colorful parade of characters disembarkin' from the boat:
There came a preacher man clutchin' his Bible wearin' a black frock coat;
A soiled dove slithered ashore much to the delight of the local swains;
Followed by a shifty-eyed gamblin' dude with intent to swell his gains!
Drays, carts, horses and men vied for space to unload their freight,
Fightin' and cussin' and the mate hollerin', "Hustle! Hustle! It's a-gittin' late!"
The pilot rang the big brass bell and the steamboat was on its way agin'.
Til next boat, the drunkard is on the skids agin' guzzlin' his jug o' gin!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
I walked into the mountain high
That stretched before me in the sky
A magnificent cathedral of towering stone
That reminded me I was completely alone
What a palatial place for God to abide
But, as in a trance He was there by my side
I was comfortable then without any fear
Knowing in my head my Savior was near
But strangely, in my reverie
A soothing voice then spoke to me
Hello my son it gently said
I'm really here not just in your head
I wanted a moment alone with just you
To tell you my love for you is true
I wanted to tell you I hear you each day
When you bow your head and reverently pray
I do bless your loved ones
I forgive all your sins
And will never forsake you
As long as you ask me in
I enjoy all our walks
And the talks we have had
What brings you up here?
Are you lonesome or sad?
I'm neither my Lord, I spoke back to him
Just looking for you to talk once again
I'm feeling so happy my soul is just great
Just searching for you so I could relate
I'm happy I found you I thought you'd be here
When I talk to you my head is so clear
My life is complete; it's a wondrous thing
When I talk to you, God, my heart could just sing
I appreciate your talking and listening to me
I need reassurance of your love don't you see
It's so nice to hear you as we walk through this day
Thank you dear Lord, for blessing my way!