Best Reach A Peak Poems


Premium Member Chime Of Meditation

Lithesome steps lead me to an ancient 
 temple 
Perched across a bay, weeds and 
  hyacinths curl between my feet, 
Where mist refills bowl of cotton clouds 
As rustling breeze ascends on skyline's ladder.
 In stillness, I lounge on the pew to whisper unsaid psalmic devotions
 for a world which aches for calmer  
 retreat-- 
That I reach a peak where the mind 
  becomes absent-- 
Then I hear them , a medley of peals
 Lifting me higher in regulated tempo from gong 
 rhythms, 

A music swelling in warm temperance Until warm kiln of light and radiant 
  fireflies stir my kundalini.
On this treasured moment, a sentient 
  energy 
Cleanses  my beingness from  past sins -- mortal and venial-

 That I listen to the clang of my inner child's soft echoes entering my veins:

 Somewhere in blank spaces, bells swing of 
   innocent laughter...a treble,
   a clap 
   bringing me to the kindness of youth,

 And my body stays quiet, welcoming this rite of 
  passage on days when the spirit calls for an 
      interlude's break...a meditative
 connection with 
      the self--
      without the need to speak.
Form: Imagism

Premium Member Pinnacle

PINNACLE

With a piggyback of hopes and dreams, I set forth to reach a peak.

Along bed of roses, rocks and tall sharp weeds, I harvested golden grains of progress. The days and nights rang a wake-up kiss on my head. They told me: "Move on, move on...Don't ever give up..."

There are rainy days on the way. A rain shower teased my climb halting me for awhile. Some so strong, I faltered - gained some wounds. Some directly stabbed my heart. And somehow, sometimes they even knocked my very soul. Although tough thunder tremors shook me, I fought hard to stand still continuing my climb. 

Each height I step onto, I came to know moon and stars. Some of them began a war with me. Some of them a veil of fraud. But blessing, most have shed a continuing guiding light.  Some hugged me. And wanted me to stay but some pushed and pressured me until I am all like a dripping sponge. 

The potpourri situations brought  me: a ladder closer to our God. His faithfulness and unfailing love a durable adhesive to my persistence and dreams.

A rainbow after each rain drew a promise of sun-kissed days. They melted the cold lonely years away. They permitted me a walk and run to heavenly meadows. Finally, I reached the pinnacle where grins a forever familiar tale.


(c) Olive Eloisa
2:07pm
October 01. 2012

Mothers Day

Mothers Day
The second Sunday every May
I think of someone I hold dear
She made me what I am today
A day of tribute to her life

I think of someone I hold dear
Despite the time she was in pain
She cared for me through sun and rain
but there was fun and candy bars

She made me what I am today
To reach a peak I that I strove for
And make her proud of me once more
To carry on no matter what

A day of tribute to her life
To all the mothers who knew strife
And pledged their life to all their kin
Remember Mom on Mothers Day

Shall We Retourne Contest

Debbi Guzzi  October 18, 2015


Bad Dreams

Bad Dreams

To write another poem, I now do propose
But how long before the words decompose
And maybe my style be required to change
Being that current one seems so strange.

If I am to be a Master Poet and Planner
How long and wide must be my banner
And much tanner I may have to be
When I wore a bikini to see most of me.

How about numbers game we should be playing
In our poems, you and my age start displaying
And when is it required that you be an antique?
Before your poems stand out and reach a peak.

Finally:

Read my poems, people will cease, desist and dread,
Caused bad dreams when they were asleep in bed.
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

Benny's Mountain

Did you soften the rocks under our feet?
Create a breeze to lessen the heat?
To help us reach a peak way up in the sky.
Did you want your mother nearby?

Did you drop a white feather to show you were near?
Loving stories told of your life - did you hear?
We followed your mother's courageous tracks
Could we carry the weight of her grief on our backs?

Did you pull us all up to see what you see?
A world so open, where spirits fly free
At such a great height with a breathtaking view
Your mum's searching eyes only saw you.

At she turned to descend, head held with such poise
Did we hear you laughing with other small boys?
With them, we hoped you turned away first
Goodbyes and I-love-you's, gently dispersed

And though those peaks will be climbed by so many
That mountain will always be yours, sweetest Benny.
Form: Ballad

Listen To Paul's Plea

LISTEN TO PAUL'S PLEA
"I will pay it back, not to mention that you owe me your very self." Philemon 19

What do I owe,
So many are in line.
My country first,
Or neighbors who are mine?

Perhaps my family only,
Deserves my debt.
Maybe friends do not matter,
My mind will not be set.

An obligation is a virtue,
Or perhaps it is a vice.
It tasks the soul to answer,
A solution would be nice.

Man owes more than service,
His fortune and his gold.
To the God who gave him life,
He owes his very soul.

We are under solemn promise,
To those whom we love.
We are brought together,
By Our Father up above.

We gather debt in life,
For the many things we seek.
Not required for well being,
Our wants never reach a peak.

We then owe more,
Than we can repay.
Stress and trials in our life,
Until another day.

If obligations must control,
Our life every day.
Let it be to our God,
Get on our knees and pray.

RAYMOND V. MORGAN

thank you Robert Hinshaw for the encouragement.


Quiet Times

quiet times while lost in deep syes,imagination
                             forces me to wonder off with waves of an ocean.

                             will I ever see you again? never thought the stories
                             we read together would come to "the end" even though chapters
                             are as long as years , I've  lost you within the blink of
                              a moment.
                              
                               where do I go from here when trust is now excluded
                                from the mathematical equation?
                                
                                 I once gave you my sacrifices. I once gave you my heart
                                    and then I once believed you was the woman for all along 
                                    that I was waiting.

                                  moving on feels like moving mountains.
                                  for you I was willing to reach a peak but with her,
                                   ice caps always became a waters fountain.
© Mark Brown  Create an image from this poem.
Form: ABC

My Home

My Home

An era where I spent my time at Home
when I knew youth and spent it with my folks
who labored to present me in the world
and nutured me to giant step without fear
but through it all they garnished me with love
our furniture was leather bound and strong
I likened it to the time that I grew bold
to reach a peak in life where I extolled
and then we met one day and shared our love
as if to say by magic she appeared
a metamorpohisis and then we changed
like nomads of lore we traveled the lands
and never a place to call our domain
a Home I knew that may longer be
but home is in my heart when you’re with me

My Home Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Lu Loo
August 13, 2019

Yes My Love, This Is Romance

Encompassed in solitude was I when we met, 
then you began tracing my barren silhouette.
You said, “sweetheart, don’t you ever fret”,
and gave me an adoring life I shan’t ever forget.
     For when mounts crumble it’s you I hold near, 
     YES MY LOVE, before you that solitude I did fear. 

You rush chills down my aching spine with ease.
I sense your touch in the crisp Autumn breeze.
When we touch you bring me to my knees,
and you touch my nape…tickle a tiny tease.
     Before time existed, you were meant to be mine, 
     YES MY LOVE, you rush chills down my aching spine.

You reach a peak in me no one else ever could, 
and by my side through storms you have stood. 
I honestly never thought anyone else ever would
try to comprehend this woman so misunderstood. 
     So to you I give one kiss and close my weary eyes, 
     YES MY LOVE, you reach a peak to heaven’s skies.

You envelope me in God’s perpetual loving bliss.
Make my heart resound in lyrics of hope’s abyss. 
If I said one thing to you it would be just this, 
I love you more than life, don’t ever go amiss. 
     For I cannot live without you forever and a day,
     YES MY LOVE, in God’s perpetual bliss is where we lay.


             Before you that solitude I did fear,
             and now angel choirs my soul does hear. 
                       You rush chills down my aching spine,
                       I’m so grateful that you are really mine. 
        You reach a peak to heaven’s skies, 
        take off my veil, release my disguise. 
                             In God’s perpetual bliss is where we lay,
                             YES MY LOVE, I adore you...is all I can say. 



Date: October 2, 2018
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Only Love Can Defeat Hate

Better things are on the way.
This goal comes from the heart.

It depends straightforward of your array.
Utter how genuine the sparks are to impart.

Evoke positive remarks over the life tray.
Believe you will reach a peak; be smart.

Bestow blessings at home every day.
Relish your day's blessings not being apart.

Note how your bones crack and decay.
Every day, the sun rises as the day starts.

Assist people grieving with little sway.
Rays dazzle with dazzling praise and darts.

Always strain to forecast for the coming day.
A stern warning of the following song's art

This planet will surely sing and play.
Accept slight setbacks, don't throw hope chart.

Written: December 2nd, 2022
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

Mothers Day

Mothers Day
The second Sunday every May
I think of someone I hold dear
She made me what I am today
A day of tribute to her life

I think of someone I hold dear
Despite the time she was in pain
She cared for me through sun and rain
but there was fun and candy bars

She made me what I am today
To reach a peak that I desired
And make her proud of me once more
To carry on no matter what

A day of tribute to her life
To all the mothers who knew strife
And pledged their life to all their kin
Remember Mom on Mothers Day
©Ralph Sergi
Form: Quatern

The Body of a Man

I am strong, but around you I get weak,
Whenever my heart starts to beat too fast,
After remembering a lonely past,
Or whenever my eyes begin to leak.
When part of me begins to reach a peak,
I try to hide the rising of the mast,
Before the measurement becomes too vast.
A measurement, of which, I can not speak.
When around you, I lose complete control
Of all of the functions that I hold dear.
Your pressence seems to only play one role,
Like kryptonite, whenever you are near.
Because the thought of you starts to console,
I accept it without a sense of fear.

Crush

It’s the end of the year 
Tings are coming to a wrap 
So I decided it’s not time to hold anything back
I never saw myself telling you this 
So Ima just get it over and done with
Every now and then I gaze at you on the low 
I do it at the most random time so no will know 
I make you hit me just to feel your touch
And just recently my feelings for you expanded so much
I make dumb comments to have a reason to talk to you 
I tried to make my childish games a clue to you 
Who would a thought my emotions would reach a peak this high
And being your kind of my friend is probably the reason why
Bottom line is I like you and that’s a fact 
Just thought you should you know
You aint gotta like me back 

		-Omar Whittington #4
Form:

Premium Member A Poor, Wayfaring Man of Grief, Part 4

A poor, wayfaring man of grief, has shared his truth with me,
For he has walked the winding road of life's great mystery,
Behold, the man, the truth at last, is ready to be shared,
His message is for one and all, his banquet is prepared.

The happiness, that people seek, is not a faster pace,
Our emptiness, may reach a peak, without a plaster face,
The truth is not a new belief, or some mythology,
A poor, wayfaring man of grief, is very real to me.

Yet happiness, is common, in a craven sort of clash,
The natural man, rejects the plan, but not the petty cash,
And those who build a fortune, are the breed of our success,
For those who need a portion, have to bleed for happiness.

For happiness is how we care, a sacrifice for good,
A sumptuous feast that we prepare, by living as we should,
A by-product of our success, in what we say and do,
A  blessing in the way we bless, our friends and neighbors too.

But by-products are not the aim, the purpose that we share,
Fulfillment is the greater good, the reason that we care,
If money is the welcome mat, a portal people seek,
Then happiness is growing fat, a flavor of the week.

So here we are, and here it is, the purpose of a man,
And happiness, though good for us, is still an also-ran,
The purpose of humanity, collectively, I know,
Is feed the soul with kindness and with love to make it grow.

For this reward of loving, is the quality of joy,
And joy is the fulfillment of the gifts that we employ,
Happiness is fleeting but our joy goes on and on,
Like morning dew is fading, but the green is on the lawn.

A poor, wayfaring man of grief, has taught these truths to me,
The sun and moon and stars above are less than even He,
I know him for the one he is by how he makes me feel,
For even when I slip and fall I know his love is real.
Form: Rhyme

Rescue From a Nightmare

He swims in a dreamy, 
sluggish, swirling world
that seems to precede 
all that there has been
in all his waking hours.

There, only the memory 
of her ever trusting face
guides him and sees him 
throughout  the random
flux of all there will be.

In the void of the unknown
his own deep-seated fears
soar high, reach a peak,
echo as a scared shriek, 
fading off as mute panic.

He wakes up at the touch
of soft fingers on his cheek.
Her whisper assures him.
Ashamed, he hides his face
in the warmth of her embrace.


.

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