Best Puddle Poems
(Dedicated to one of my childhood friends)
You were one of those charming lilies
that bloomed, so fresh, in my springtime pond;
when my homesick wings of longings flutter and soar,
and my mind alights
on the periphery of the playparks of the past,
I reminisce all the little fun we had
along with our other friends -
as we strolled through the narrow trails
in the verdant flowery meadow
that sprawled near our school
during the tender years of our lives.
The giggles and the laughter
the chuckles and the chatter -
those shrieks and the squeals
that baffled even the needles of time
to forget their own pace
and hop and waltz along with us.
Then roads diverged, new air we breathed
as we took new paths to pursue our purposes in life.
Years later, you arrived once very near my place
yet we could not connect and get ourselves to meet.
That day when we talked on the phone
and I heard your voice after a very long time,
my mind leapt for joy and soaked for some time
in a summer drizzle of rainbow memories -
of those I had long forgotten
as you reminded them to me in our chat -
they linger on like pleasant petrichor.
Later, I tried to recollect and sing our childhood songs
rhyming it perfect with the
unrhyming clamor of our choruses.
When commitments in work and family responsibilities
seem to have rusted the gate to my nostalgic dam -
your call was the key to open it - and when creaking opened
wistful emotions gushed forth
to form an ocean of yearnings
to be a child once more.
You revived the puddles of my mind with paper boats
that carry leaves, stems, and flowers of fond memories.
I felt like a gleeful kite in the vast blue,
fleeing for a moment from the humdrum day.
You will forever be the same charming lily
adorning my little lake of most treasured blossoms.
My bestie, my soul-sis.
Just a regular curbside puddle,
It really wasn't that big.
But it had the look of an ocean,
To a sweet little puppy named 'Pig.'
"Your paws might touch the water,
No chances that you will drown."
Pig looked at his master- all crazy,
And was frozen like ice to the ground.
"It's only a wee-bit of a puddle,
You'll easily make the grade."
But Pig wasn't ready to listen,
He stood there and was very afraid.
On a leash Pig's brand new owner,
Tried in vain to nicely persuade.
But Pig just wouldn't listen,
To pleas that his new person made.
Again -"it's only a little puddle,
You really won't get very wet.
You could see Pig was thinking,
"Wets wet! And I'm not ready yet."
"But the water is only a trickle,
If you try you'll see you can wade."
No matter all the sweet talking,
That pup just couldn't be swayed.
The pup felt a tug on the leash,
The water was coming too near.
So Pig started his squealing,
And squealing was all you could hear.
Discouraged -his person relented,
And lifted the scaredy-cat Pup.
He bypassed the wee little puddle,
And lost, by picking Pig up.
I wanted the end to be funny,
With a moral to find I could spin.
Yep, a guy with a pup he'd name 'Pig,'
Has a pup that is smarter than him.
Ponded and becalmed after the downpour, lying in shining stillness, I reflect an earthly existence; above me newly leafed limbs, and beyond, the wild beauty of motley skies in the afternoon’s brightening quietude. On the side of a country back road, I daydream. As leftover clouds drift in light and dark moods across my mirrored face, I ponder the possibilities of ‘what ifs’. What if life had taken me elsewhere - to a different time and place, filling another space, in another form and shape? What if I had fallen soft as a summer drizzle instead, dressing spider webs in misty strings of mini crystal beads.. or had filled a rusty-relic watering can, left behind ages ago beside an ivy-smothered stump.. or maybe had been wind-whipped with a vengeance into a swollen river rough and ready to ride the rapids.. What if, I had fallen as snow eons ago and now was found deep in an ice core in Antarctica.. how exotic! Straying cumulus find themselves captured in my imagination as well as in my liquid looking-glass oval, and my thoughts stray back to the soothing smoothness of my present reality. I know my time here, though sweet, is short-lived; and so I set my pondering aside and decide to seize upon the moment with contentment in my tranquil state of repose.
placid puddle mulls
lost in reflections of clouds -
spring rains laid to rest
Susan Ashley
May 1, 2019
~Third Place~
Contest: Happy Haibun
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Jump in that puddle. Make mistakes. Jump toward the edge. Hang on by your knuckles.
Dare yourself!
Get muddy!
Laugh your truth. Make fun of the ridiculous. Call them out. Live your life.
Stand in the rain.
Be yourself.
Every second of every day, no matter how mad it makes them.
Laugh at the rain.
Stand tall.
Punch yourself forward. Light your own fire. Keep yourself jumping. Enjoy the mud.
Splash yourself with happy.
Roar back at the thunder.
No one can get you.
You have yourself.
Soar, laugh, love, all hope is within.
Jump yourself happy. Splash. Play. Twirl, dance.
Be you!
Written: 9-8-2018 A Rainy Day Poetry Contest Sponsor: Sara Kendrick Inspiration: Photo #2
Type of poem: Carpe Diem
Dedicated to Evelyn Judy Buehler. I love the joy
and color she brings to her poetry!
Pink puddle of petals, precious
underneath the parasol tree.
Celebrant-pear in bridal white —
pairs walk down the chapel aisle.
The vigor of a garden dressed —
up and down the rows, I’m restless.
Blossoms of bittersweet passion —
red and tangerine attraction.
Sunspree of yellow jonquils —
tiptoeing tiny-tim-like through them.
No mortal map or shovel can undermine
the undiscovered pearly gate of Eden.
Roses blush with tinted cheeks —
a suitor pinches a couple dozen.
Black-eye in the center of a coneflower —
red-tinged-xanthous Susan rays of Summer.
Precious and few, our foray of the perfect,
the most extensive, the coolest environment.
Golden buttermilk rose, with its ruffled petals —
pleasant scent neighboring the paprika yarrow.
What worth Eden — its treasures of rainbow showers,
scents that are mind boggling, its puddles of petals?
3/22/2021
1
Puddle, swallow me in your
archaic and gracious depths.
I’ve been roaming through
my city and its veins
with no oceanic nor
dry eyes to salute to,
with no raw rapid river nor
traffic sign to guide me.
2
Their gods are angry at me,
puddle;
they now know -and not before- I have mocked
their rituals and broken their now transparent
and blood-ebon core. They´re angry at me,
puddle.
3
Release me from my self-put chains
Release me from these empty bonds
of mine,
from this modern and boring-to-watch Greek tragedy.
Save me, puddle;
sing to my haze under the red coldness
of the moon
and to my solitude under the fire on the petrified
willow.
4
I often walk through destroyed
statues,
with flesh and vines
touching the new light,
parasites of the old shadow
upon them.
I stare, and the copper-covered statue
blinds me with the reflection
of the wicked
sun
through the tortuous
morning mist.
5
There are
only
my dreams
in the mist,
and
my silhouette
dressed
as a man.
6
Please puddle,
let
my feet
touch gently
your first drops,
and so on
until
my figure
is wet
in the ocean
and
my neck
is hanged
from
the sky.
I’ll be able to swim towards the calm shore,
and rest in that land,
in the half-wet half-dry sand,
in a pain-free limbo.
Time will pass by,
and I will have forgotten
my human cover.
But just after my eyes clarify,
I will be forced to leave
the snow that had surrounded me,
and I will have to return to my core
and to the chaos I lived in.
And even if chaos won’t let me do it,
I will keep
trying to kiss it.
Mud Puddle Muddle
Why must mud puddles always be
Just sitting there in front of me?
Calm and still in sunlight’s flash
Inviting me to make a splash.
And why do I, though dressed for school,
Just wade right into this muddy pool?
To make mud pies and muddle muffins,
A make believe turkey with muddle stuffin’.
Somehow the mud moved here to there
From my shoes into my hair
From head to toe, I’m a muddy mess -
I tried not to, I tried my best.
And now my dog’s in here with me
Oh, what a messy sight to see.
My dog, who used to be so clean,
Covered with a muddy sheen,
Covered in a grayish brown
That used to be part of the ground.
And then as doggies always do
He shook and all that mud he threw
Muddy droplets every place
On my dress, in my face.
So I threw some mud on him
And then, my dog, he shook again.
I hear the school bus down the street
But the mud won’t let go of my feet.
I need some help with what to choose
Stay in the mud or lose my shoes.
Who are these children who can resist
The invite of a muddy tryst,
Can wait contently for the bus to school
Without jumping in this muddy pool?
When I get home, I’ll be in big trouble
Take a bath that will have to bubble
And I know it’ll happen again
Because “mud puddles are for jumpin’ in!!”
John G. Lawless
6/3/2012
Circular round, quite over and over
Raindrops fall rightly into the puddle
Grey as the darkest color except night
Making the mind to become quite muddled
The purest of reflections disturbed here
Through the puddle it is shown now aligned
Grandest creation put at a small scale
It remains still when perfectly designed
Great puddle reflects the world above it
Only interrupted by a few drops
They are a blessing to view, heaven sent
Made for enjoyment, boys in them to hop
Silver surface suggests sure royalty
Abundance of delight, marvelous light
Reflected off the surface of water
Brilliant and beautiful even in night
No matter how grey the sky is above
Puddles collect raindrops quite lovingly
Making ripples to flow from end to end
Rain creates an aura and is friendly
Opens the heart to the beat of a drum
Leaving the feeling of awe before me
No part of nature put forth projection
Life that is important and surely free
Russell Sivey
"Tears I shed, were once rain drops...."
Then the clouds opened and cried
for me. So I could be a child within the
puddles
~
So that my heart, bore less the burden
of my life.
In happy abandon, fully immerse myself
in the joy that is the
splash.
~
I thought not of tomorrow, nor of even an
hour from then. I was in and of the
moment. I was
free.
~
As for the tears the clouds had shed?
They once more became peaceful
rain.
Paula Swanson
For the contest; "A Poem Please"
Sponsored by Constance La France
Placement: 2nd
He simply could not resist,
The mud puddle he could easily have missed.
As he carelessly tripped into the middle,
The bottom of the puddle he kissed.
He could not have had more fun,
As into the puddle he would run.
Now mudcovered head to toe,
There was no place for the ray of the sun.
After playtime had come to an end,
And much energy he did spend,
It was back again to his home,
And see if Mom’s intolerance would bend.
He stood there before her and squirmed.
She looked at him and stood very firm.
He knew he had crossed the line,
As there was now no place to turn.
He was amazed at what he would hear,
As he stood before her in fear.
She fought back the laughter that day
And simply said, “No play today, dear.”
It is now ten minutes past noon,
So, I can wish you a good afternoon,
The clouds are gracefully displaying,
Whatever an artist imagines,
But my production manager is glaring,
Say your bit quick he mouths me,
Cheekily I replied, ‘let me be’,
I take a deep breath, and the sun
Peeps from underneath,
Playing hide and seek, having fun,
Oh, I see a cloud shape of a bunny,
That really looks funny,
Don’t forget to take your wellies,
For rain will certainly pour
At approximately three, maybe four.
Splash through every puddle,
Don’t forget to cuddle huddle,
Fun is in the air, a chilly Easterly
Actually no Westerly,
Breeze will later bring wild winds
Tell your mummy or daddy to pull
Down your window blinds,
Pack a warm jersey as well,
You can never tell ,
What will be the weather,
How ‘bout we get together,
Where are you going for tea,
Would you not rather join me.
Phones began ringing
I’m suddenly thinking,
Things look very busy on my TV
Slot, parents congratulating me,
Children stop homework
To listen and see,
My weather forecast,
Golly, a hurricane has just passed,
Aren’t we lucky,
High five and pinkie three,
I got transferred to kiddies TV
Where I’d much rather be!
Contest Entry: "You're a Weather Forecaster"
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
Date; 2022/03/21
white, Sunday dress
on a clean-faced girl ~
black mud puddle
Galoshes over my shoes
raincoat zipped up high
Umbrella to protect my head
but that puddle can't be denied
Splash! Splash! puddle jumping
Splash! Splash! puddle jumping
I'm not to blame
the puddle called my name
Let it rain let it pour
it's fun getting wet for sure
Splish and splash, Splash and splish
getting as wet as you wish
Dive right in dance around
getting wet like a happy clown
If mom ask why you didn't avoid the puddle
just smile sweet with a face a fuddle
Get wet get soaked
stomp that water fall and float
Laugh out loud while drenched
puddle jumping is fun cinch
Runny nose and slight chill
mom restrains the urge to kill
Off to bed covers tight
hear the raindrops deep into the night
Sleepy head fast asleep
cozy socks on little feet
End of rainbow slides into a puddle
happy memories our hearts cuddle
reflect my dreams as you mirror your world
cool, still and dark
yet changing
with God's
breath
12/08/15
Yay! Puddles!
Splish! Splash! Splish!
Wonderful Puddles!
You fill this rainy day with fun!
Thanks for always being there,
Right at the end of the driveway!
Although Mom might not like you,
I always will!
Because once my spashing is done,
I get hot chocolate!
Wonderful Hot Chocolate!