Best Pattered Poems
October sky, the 1st we celebrate, a seasons heart yearned treasured moment,
Sun rises, new beginnings, Enlightens nature, we seek atonement.
Dawn lights an autumn’s crisp chill, christening fallen leaves of tomorrow,
Decorated front porch memories, earthly heritage, smothered sorrow.
Passes monsoons, thirst quenched foliage, brought on dust storms, summer’s breeze.
Colors dancing, enchanting harvest, Orange golden glows, on resting trees,
Cinnamon sneaks by steaming cider, mulls a spiced aroma essence,
Caramel apple, child’s smile, escapes harvest reminisce.
A wonder inspired walk, a gentle kick to wisp away,
Tree’s blessings, fallen life, decorated memories of yesterday.
Crisp leaves falling, sprinkled mist, dripping dew drops land by chance,
Hearts pitter pattered warmth speaks, provoking sudden dance.
Fawns brook side, a mother’s love, protectant father thru seasons dressing,
Such beauty grace lingers freely, coins free, bestows natures blessing.
Falls door opens, touched hearts so deeply, awakened sober love outpours,
God’s mystique he created goodness, for all of us he adores.
Daylights autumn beauty, followed by nightfall’s tucked in kiss,
A glowing lullaby, we’re put to bed; our harvests moon we’ve greatly missed.
oh wrap me close dear jungle deep, with fronds and fruits entwined
and hold me to your ancient emerald breast -
I long to hear those thrums within, the pulse of thickets vined
and feel your misty essence fill my chest
oh let your warming whispers brush the tympans of my ears
with sultry songs of woodland mysteries -
face-to-sky I'm pattered with your maze's torrid tears
as heaven weeps your primal histories
your canopy, breeze-tickled, shakes its tresses high aloft
to daub upon my cheek your orchid breath -
whisp'ring o'er the blooms and dells to shrug their shoulders, soft
through tragic tangles worthy of Macbeth
your winding streams and waterfalls, your scents of sweet and spice
sing songs of wooded wonder, rare and rife -
I pray aloud a blessing for this perfect paradise
and all such spots divine, the blooms ... of life.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Select 2 Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Picturesque" Poetry Contest, Eve Roper, Judge & Sponsor.
the droplets pitter-pattered
as my footprints melted into doesn't-matters
and all the buzzings and birds skitter-scattered
and, with Beauty on the nigh...all thought shattered
To the sound of pelting rain, she woke in early morning
Upon the tattered tin roof, it rhythmically pitter pattered
No sunlight peeked through clouds on daylight's dawning
She thought of him and of the dreams that were shattered,
of the nights she'd spend without end, remorse spawning
Windblown rain pummeled windows, on sills it splashed
Obscured was her view, vision blurred behind each pane
Howled as does a wolf, thunder growled, lightning flashed
In rivulets like rain, was weeping she struggled to restrain
Like drops of blood from a wound, her teardrops splashed
That night, in shadowed lamplight she espied on the corner,
a familiar silhouette of one whose countenance was a given
Dark eyes of a raven who had waived his right to scorn her
No vocal cawing was riven as torrents of rain were driven
He was beyond the reach of this sad beseeching mourner
Outside she ventured, into the sting of nettled showers
for just one glimpse of him, she would offer as her reason
On the street, scattered at her feet, her espousal flowers
Fallacy, was an act Charlotte Bronte' would label 'treason'
Uncloaked, soaked, she stood with her memories for hours
From grief she could not hide nor abide her mirrored face
His eyes, for once unveiled, yet not one word did he speak
A webbing of fine silk threads spun, woven in warm embrace
He had raised no hand in farewell. A tear grazed her cheek
Without solace she would linger in portals of empty space
She trembled, shivering, eyes teary, there was no mistaking
her sips from tainted cup had the caustic taste of bitter gall
The impeccant knight chose the right to claim his forsaking
Nimbus skies lay overcast without surcease of a graying pall
Fraught with aching, she sighed one word, "heartbreaking."
It Happened on a Rainy Night - Collaboration - 9-5-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Foggy mists engulfed the bright
When raindrops fell throughout the night
The lampposts glowed at midnight's dark
When sweethearts kissed at Lover's Park."
Raindrops pattered like two heartbeats
Nestled in a sheltered retreat,
Shared the velvet touch of a first kiss
Secret love, moments of bliss.
The fire pit has been made
The kindling has been laid
The match was put to the dry, dry wood
And the flames began to play
The fire now is burning bright
The coffee pot is on
It is the way to start the day
On this cloudy, misty morn
The quiet of the darkened night
Flowed back thru greyish mounds
The moon was playing hide and seek
With drifting wispy clouds
A shadow blanketed the camp again
Closing out the morning light
The breeze then chased a leaf down hill
Like a windblown handmade kite
The icy hued moon was sliding
It soon would leave our sight
The hope for sun should soon come about
From this sharp and frosty night
And from the sky quite unexpectedly
Came rain drops as big as grapes
It pattered through the shroud of trees
A whooshing sound it makes
The raindrops hit the burning logs
With a hissing reptile sound
That caused an apparition of pure-white smoke
To eerily hug the ground
As fast as the rain began to fall
It just as quickly did dismiss
And lanching shafts of sunlight
Replaced the lingering patchy mist
The sleepy woodlands did then awake
To the grandeur of a brand new dawn
And flitting through that peerless sky
The birds began their morning song!
There came today a shower of delight,
which pitter-pattered on my window pane.
With youth’s exuberance, my mind took flight.
Outside I ran, embracing April’s rain.
How sweet its scent! My soul was filled with mirth,
for I was truly living in the “now.”
Upon my lips, I tasted earth’s rebirth
as spring’s refreshment fell upon my brow.
I paused nearby my ornamental pear,
inhaling deeply, hearing skyfall’s sound.
The world was singing; fragrance filled the air.
I then began to twirl and twirl around.
Oh, how I wish to feel that way again -
so young and hope-filled, dancing with the rain!
My racing heart through silence seeps
a pitter-pattered tempo keeps
while all the world about me sleeps
so quietly in the night.
I sense a ghastly ghoul creep
a lurid wretch my conscious sweep
I fight it, but I softly weep
so quietly in the night.
Above the seas, beyond the moon
confined in heavens black cocoon
who plays that haunting deathly tune
so quietly in the night?
What will my captor now decree?
Shall I know life, shall I go free…
or shall the devil come for me
so quietly in the night?
Befitting rain to match my tears
reflecting all these gripping fears
as light forever disappears
so quietly in the night.
08/22/15
Submission for contest: Rain and Dark, Isolated Places
Hosted by: Pendleton Arkwright
The unpainted house with a tin roof
Which leaked when it rained_well it poured
It's known tin is tin and not rustproof
Although rain on the roof played chords
The rain still with a tin roof_well it poured
That music on the tin roof pattered
Lulling to sleep the occupants
Whose dreams during rain were splattered
Like splashing rain upon floors patterned
When it rained, the occupants were splattered
Spirits not dampened, entwined in love's strong chord
Even when the rain pitter-pattered
Warmth and love the home still could afford
That family remembers even though scattered
Entwined in love's strong chord even though scattered
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Contest: Manassian Quitain
Written: January 29, 2015
Well there you are
I have slithered into the wrong home tonight it seems
I sniffed out the repugnant ward and I don’t like what I see
You were magnificent in the face of all beholding you
But your conceit is a trap that even I, the snake, have fallen into
You mask yourself with humility
You compliment me to gain
Begging for the summer rain
Begging for the words that would settle your brain
You got it
But instead it rained on me
Showering me with dangling promises
As typical as can be
Empty
These words so execrably wasted on you
As if for a moment I could even dare CRAVE a poem for you
I do not hate you
I cannot love you
At times I do not know what to feel
Why do you do this?
Put on a show and hope someone will notice?
Do you want a nice pat on the back?
I am armless; I am all but muscle and scales
I am a dead carcass and yet you continue to compliment
The beauty of my revulsion
I hold it to my heart
This trap you set
I helped you set it right from the start
And you have forced upon me the mere THOUGHT of you
Taking away from my bitter lines
What empty necessity I have turned out to be
Some kind of trophy coiled around your feet
Walking all over me
I’ve hissed and I’ve hurled insult
And the rain pitter-pattered my distain
You rested knowing I would remain
You needed reassurance
You always needed GAIN
Well I’ll tell you
This serpent is drained
And oh how I hiss
I will not change into that typical mistress
That settles your conscience with a kiss
You will not have me
I will never kiss those lips
For you are as fake as can be
And not even a snake like me
Will help you in the deceiving
As everyone watches your show
The only one truly believing
Is YOU
Don’t hesitate out the door
I’ll swallow you whole
they say that the stars that hang out with the moon at night are for lovers
when you walked with me
held my hand
my heart pittered and pattered
to the sound of puddles
hugging the falling cloud drops
i was sure you could hear it
i was shy and you must of known
because with your hand you calmed my doubt
they say that the rain that hangs out with the sun on a bright day is for lovers
i was oblivious to the rainfall
warm and dry and wrapped in your reflection
your reflection that decorated the small pools of rain
that filled the holes along our path
that heated me beyond my boiling point
i was sure you could feel it
i was scared and you must of known
because with your hand you cooled my fear
they say that the fireflies that hang out with the flowers at night are for lovers
i knew i would always be with you
like a snowflake frozen on my shoelace on a summer day
when we sat the following day
we sat on the soft kelly green clover on the highest of hills
with the line at the end of the sky
like the horizon
forever joined
forever romance
Tide out ...
Swells break far and creep slow,
sweeping tender 'cross washboard flats
where they used to dance -
where they lauded the ebullience of life
in purpose ... and pairs.
Beach ballerinas, flaunting perfect line ...
toothpick legs busy as Baryshnikov 'midst the billows,
leopard mantle still as stars
while they streaked and pattered forth-and-back,
never touching the hem of the combers.
Nature has no humor, they say ...
yet 'twas a game they played with the ocean's edge,
the sand they pranced was just as cold -
just as wet and wobbly and wild ...
it served no critical purpose to shun the wash in such diligence.
Yet they were masters of the art, and graceful,
as tho' it had been thus for eons ... and of course, it had.
That very game and dance is what I miss so dearly now,
tears disguised in the salt spray on my face,
as I pull another clump of plastic ...
From last year's nests.
~ 4th Place ~ in the "Last Year's Nests" Poetry Contest, Craig Cornish, Judge & Sponsor.
Scratchy, scratchy, what's that sound,
Atop my home space, high and round?
Could there be one self-served mouse,
Schemed to steal my sweet, dry house?
No, those sounds don't seem that soft,
For some such small rodent, there aloft.
Could be, large birds of prey thus wait,
To bring me sure, their sweet, sad fate.
Or maybe, through some so-bright sky,
Dark clouds have come to weep and cry,
Thus pattered, loud, my walls and roof,
To make this day quite rummage-proof.
Or maybe, perhaps - oh, please let it be -
One bright red squirrel like me, but she?
I'll listen and wait, and quite quietly hide,
As my red squirrel heart beats fast inside.
For all I can see through the door in my keg,
Is paper and a puppy, and a little boy's leg,
But a home is home, and I'll hold mine tight,
Praying for a she-squirrel, wrong ... or write!
Written and submitted on October 18, 2019
For the "Realism Art" Poetry Contest
Eve Roper, Sponsor.
( I chose Norman Rockwell painting/illustration number two. "Write" in the last line is mis-spelled intentionally, as reference to the boy's activities )
The sky, heavy-laden with curdled black clouds,
Burst wide open, and all night long it rained.
It pitter-pattered on the panes,
And rattling on the slanting roofs.
It churned the dry soil to a pulp,
Overflowed the dusty gutters.
It drove the people from the streets,
And moaned amongst the houses.
'Twas but a fluke, a summer storm
Lightning snaked the sky
Thunder rumbled and crashed
Instilling fear and panic in passers-by.
Soon it abated to a drizzle,
A thin mist shrouded the square.
And as the town clock struck the sixth hour
Ghostly figures ventured forth again.
Yet during all this precipitation
He trudged alone along the streets,
Rain dribbled through his matted hair
And wetted stubble on his dirty face.
It cleansed his external demeanour
From the grime of past lazy days,
It could do nothing to eradicate
The heaviness that filled his inner self.
The air was warm, and strange enough
He felt little discomfort from the rain.
The vault of heavy clouds ascended,
The breeze was gentle and fresh.
He went back to his favourite place,
The bakery shop has not yet opened,
From its cellars hot dry air
Surged up, surrounded by his whole being,
Warming him from the wet chill.
He soaked up the fragrant smell
And yearning for freshly baked bread,
A luxury he could ill afford.
And so he continued on his journey,
Alone, atoning for his past.
Hungry and desolate and chained,
Externally cleansed by the drenching rain
Until the day he'd die.
To the sound of pelting rain, I woke this early morning
Upon the tattered roof, it rhythmically pitter pattered
No sunlight peeked through clouds on daylight's dawning
I saw him in a dream and those that were shattered,
and of nights I'd spent without end, remorse spawning
Windblown rain pummeled windows. On sills it splashed
Obscured was my view, vision blurred behind each pane
Howled as does a wolf, thunder growled, lightning flashed
In rivulets like rain, was the weeping I struggled to restrain
Like blood dripping from a wound, as if my heart was slashed
That night, in shadowed lamplight I'd espied on the corner,
a familiar silhouette of one whose countenance was given
Green eyes stared at me, not with looks of a foreigner
No words were spoken as riven torrents of rain were driven
He was beyond the reach of this sad beseeching mourner
I ventured outside and into the sting of nettled showers
for just one more glimpse of him ~ that was my reason
On the street, scattered at my feet were wilted flowers
Fallacy, was an act Charlotte Bronte' would label 'treason'
Uncloaked and soaked, I stood with memories for hours
From grief I could not hide nor abide my mirrored face
His eyes were unveiled, and yet not one word did he speak
There were no spun silk threads, woven in warm embrace
He had raised no hand in farewell. A tear grazed my cheek
Without solace I would linger in portals of this empty place
I trembled, shivering and teary eyed. There was no mistaking
that sips from a tainted cup had the caustic taste of bitter gall
My impeccant knight chose as his right to claim this forsaking
Nimbus skies lay overcast without surcease of a graying pall
Fraught with an echoing ache I whispered, "My heart is breaking."