Best Quenches Poems
Ink of life cannot bleed for eternity,
so I place dried petals in between,
crucial chapters of my memoirs.
When we stop breathing poetry,
our crestfallen pen, left in silence -
where do we poets go?
Is there a special place,
where the ink flows forever,
like waterfalls of mercy -
where thirst quenches
through poetic potions.
Releasing unspoken words -
can you hear the messages?
Floating in the tepid breeze,
brushing against your face,
forming goose pimples.
When our spirits make love to poetry,
we radiate like rays of sunshine
warming the world.
We do not speak poetry,
it whispers to us,
like spotlights in the sky,
soothing scars upon the moon.
When we cry poetic tears,
we pour like raindrops,
refreshing seasonal blossoms.
Our muse battles storms,
like lilac lilies in the snow.
We illuminate like a timeless rainbow,
absorbing all spectrum of vibrancy.
Glistening after clouds clear,
from red to yellow to green.
We the word collectors,
soul connectors,
forever weaving like
spiders spinning cobwebs.
What becomes of us
when our pen's shadow
no longer appears.
We may never write the perfect poem,
but poetry reminds us we are alive -
as our words become immortal.
Simple Musing
Silent One
25 November 2020
It was quite a time
when with my mind you used to rhyme
and in the tune of my heart you sign.
That time was quite long
when I thought the words to me belong
and I could compose a million song.
It was such a feel!
to bare my soul to words with great zeal
put my Self in words, nothing to conceal.
A thrill beyond words!
when you believe you can capture worlds
and raise the sharpest of them as swords.
You stand on your own empire
as every poet in you quenches a fire
and for avid readers, a pleasure not to expire.
Dare I now raise my pen?
till a voice grumbles into my den!
do I have to ride those paths again?
Dare I, the very words blame?
not to have met the poet's flame!
or, the rhymist having a solo aim
shaping verses into a frame
and their intense fire tame!
The words when denied their vent
an ink of a common bent
a rose of a predictable scent
a music of no content
a love of no intent.
Captured by a young man with an old soul that's good to the
bone.
Her desires awaits patiently and yet fulfilled as he joins her at her
throne.
A mile away he can hear her voice whispering in his ears oh
soo Sofltly.
Saying, that her desires which are kept in secret need not come out, they ARE
Costly.
Captured by a cougar with true beauty that has a predilection for young
meat.
She quenches the thirst in his eyes by her presence, yet he gets sooo
weak.
The right environment explodes to never ending imaginations and pure
intimacy.
Constantly caressing, hugging, kissing and passion that turns into more
creativity.
Their lips begin to speak a different language that's spoken oh sooo
quietly.
She feels the muscles of his arms wrapped around her body sealed oh sooo
tightly.
Unbreakable emotions results to stimulations that are non fictional, not planted, but up rooted, as she loves it Sooo Rightly.
Objects of desire
quenches not thirst of my soul,
that seeks only your embrace.
That that comes and goes
is unreal, oh hermit ~
agape love alone’s real.
The long years are harsh where the hot sun does burn
on the sand hills and plains when seasons won’t turn
where saltbush and samphire do somehow survive
and through these hot days there seems little alive.
But shade in the she-oaks can offer relief
for creatures surviving who still hold belief
the outback’s not dying though is tinder dry…
then cotton-wool clouds start to build in the sky.
And when it gets humid and balmy at night
the sunrise is red with the new dawning light
and leaves get up dancing and float on the breeze
ants start to scurry and thunder does tease.
There’s change on the way and a scent in the air
and storm birds are singing to make all aware
that drought may be over and soon there’ll be rain
the outback will flourish ‘til drought comes again.
Now pastel pink earth starts to darken to red
as it quenches it’s thirst on the deluge ahead
the creek beds awake from their slumber for years
and billabongs form behind quick rising weirs.
The pans and the lowlands are holding their fill
and outstation tanks are now starting to spill
so comes a new dawn from a heartbreaking scene
when almost like magic the land turns to green.
Where a land is vindictive and can be unkind
where water is life, and with man undermined
where vastness is changing from sleeping repose
the buds are now bursting and now they disclose…
…a rainbow that travels so long with the eye
in a landscape rebirth, to thanks from the sky
I’m taking a stroll through a live daisy chain
in a carpet of colour that follows the rain.
She like a fresh dew bestows nourishment
to the graceful morning dove
in a luscious meadow filled with
tall fluorescent green grasses and
yellow, blue, and white wildflowers,
quenches all my worldly thirsts.
She like the pure white swan which
swims majestically on
a sea of gold reflecting
the powerful rays of the sun
consumes me with all her beauty
She like a great bountiful mountain
rising sharply into the
endless cobalt sky accented with
opulent cumulous clouds
lifts me to greater heights
She like the burnished northern star,
the glistening Polaris, guiding
the wayward ship to it's port,
leads me to my one true home
She is my heart, my mind and my soul
She is my meaning, my substance, my know
She is my sun, my star, my moon
She is my spirit, my vision, my muse
When the rain shall come
When the new day shall be
You and I will rejoice
For the rain will wash away
The painful seasons of tyranny
For the new day shall bring
A dawn of a new hope
The hope to continue living
Long days of waiting for rain
Have never been easy at all
But when the rain shall come
The drought shall run to hide
As a gush of rain water
Quenches the dilapidated dusty ground
And you and I shall
Drink the water of the rain
As we curse the dying dust
Of the dead drought,
When the rain shall come
Sweeter than nectar
More succulent than honey dew
Reminiscent of all that I adore
I long for the taste of you
Like a tall glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day
Or the cool April rain that tumbles down in May
I long for the taste of you
Like providing sustenance that quenches her thirst
After long lonely drought has famished our beloved mother earth
I long for the taste of you
Like springs first showers encouraging flowers to bloom
Cultivating my soil, your nourishment is consumed
I long for the taste of you
Like being drawn to your flame like a moth to a fire
Mesmerized by your flames
It’s a burning desire
I long for the taste of you
Like missing you before your gone and hoping that you’ll stay
Like smelling the sweetness of your skin
Even when your miles away
I long for the taste of you
Like reaching a never ending, peak of ecstasy
Like felling your love deep inside me
I long for the taste of you
Like looking into your eyes as you look back into mine
When we make love it’s always as precious as our first time
Like the calm after the storm when our bodies intertwine.
That’s why
I long for the touch, for the taste
For the your presence
For the essence of you
Tonight the golden glow of stars and the crescent moon's silver light are far more beautiful than mankind has the right to behold. The Creator, with loving kindness, illuminates the darkness of the night sky with celestial brilliance.
flickering colors
aurora borealis
dancing northern lights
Nature's palette paints pastel hues of peach each dawn, and lavender veils in the sky at dusk. Our eyes are awed by Autumn's gifts as leaves wear coats of many colors. Scarlet, cinnamon, russet, and all shades in between, tumble from branches onto the ground.
glimmering sunrise
dimming light in twilight skies
leaves in Autumn's breeze
Fields of heather and blue bonnets in bloom give off their scents of sweet perfume. A redwood tree soaring high, is the perfect place for an eagle's nest. These visions I behold and thank God for giving mankind such an array of wondrous things.
waterfalls cascade
love songs of a meadowlark
nature on display
It's all kept in check with a balance at His command. Tides ebb and flow, dew quenches the thirst of flora and fauna, the sun spreads its warmth over the land, and a deluge quells deserts and plains after a drought.
waves crash on the beach
cactus blooms in desert sands
harmony in life
August 23, 2020
Let the Pens Flow - Haibun Contest
Sponsored by: Jenish Somadas
I felt the flow of Summer's balmy breeze
as it wafted in whispers like sweet melodies
We walked on golden sands at twilight,
holding hands as day drifted into dusk.
I was savoring memories of
cherished moments we share.
Tonight, resplendent roseate skies
fill my eyes with their color,
but a bit of melancholy crept in
and unconsciously my steps slowed.
He felt my hesitation and in concern,
he held me close in his arms and said,
"What is that makes you so sad?
I can see it in the mists of your eyes."
Tears flowed as I fought to explain
the pain I'd feel in my heart if we drifted apart.
I stammered the words but got them out,
"We fell in love and vowed it would be for life
but even mountains of stone can break.
How would I live with that heartache?"
He rested his chin on top of my head
and held me tighter to stop my trembling.
Then, he said the most beautiful sentiments
I'd ever heard...
"Whether in this life or another,
no matter the realm we might be,
I promise I will find you beyond the stars,
searching every corner of ebony skies.
On moonlight's path I would swiftly sail
beseeching her to guide my way to you.
You will never be beyond my reach,
for only your kisses sate my hunger...
and only your love quenches my thirst."
He turned me to face the fading sun
as it slowly sank into the skyline.
Pointed his finger in that direction
and whispered near my ear...
"Do you see far out on the horizon,
where the sky drifts into the sea?"
If ever we're torn apart, look for me there.
I'll be a ripple on the water
or a glimmer of stardust in the sky,
searching for you until we're together again.
Have no fear of love's lament, for
our love was meant to last forever."
The moon's reflection shimmered on the sea
as he brushed his lips across mine in a fashion
that made passion's heat rise in my heart.
Each beat crashing as a wave upon the shore...
Beneath flickering stars, we stood side by side
swaying with the ebb and flow of evening tide.
Aries Soul
Mischievous flint spark
razes lethargy’s prison
igniting joy’s fuse.
Leo Soul
Rich roaring campfire
radiant warmth draws attention
confidence blazing.
Sagittarius Soul
Long-tended embers
spawn dazzling wisdom flashes
endlessly glowing
Capricorn Soul
White gleaming marble
proud solid stability
structural beauty.
Taurus Soul
Lavish lilac shrub
broadcasting sensual delight
exudes comfort.
Virgo Soul
Majestic maple
limbs' crimson remnants swept clean
prepared for new growth.
Libra Soul
Sleeping lover’s breath
passion’s rhythm synchronized
harmony complete.
Aquarius Soul
Fresh pine-mountain air
clears celestial vision
connections revealed
Gemini Soul
Frolicsome breeze
swirling dance unencumbered
transports wisdom’s seeds
Cancer Soul
Soft persistent rain
quenches fragile seedling’s thirst
nurtures flowering
Scorpio Soul
Ancient cavern pool
envelops secret demons
guards Pandora’s box
Pisces Soul
Still midnight lagoon
shimmers cosmic buoyancy
atop deep pure peace.
Forest fires rage
Seed kernels burst from their cage
Rain quenches – Seeds sprout
Your captivating sonnet, a single verse then
two, the words I write seem not quite right
compared to the ones from you
I've often used too many, and consume your
point of view, your ability to say so much
by using just a few
Thank you Mr. Shakespeare for a friend I met
today, because of you she's come from many
miles away. I frolic in your descriptions
of each and every noun, as each verse bursts
and like a poor beggar, quenches my thirst
I thank Mr. Poe for his stories of woe that
deeply stirs my raven soul, coercing the
sadness out of the quills, convincing me that
time kills, love heals, color spills…
I begin to write my single verse, that
might turn into two, I savor a rarest gift,
the one that came from you. I take a turn,
my desire’s to please, but discover as I
write the poem, the poetry writes me
Karen Anglesey 2002
Evil unmasks within Night's embrace;
assured that no one can see its face.
And patrons of darkness clap with joy,
applauding the tricks, tricksters employ.
In the darkest shadows of the Night:
a vampire's kiss morphs into a bite.
And as blood splatters the edge of time,
desire and eternity combine.
Two immortal hearts now beat as one:
merging, in the shadow of the sun.
And consummate their union with blood:
consumed in an emotional flood.
Sweet ecstasy, distilled from the dark:
quenches raw desires; primal and stark.
And befitting creatures of the Night:
silhouettes morph into bats in flight.
I sit and pause, looking at the sky blue ceiling above me. White vapour cotton wool clouds
gently float like water lilies on an upside down pond. My humble seat, an igneous rock
from the Devonian period. A glaciation past has moulded this comfort to rest this weary
climber. I am in fortunate delight as this skyscraper of old can turn nasty with nature.
These marvels can unite and lure unsuspected hikers, and draw them into a weather world
they have never known. The gulley's and faces of this quite wonderful Munro hide
challenges and dangers for all who dare climb. Many have been lost as they become
disorientated, as natures weather closes in.
The ascent route to the summit on a day like today is quite wonderful. The beauty of the
glens, with their sporadic mix of andesite and basaltic lava mountains, rival many a range
on our fine planet. Many colours explode on the surrounding canvas. Greens and beige's,
greys mingling with red granite masses. Screes are in evidence, a sign of the range ageing
as natures seasons take their toll. Plant life carpets the slopes, where grasses of sorts
mingle with the purple and white heather. Ferns from a prehistoric age fan out catching
the breeze, like Sea´ ferns´ in the ocean.
As i climbed, at various intervals i would close my eyes and listen to the calls of the
wild. The sporadic bleating of sheep, as if echoing through the glens. Crows and their
hooded cousins fly sorties looking for carrion of such. Suddenly they scatter, as royalty
makes a welcomed appearance. As majestic as the King of the mountains can be, a Golden
Eagle glides on the thermals. His subjects looking on from a distance, for fear of
angering him. Rabbits, lizards and even sheep and lambs, bow down in whatever chambers of
safety allows them. As graceful as he arrived, he leaves. Slowly but slowly, the lookouts
of the species declare their haven a safe zone.
This climb has certainly given me a thirst, as the thinned mountain air leaves me tired.
Nearby a small stream offers a weary climber a much needed tonic. This pure fresh
translucent chemical substance quenches my crave, with a gentle splash over my sun beaten
face, i feel refreshed to a point.
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