Best Rare Poems
To me it's always been crystal clear
my emerald heart sheds tear after tear
Intense, easy to emote
it's to love I devote
His golden flakes beat in me like needs
I fill my lungs string him in like beads
As rare as four leaf clovers - we are for real
I must bare my heart for him to also feel
Standing looking across sweeping thoughts and hopes
alone crying into distant faraway hills and valleys
dreaming I saw before me a big white puff of smoke
Drifting low circling from out of chimneys pots high
slowly moving creeps inner vision dancing with me
candy floss happily towards the glen sweet aroma scent
Scenting turf fires the nostrils with wild scent upon air as
a sun melting her warm fingers into one's back soothing
pure in a baby blue clear sky setting, rising high feelings
Upon a cool caressing Autumn breeze Mother Nature
arrives with songbirds singing sweet clearly with echoes
and most beautiful tunes carried ever so gently in the air
Within a quite stillness silently whispers gasp and cry
splitting down the middle a teardrop falls always slowly
in love with this forever dream, and to the end sighs
Standing on the edge of a pretty crystal cool blue pond
while watching the presence of beautiful fairy elves
and their most wonderful laughs and smiles so ever true
Smelling the wonderful aroma of pure mountain air
with that assured feeling the all is fresh, crisp, real
and flowers, plants, and grass talking to one another
Dreaming many perfect dreams of mermaids sitting
grouped in a green water pool at the waterfall’s edge
and sensing their joy, beauty, laughter, and smiles
This is what dreams are made of as we sense and see
most wondrous things and objects of perfect symmetry
as we feel mountain rain and a most delicious soft wind
Mother Nature and her magical world of treasures and
such beauty indeed make all gods of centuries past and
present stand up and applaud graciously our Dreaming One
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (November 20, 2014)
(Terza Rima in Unrhymed Tercet poetic format)
Next item up for bid, a rare coin of mine
Is one 1894 s silver Liberty dime
Only 24 of these coins were minted that year
That is, in San Francisco, let me be clear
In case anyone here has a thought to purloin
We have guards and cameras on this valuable coin
It's merely speculation why so few were minted
The fact is, that's all, they permitted
The superintendent gave most to banker friends
But three were given to his daughter to spend
She spent one on ice cream, the other two she saved
After that,there whereabouts weren't written on page
The chances of you seeing another one like this
Couldn't be calculated on one hundred abacuses
This perfect coin is the best ever seen
And the last one that sold went for two million green
If you've deep pockets, want to impress your friends
My rare silver dime must surely make you grin
For two million I'd say, "Going once" at that price
But now 2.5 million I'd say, "Going twice"
Anything over that I would gladly let it go
Pay three million right now and I'll holler, "SOLD"
By Daniel Turner
we merge ...
I, rooted in your core
grinding up as you press down, never deep enough
supine, you on knees above, I reach up
weaving my fingers through silken strands
I guide your head gently down toward me, moondrops in your eyes
sweet tresses fall between us as our mouths melt together
tongues playing their own game, soft like bubblegum
I swim up the river to your soul
to that place indescribable, warm and dark
we are so melded that I almost feel alone ... lonely
but in the sense of being US, and one
I could let go my spirit there ...
without fear or regret or contemplation
I could stay forever on those shores, in joy
lost in our union and ethereal embrace
but it is far, far too precious for those ends
exquisite and rare for the sake of how momentary
and blessed for the sake of how perfect
how tenderly and passionately ... perfect.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Brian's Select 1, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Favorite Poem From Last Week" Poetry Contest, Lu Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
One rare night
fell
midnight blue
as a multitude of stars, like lofty thoughts,
pulsed with light,
confessions from
the depths of twilight’s essence - sky.
The poetess, ensconced in her small room,
reached down
deep inside
her soul of indigo.
Immersed in the profusion of her thoughts,
she felt compelled tonight
to search for only those that shone. . .
Ignoring a collage of ideas
which summoned disillusionment
or inspired remembrances
of bitterness and pain,
she moved a pen across a journal page.
Words upon words radiant with hope
began to flow. . .
As eventual as the overtaking of
the poetess’ rare night by morning’s dawn,
completion of her work had now arrived.
Surprised to be so pleased,
the poetess discovered that all the while
she had been
delineating stars.
3/3/2011
For Mark Toney's the '2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22' Poetry Contest
Golden rays filter through rustling red leaves
Oscillating fall colors to rhythms of evening
Amid sounds exotic as animals roam freely
Deep into wilderness, where rare birds sing,
Where trees groove merrily to musical winds,
Whirling, weaving motifs of autumnal glee;
While leisurely they stroll, exulting playfully,
Exchanging stolen looks of notions romantic,
Divulging, without words, secret love-missives
Lying dormant, yet simmering for some time,
Virgin passions strumming enamored minds
Revealing now openly, fervent beats of life.
“Oh! how I wish” she says, “to live in a cabin,
lingering timelessly, savoring realm pristine,
of blazing autumn prairies, burbling streams,
wandering to spring reveling your company;”
As moonlit vibes sparkle, love in bashful eyes,
Rejoicing first-ever kiss, blissful in paradise.
January 3, 2023
Placed 7th: Feel Free Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
“Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” Owens, Delia. Where the Crawdads Sing.
Based on quote 7 above.
Break these chains that bind
holding in the deep ovens
blazing a fire for love.
Smiling midday moon
dressed in a baby blue sky
with sparsely scattered clouds dot.
White mother of pearl
their silver lining treasure
held soft beautiful warm babe.
In her finger beams
a light touching inside thoughts
sitting posed at three o’clock.
The moon just pops out
in kissing a golden sun
white ivory pearls smiling.
Within daylight thoughts
sweetly I pray in sunlight
shining warm all over you.
Deep ocean salted
with the bluest warmest waves
luster smiles sunshine color.
The magic tear drop
forms the silver lining bright
and cries for ivory pearls.
Alchemic water
wondrous most blue, dark and rare
lies love in Salt of the Earth.
Mermaids caress hope
encouraging happiness
makes all the more magical.
Pearl chain links in place
Neptune commands do it now
with finest gold most smiling.
Bathed best and brightest
white ivory pearls ready
for their concatenation.
Neptune’s grandeur finds
all sea creatures in awe now
abounds pearl dreams of rare love.
Pearl Dreams of Rare Love
14 linked all so precious
from the ocean’s heart and soul.
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (November 16, 2014)
(Terza Rima in Unrhymed Tercet poetic format)
Rare Cooking This Fine Morn
To have deep-thoughts, dreams a poet slowly eats
Or spiced casseroles of ink-piggy feats?
Meals written on yellow paper to enjoy.
Chinese fried rice with steamed adjective soy!
Experience new dishes, of rare flavor
Spread like butterfly wings upon glazed ham.
Pour tasty hot liquid words to thus savor
Bluebird wings sprinkled in blackberry jam!
What ? No essays, delightful adverb desserts?
No pans of Poe-like raven-baked pies
Yes! And add in boiled rhymes and magpie tales
Booming baked echoes of Mobydick whales!
What next? Fiction, tasty mysterious spurts?
With deep fried fish and red-button from shirts.
What taste? Tonight toasted Spanish serenade
With sweetest Sangria spice red Kool-Aid!
To have deep-thoughts, dreams a poet slowly eats
Or spiced casserole of ink-piggy feats?
Meals written on yellow paper to enjoy.
Chinese fried rice with steamed adjective soy!
Robert J. Lindley
Rhyme, Lin 10/11
Syllable count
11 10 11 10 0 11 10 11 10 0 11 10 11 10 0 11 10 11 10 0 11 10 11 10
Total # Syllables: 223
Total # Words: 146
Note, a Lindley family tradition, I cook the last day of the old year..
I've already completed breakfast and got the idea to cook up something on paper..
Lunch is running a bit late...
I cook but no hurry, is my motto.
This coin depicting a head of man with laurel
is a rare treasure from the American History,
as an auctioneer I could sell it for a large
sum of money: its estimated price is over
two-thousand-dollars, it shows it was minted
in eighteen-ninety-four, come forward and bid!
I found it among pennies I saved for rainy days,
there must be at least four thousand of them;
my collection includes contemporary silver dollars,
many generations must pass to accumulate value...
any other collector would action them any day!
I jealously hold onto them to own a piece of History:
how they glitter in glass cases on my walls!
I may donate them to the American History
Museum in Manhattan and see them on display!
Many auctioneers would love to get hold of my silver coin,
their mind is set solely on greed, not thinking of its history
which can unravel fascinating details about of its minting process;
the unknown artisan was very skilled in itching date and image
on both sides to testify the greatness and wealth of this nation,
but Americans don't realize that they are very wealthy indeed!
Blackness Engulfs Rare Beauty Whose Soft Heart There Holds
Blackness engulfs rare beauty whose soft heart there holds
she that pretty flowers envy yet still dare to adorn.
Emerging as a rare butterfly from cocoon's deep folds,
her light will grace all and never her heart be torn.
As darkness seeks its wrapping gulf of shrouded gloom,
her beautiful glow breaks upon dawn's sweetest light .
Dark clouds can not give their wretched pain and sad doom,
for her pure soul radiates greater than the darkest night.
Such loveliness shines even in the simplest of her rooms.
Robert J. Lindley, 4-16-2016
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 12 14 14 12 0 12 12 12 14 14
Total # Syllables: 116
Total # Lines: 10 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 88
like a grumpy ogre the twisted old tree stood guard
notched scraggy boughs reached out in fierce surety
naught had ever compromised its task
in its dutiable charge
the primeval stone held fast the blade
proud and righteous Caliburn
its hilt pointed to the stars
the enchanted issue of Merlin's resolve
and steadfast keeper of the kingdom
thankless was the old tree's post
none would e'er recall its name
no eye would shed a salty drip to its end
nay an honored oath spoken to its passing
still it stood
through the countless sad losses
when the Wee Ones would die in autumn
such beautiful quiet deaths
falling in color to the forest carpet
one soft exquisite flight to their end
each one by itself
each one dear to the old tree
still it stood fearless and proud
for it alone would be the first to witness
it alone would hear the whisper of the wind
when it breathed the name of the new king
when it heralded the name of freedom to the world
when The One slipped the blade from its surly bonds
and the ancient stone split in righteous temper
knife and knight
blade and banneret
Caliburn and king!
like a grumpy ogre the twisted old tree
stood guard
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Unsheathe Your Sword" Poetry Contest
John Lawless, Judge & Sponsor.
* This poem is written in "Suzette Prime", (created by a PS member), which consists of lines of prime number syllable counts ONLY, no punctuation or capitalizations, and only of topics which lend themselves to a philosophical statement. *
~~~~
He wandered far from the well trodden path
into the forest dense. Tall trees, that spread
under a canopy of gold and green,
allowed the late afternoon sun to pierce
the tiny gaps between the foliage.
Reflecting shafts of milky white vapour
like heavenly arrows of silken gauze
arising way beyond the highest tree.
The air was silent, only nature breathed.
The man sat down beside a grassy knoll
his body resting on the gentle slope.
Unburdened by the cares of day, he slept.
~~~~
Margaret Foster
Written. 3rd September 2014
A blue so blue appeared in the sky
purer than the blue of a maiden's eye
Poking a hole through puff-clouds billowy white
its majesty moving those who prize sight
I wonder if it knows, as I marvel in awe
at its beauty so rare, no unperceived flaw
Or is its struggle to emerge so all-consuming
naivete yet untarnished ~ pristine, unassuming
You are a poet, your words form a poetry,
You are a magician, you have magic in your authenticity,
You are an artist, I adore your life's artistry,
You are perfect, your imperfections shape your existence with clarity,
You are courageous, I take pride in your bravery,
You are kind, I bow before your heart of charity,
You are a happy soul, I will always love you heartly,
You are rare, I worship you in austerity.
K.S.Lakshmi
With eyelids shut, old boyfriends of mine kissed
my lips unwhetted, so it’s no surprise
to me the romance in my life I missed
because so many guys just close their eyes.
Those men who pressed like wolves, eyes always closed,
cared not to understand or love my heart.
While making out with them, I nearly dozed!
How rare must be the man who knows the art
of looking long with gaze unwavering
and softly brushing mouth against the cheek,
who gently teases in his savoring
as only eyes and tracing fingers speak.
How sweet the magic seldom loosed in me
by those few gents who simply knew to see.
Sonneteer55/ Dec. 23, 2011
Using my yahoo pseudonym for the "S"
of Sonnet form.
For David Williams' "Romance" Poetry Contest