Best Pavilions Poems
Night of Aurora
Dance of Life -
Night of Aurora before the midnight sun,
Before the polar threshold of the daystar,
As Aurora’s swirling spirals flicker
In winsome purple-green electric flashes,
Dappled spectral neon scarves
From nighttide’s celestial dust,
Dance of barefoot soul bewitched -
Arrayed in fiery folds of scarlet-red
Leaps from star to star
When snow buntings chant
Artic serenades with her melody
As silence falls in silver solitude
Of flashing silent symphonies
Across philharmonic fantasies –
Dance of the artic
Beauty in diaphanous neon,
Ephemeral bursts of celestial streamers
Surge from astral pavilions,
Splash in sheer waves of gossamer mauve,
When lavender prisms pirouette
In charged rhapsodies over the fair isles
With sweeping pirouettes
Dance of the ancestors –
Ethereal ribbon dance in cascading rainbows
To tell tidings of sonorous harmony
From those released past the limits of the sky
They wear kaleidoscopes of happy hues
While Aurora dances a tarantella to say
She rejoices too.
11-17-22
Checked the Thesaurus for the spelling of “nighttide.”
Twenty-nine lines of poetry
Contest: Poetry Marathon - Mile 22
Sponsor: Mark Toney
The beloved Queen of Hearts was a merry queen, who'd ever loved to bake;
Like confetti midnight stars, sparkling; or the yellow, noon sun, wide awake.
She baked myriad varieties of cookies, and delicious pies of different kinds;
And also scrumptious cakes, so divine. Like pure gold, tinted rainbows find.
The king had a cheerful disposition, too, but betimes could be quite stern;
Like the scarlet blossoms, which fail to thrive, before floriculture is learned.
Faithful friends became part of the many faceted court, like tinted bubbles,
Fancy dressed, and as vital to royal felicity, as a jade rose, with no troubles.
Forthright family were familiar at court, in the fleet, peregrine falcon days,
Fast-forwarding to fabled, fruity tomorrows, and to fitful, spiced, solar rays.
They lived in the house of green ivied walls, in the royal, emerald summer;
When golden sun visited almost every room, eager to touch a world of color.
Silver maples touched sapphire skies, on their street of red, sweet Williams,
Edged by creamy sand, where the surf came, onto teal, foaming, pavilions.
Nighthawks and wild wood anemones, were neighbors, bestowed by nature;
In nameless, never-ending, silvery hours. Red butterflies, loved floral flavors.
Heart tomatoes adored the orange sun, when wood ear mushrooms listened;
And Canterbury Bells plants were ringing, by roses whereon dews glistened.
Toad lilies stared in bug-eyed fascination, at the searing season of surprises;
And Billy Button blooms were getting dressed, as skies split in colored slices.
'The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer's day;' a Friday.
But alas, 'The Knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts, And took them clean away.'
When purple even arrived, 'The King of Hearts called for the tarts,' in a roar.
The lad relished sweets, but the king was mad, 'And beat the Knave full sore;'
'The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts, And vowed he'd steal no more.'
The kindly queen quietly quipped, 'After all, the boy has never stolen before!'
The King of Hearts was returned to good humor, and that lad kept his word;
And was back in favor, like pink spring tulips, or a song of blue mockingbird.
Magnetic attraction, enchanting dream of a lifetime -
majestic pyramid attracts my eye,
mystique draws me in
O, your architecture! Pavilions, colonnades; art enclosing art,
every square inch deliberately designed,
ceilings pour forth scintillating splendor
Antiquities from Rome, Egypt, the Orient:
trying to wrap my head around art
created in Mesopotamia 6,000 years ago
Dazed and captivated in your Greek sculpture hall:
Bronze beauty, marble magnificence,
Venus de Milo seduces still
What history you have archived on your walls and pedestals!
Charlemagne holding his scepter,
Louis XIV in regal resplendence
Oil on canvas communicates genuine genius
Rembrandt, Rubens, Raphael,
Vermeer, Van Dyck, Vigée-Lebrun
Mythology awakened to life in marble:
Hera, Hermaphrodite, Neptune, Nymph,
Psyche and Cupid
Even commoners respectfully regarded:
Messina's military man, Brueghel's beggars,
Michelangelo's dying slave
Centuries of religious faith expressed with grace and grandeur:
Moses in the bulrushes, Islamic ivory,
the penitent Magdalene, Virgin and child
Artistic vision reflects and redirects history:
Renaissance masters forecasting the future,
Monet's Impressionism a daring new style
Fifteen minutes till closing, where have the hours flown?
What of tapestries, textiles, drawings, decorative arts?
Alas, another day.
Highlight of the day, world's most famous painting:
mysterious Mona Lisa smile
thanks me for coming to visit
Louvre:
timeless testimony to artistic aesthetic
cathedral of contemplation
history of humanity
Written 15 Sep 2020
What mystery lies
Deep in pavilions green
Draped in sunbeams bright
The languid eyes of soft sleepy June,
Awaken to tease the flowers that bloom;
With liquors of dew for striped honey bees,
Dipping their straws if the blossom agrees.
Let the whispering wind fly with no haste,
Thro pavilions of blossoms dotted with lace;
Where tender feet trip thro the myriad of greens,
To paint the meadows of June's sunny scenes.
The ancient forests deck far away hills,
Where winding streams wander thro unruly rills;
And the alchemy of all that is told,
Turns mossy stones into precious gold.
The perfumed petals adorned with sweet scent,
Surround everywhere the elfin sprites went;
As these little ones skipped thru the sunlit day,
It was with these shadows I needed to play.
So the chapter of June comes to a close,
She floats into summer on the scent of a rose;
She pirouettes on tiptoe in her gossamer gown,
Wearing on her head a bright golden crown.
Ere the princedom lies
‘Neath their king, old and wise
Waves of tribute and love adorn
The green grasses and dewy tears,
The elated whispers of morn
Sweep the lea’s awaiting ears
With cheers echoing to the skies
Drifting clouds passing by
Lend their shade the verdant glade
O’er head as is below
So peaceful flows the meadow
As within the blooming flower
With quiet sips the butterfly
Folds its wings as gently sings
The rill where flits the dragonfly
Pleased, the rustling of his leaves
Soothe the flowers and still the wings
As cradles the nests swaying gently
Where sleeps the feathered babes
Dreaming of flying 'bove the lea
In swoops and dives effortlessly
Cross forest, brook, and glade
In the heavens the sun is shining
Though in blustering reds declining
Atop the distant evergreen pavilions
Where in dusk await the millions
Of stars to watch over a weary king
A day in full, his joyous rule
And tomorrow a new beginning
As tonight, the cricket’s soft chirping
Usurp wakefulness for dream
Of
splendid
thrones of
gold
Of
treasures
manifold
Of Sultans
and Shahs
Of Emirs
and Rajahs
Of
jewelled
caskets
or lavish
banquets
Of
sparkling
crowns
and
flowing
gowns
Of kings
and queens
Rulers and
emperors
Of their
subservient
stewards
and
obedient
butlers
Or the
servile
knaves
and
stalwart
squires
Of the
peons and
minions
pages and
pavilions
Of castles
and palaces
of
abounding
gold and
silver
in
ostentatious
regal
splendour
Ah the
fanning
maids in
waiting
Yet to me
one thing
worth
more
noticing
The poet
minstrels
who came
to sing
from afar
for the
queen and
king
For I'd
rather be a
poet for
kings
so to my
tunes
swayed
the
kingdom
than I be
the king
of mere
subjects
and be filled with regal
boredom!
So I could join ranks of
troubadours
and sing for the king
some folklores
For words are the heart of imagination
Inviting to poetic fascination.
(form Troubadour) Ars poetica
idealism of youth
mélange of
dreams and prayers—
disparate yet intertwined—
assembled in their thunderous ranks
to echo past myriad
gleaming colonnades that
buttress evermore eternity
self-betrayal and realization
stolid mind shattered
by coruscant might,
and one's irreverent yearn
in shards was rent asunder,
bereft of merit but who
transformed amid the filth—
banality dismissed
sorrow and reconciliation
grieving stream of years
torn from Chronos’
pavilions tattered—
first estranged but then
with fairness stemmed
life's passing entourage—
muted those who would upbraid
apotheosis
were you there
you might have seen
time begging after destiny,
which turned aside
what once had been—
transcendent he continued then
past worlds without an end
Click on 'About This Poem' above for additional comments.
Take me to an enchanted place I've never been
Before, a place where there are gilded paintings
In the halls on walls, each one more breathtaking
Than the next, where surreal senses come alive
And elegant imagery dines with-in exotic climes,
Where quaint terraces with buoyant bougainvillea
Bloom in bright shades of magnificent magenta.
Where crystal wine glasses glisten on glass table
Tops overlooking a rich teal ocean view where
White sails dot the harbor and graceful gulls glide
On cool currents as the sun shines silver shards
Off their serene soaring wings....winging, singing.
Let me be surrounded by soft serenades, to the
Symbiotic sounds of violins and harp strings within
Poetic pavilions where dancing and music are one
With the song, where peaceful loving spirits belong.
8-26-16
POETRY UNHINGED - Poetry Contest
Sponsor John Lawless N/A
My mind is made of dirty mud dipped deep down inside an ancient tin mine
My perspective is almost always skewed upright, uptight with airy sculpted foresight
My opinion is of no consequence to ants, rats and minions claiming views of the city, the flats and the pavilions
And whatever and whenever I breathe
I breathe you
I am nowhere to be found yet I am neverwhere to begin with
Whenever I'm about to lose myself, I'm bound to found you
My surroundings are my distant playground, shanty dance floors and lonely parks
I am free whenever I choose to chained myself to you
My stomping, my kicking, my violent tendency smothered me to a delicate submissiveness
To you
I am the airplane, the big balloon and everything in between
I am the air, the star and all that is beautiful
I am that recurring dreams you had on countless nights
I am not you
Yet I am you
Breathe me breathe you I love you
Pleiades P
Pulsating Pleiades
Pelione’s fair daughters
Play in pale pavilions
Paradise peekaboo
Pearls on Orion’s pelt
Plead pure plaintive paeans -
Phenomenon’s portrait
4-9-21
Contest: Pleiades P
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Dawn hurls feisty
Shadows fly fast;
Light grooms sight
Heavy eyelids
Sleepy, jerky knees;
Awkward notions
Rise and shine now
Greet dear sunny;
Sure miracle
Overnight rain
Wet walkway paths;
Tai-Chi dancers
Movement trancelike
Set of slow steps;
Martial ballet
Surge of feeling
In tight moving;
Poignant dancing
Serious business
This martial sway;
Calming figures
Simple fanfare
Stray passers-by;
Curious onlookers stare
Sea view from above
Twenty storeys high;
Skyline pavilions
Skyscraper toothpicks
Poking the air;
Concrete contrast
Leon Enriquez
01 May 2014
Singapore
Sitting beneath this pavilions golden crown carved moment ~
Slowly glancing about the crowd; peering into their eyes, their hearts; considering....
Adorned amid such a pretentious cloak!?
Redress this stroke, upon the canvas so brushed
As if the facade could hide, this empty sepulcher inside
Come not with your wilted flowers of hypocracies....
Mist like dew rising within these hollow born roots
Created in the bed so extracted from this, shallow made earths
Contaminated, wherein they have thrived!?
Yet make anew this tilling of your spirits soil
A fragrances sweet aroma for, all their senses to behold ~
Laying aside such arrogance and pride; these preludes, spoken....
Gazing upon stilled wonders embraced by a hush; refrains hopeful anticipation?!
Warmths, loving eyes fixed upon this marvel; what could be
The greatest moment ever written upon the pages of, history ~
Do you believe? What is one willing to give thus, in exchange?
Bleed not this cup of tainted blood but an offering; such mockery....
For "Heaven" waits inside the bejeweled gates amid this, silence and awe
Pondering these thoughts; a sudden twist of a fates possibilities?!
A dawning, of a brand new age ~
What will it be and, what are they willing; this cloak, of many colours
But only one, shall do....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....The impossible dream!?
Plucked from before the hulks of houses going up
My childhood sea and spot of southern sky
The cornflower eyes northern poets wove into their songs
And eastern poets sang the autumn high
Climbed hills to catch the moon
Timid flower placed inside a Chinese vase
Enamel green the ocean waves
Silvered summit at the rim
Of years carried in this ebbing tide
I had many autumns and many gilded nights
Air crisp, sky long and blue, blue
Cornflower-hue of splendid time
Pressed as scavenged leaves between the pages of old books
Verse the fixing glue when flower lives are but a glimpse
A faded head and sea gone dry, the petals lost
The poets leant from their pavilions to fish the gentle orb
And roam the stars
I roam the concrete paths and pick the crumbs
A snatch of light between the clouds
Father, My Father the hour is come,
My weary heart feels the brewing storm,
Rome's Calvary to Me they hasten,
In Thy presence I kneel chastened.
Take Thy goblet from Me I pray,
Veer me away from the devil's way,
Hide Me within Thy towering pavilions,
Away from Caesar's bloodthirsty minions.
But not My will but Thine be done,
I stand obedient to Thee a Son,
Weary but willing to stand the test,
If that assures salvation for the rest.
So let Thine angel give Me strength,
For though My bloody sweat fall at length,
I'll drink this chalice of suffering still,
Knowing I harken to My Father's will.
To You then My breath I give,
Let death be for Me a brief reprieve,
And eternal life for the rest of human race,
Who'll sing forever Your Amazing Grace.