Best Quiet Poems
It is quiet tonight.
The only sound is coming from
the soft murmur of the television set.
I don't know why I don't just put it on mute.
I don't want to hear what they have to say,
but I guess it is better than the sound
of silence which is deafening.
It hurts my ears, it hurts my heart.
Yesterday I was happy, but that was before,
before I stepped into the dark abyss.
I think I may have been pulled in
by the apathy of death.
Death has such long arms.
I won't ask why, I know everyone must die.
But you left on a happy day, a day we were
making plans, and I had hope,
hope that we still had time,
time to share those plans.
You made me laugh until I cried that day,
and then death swooped in
and took it all away.
It is so quiet tonight.
© Connie Marcum Wong
8-27-16
August 10, 2016 Poem of the Day
Another quiet Saturday night...
the silence is deafening
as I sit alone lost in my thoughts.
I feel a chill in the air...
raindrops are gently tapping
against the window panes of my heart
like teardrops gently falling from heaven.
I hear soft sounds…
in the background music is playing
muted notes of faded melodies
as my thoughts drift through
the muted dreams of our faded love.
My mind wanders back in time...
recalling summer nights so long ago
when only the August moon
knew of the passions we shared,
passions forever etched
in the memories of my mind.
I look around the room...
seeing only shadows of ghosts
cast upon the walls of my dreams
in the stillness of this lonely night.
I wonder if…
you are also lost in the silence of
another quiet Saturday night.
October 1, 2020
Poem of the Day - October 2, 2020
It is quiet now
-the sun moves up the ridge
Honey crisp scent of freedom
-hovers and engulfs the air
Pangs of pleasure peal
-the primrose bows her head
Yellow paints the morning
-the fields are all aglow
It's a little too quiet now,
I can no longer hear his voice.
And yet, the sound of his laughter
echoes throughout my thoughts and dreams.
He died; his soul is in heaven:
it's a little too quiet now.
And all that I took for granted,
morphed into precious memories.
His tearful goodbye broke my heart:
inside, I heard myself screaming.
It's a little too quiet now:
and the silence is deafening.
I pray to a merciful God;
to let me see him again, soon.
I'm used to hearing his heartbeat:
it's a little too quiet now.
When I was down in the dumps
I longed to be away from the din of the world
And a quiet place I sought
Nature has always been my refuge
Amid the clump of trees where the wind caresses the leaves
Where birds twitter and trill their songs
Like a hermit I sat, my eyes closed, my body lazing
My mind, open to the soft vibrations around
I took a deep breath inhaling the fragrance of flowers
And let the quietude envelop my being
Gliding through the layers of my consciousness
Dancing to the beats of my inner symphony
I let myself swim in the ocean of stillness
I felt the tranquil touch of an unseen presence
I heard a caring voice from somewhere
A faint voice quite reassuring, so near
Within me the wider Life emerged
And the lesser life finally submerged
I experienced true joy within
Peace filled, drowning all my tribulations
And I knew it was heaven sent!
_________________________________
.19.2022
A Quiet Place Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
The Girl with The Quiet Voice
One of many children
Somehow she was hard to hear
She still craves just a bit of attention
Just a simple “Thank you dear”
A little girl in a photo
From the bottom of the stack
I looked into her eyes
and with sadness she looked back
Years don’t seem to matter
Home still doesn’t feel like home
It’s hard being with all the others
When you feel like you’re alone
Still that little girl in the photo
From the bottom of the stack
You wish you didn’t crave his affection
But you do and that’s a fact
You give of yourself freely
Prepare his table and his chair
The gift of a loving daughter
Yet somehow he can’t see you there
So you pick up your own photo
Place it in a pocket near your breast
You’ll honour those sad eyes
In your heart you know what’s best
For dear girl you are born of power
With deities you have been
You have journeyed upon mountains
Within the universe you are seen
A little girl in a photo
Look closely and watch her smile
On a fridge where you can see her
Just be with her for a while.
Dedicated to my friend.
My choice for Caren’s Your Choice contest
The maracas of leafy trees
whisper rhythms to the wind,
a quiet song of December.
Four days---- left to go---
till the year ends,
and time spills forward,
its hands brushing past us,
softly, relentless.
You and I,
counting moments,
the weight of years
settling like dew-----light, inevitable
somethings are done, a lot many left undone
but the ceaseless march of time moves forward.
But here in the enchanting garden,
under the sun’s gentle gaze,
age is a story written in roots and petals,
a bench painted green with memories
What is there to grieve,
when old feels like this-----
and life hums softly
in the company of trees?
She came to me in the noon day sun..
her world wistful, longing for an unsung quiet.
But I would not remain still, nor silent,
though her hours in life, never meant for long.
Desperately I grasped her up in loving embrace..
And in her arms cried, please let her remain!
I offered myself in sacrifice to assuage,
but enchanted sirens called sweetly, come.,
and left me alone on an empty stage.
~
If on this eve of glistened skies
when crystal snowflakes fall
Amidst the hush of tempered sighs
where heartbeat whispers call
Your mind is lost another place
as moonbeams dance above
In wishes that you long to trace
of visions filled with love
Remember as the evening nears
and stars reflect your smile
Within the shimmered light appears
in winter’s mystic style
Another who does feel the same
beyond horizons clear
In quiet breaths he sings your name
in hopes that you will hear
One who longs you by his side
as nighttime breezes sift
In harmonies sent to confide,
melodic thoughts adrift
So listen as these flurries flow
and in your heart believe
There is a man who sings of you
this snowflake glistened eve
~
I told no one I'd seen the night—
how tension breached a sunset start,
how sea had swallowed all the light.
I told no one
the world is glass—a whale is art,
this frame of sky its ancient right,
it plays each game the same—by heart.
Still moment's pulse too wide to try
resuscitation, CPR—
now all that's left to gain, insight
I told no one.
(5)
You speak into your child's life in whispers
With the strength of the four winds
No need for yelling
For your child has expectant ears
Wisdom
A fathered gift
Born out of pained understanding
Mistakes not needed to be repeated
Your love an inoculation to failure
Resilience will permeate a new generation
You smile with furrowed brow
For time passes much to quickly
There is fear there is some lesson you have forgotten
Not what you want for your begotten
Still you see this precious ones progression
He possess strength laughter and compassion
Humored moments and strong funny bones
Will insure this child will never be alone
A tender heart and a will like a stone
One day
You will have to let go
Time progresses it never slows
Deep inside your heart grows because you know
You have given your all
This child will rise up tall
Won't be afraid to fall
He heeds your Father's call
For he has learned at your loving feet
Wisdom has been his bountiful feast
Some day he'll be a father too
He'll bring blessings back to you
For you have been faithful
and a father true
Inspired by Funom's poem, "Words of Wisdom to My Child".
Caress
With breathy voice
Undress
Your kiss
Upon my mind
Is bliss
Take all
Upon your bed
I fall
For Nette's Whispers of a Muse contest
By Richard Lamoureux
Written November 26th
My peaceful place beside this sapphire lake,
As reflections take on a deep dark blue,
Soft snow sprinkled peaks where my dreams awake
Of the distant mountains through misty view.
My friends, the towering evergreen trees,
A cynosure of strength they lofty stand.
Their ancient heritage my heart does seize
In sylvan majesty upon this land.
As the gloaming grooms evanescent day
So sad I must leave this enchanted place,
With melancholy thoughts I drive away.
I shall return soon to this quiet place
To be with my friends of the kindred kind
Where poetry forms in a peaceful mind.
7-20-22
~9th Place Premiere Contest~
A Quiet Place Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Together we would whittle sticks while chewing juicy gum
We would find a place to rest beside a river green and wide
The skies were blue, and tall grass would grow, and brush against my knees
Where willow trees, and dusty trails and nesting squirrels would hide
With tackle box on summer days, we sat in lazy pose
With fishing poles, and cheerful hearts, in willow covered coves
It mattered not, no lad was I, ...a girl is what he got
And he seemed quite glad, to take my hand, and help me hook the bait
I'd toss it in, against the wind......and sit awhile to wait
It mattered not, if fish were caught, the waiting was our friend
The sun felt warm, his voice could charm, and worries all seemed gone
Curiosity of my tender youth, this world a puzzle, vast
I would ponder things, and pick his brain, with many questions asked
This kind old man, with gentle patience, and a quiet ear to lend
Would tweak his mustache, and kindly hear me, without a word to bend
While deep in thought, would listen well, and continue with his task
As if my words were meant to hold, and mattered more than gold
He'd try to find an answer, with his wisdom from the past
With satisfaction we would whittle sticks, yet carving so much more
When shadows fell, he'd take my hand, the young one in the old
And head back home, as sun goes down, from lazy river's shore
Those fishing holes, are idle now, too soon the autumn fell
Although I tread the shore alone, I clearly see them all
___________________________________________________________________
7/31/11
I lived in a beautiful valley, beside a quiet stream
It was a place I escaped to when I needed to dream
surrounded by the tallest mountains in the world,
so I believed when I had been an innocent little girl
Pure until he walked down from the mountain high
He came to me without a word, we stood eye to eye
His only gesture was to reach out and take my hand
with that touch, the flames in my heart were fanned.
At last, 'hello,' was but a whisper from his sensuous lips.
He brought my hand to his mouth, kissed my finger tips
and then he said that he'd watched me for many a year,
grow from a child to a woman and I had nothing to fear.
I chose to believe every word that he breathed forth.
I took his other hand in mine and we headed North.
He asked me to journey with him and share in his life
He promised to take care of me as his friend and wife
He said with me by his side, everything we would share
and that for years he'd longed to have me as his lady fair.
It didn't matter where we went or even where we slept
but after a few years, what mattered was that I wept.
I cried because his promises all proved to be untrue.
I cried because I knew there was nothing I could do.
I walked away from him and headed South on my own.
Once again I dreamed in the valley where I lived alone.
The nights were cold as I lay down on the valley floor
there was no more warmth from the man I had adored.
When I slept I always saw the mountains fade away,
not the man who came to me beside the stream that day.
My ears heard a rustling, perhaps it was just the wind
but a shadow fell over me and the sunlight was dimmed.
"Hello," was all he said before he knelt beside me there
Once again he asked if life with him would I like to share.
How long we sat and stared at each other, eye to eye,
I'd not hazard to guess, nay, I'd not even care to try.
I asked, "What have you done in the years since I left?"
He said he'd almost died from a heart sad and bereft.
Four years it had been between 'hello' and 'goodbye.'
Years spent in my valley, where I thought I would die.
He stood before me now, this mountain of a man.
I rose up to my knees and then I held out my hand.
There is a kind of love one can only capture in a dream,
But some can be revived beside quiet waters of a stream.