Best Relishes Poems
She listens to the whispering of trees
and views the dance of wind on dew kissed leaves.
Surrounded by tall silhouettes, she sees
emerging patterns as each shadow weaves
the light that lingers on extended limbs.
Green arms reach up as if to glorify
the One whose hand (as light of sun now dims)
is splashing brilliant colors onto sky.
The wood nymph relishes her tranquil home,
the night owl's hoot, and soothing sounds of dark.
She now reclines beneath a leafy dome,
embraced by (and embracing) steadfast bark.
As Full Moon glows, her respiration slows,
then melds with breath of elm in deep repose.
6/25/2010
A Little Piece of Paradise
An Eden-like orangery, her secret place for refreshing reverie,
a haven, from an abusive marriage, where her body and mind are free.
Away from a domineering, intrusive household,
her own favorite hideaway – a refuge from her unhappy world.
Here she is serene enjoying peace and blessed tranquility,
nestled in the nurturing bosom of this fertile orangery.
Contentedly she inhales the sweet fragrance of orange trees in bloom,
that permeates to every corner of this sunlit, warm welcoming room.
An enticing delight, time spent alone here is her singular vice,
as she lingers in the safety of this little piece of paradise.
Re-reading familiar poetic verses from a well-worn book,
she experiences sheer bliss sitting in this hospitable nook.
What joy communing with riveting Romantic poets,
like beloved Brontë, Browning, Rossetti, and Eliot.
Reveling in her sacred solitude, she relishes their consoling company,
amid thriving exotic orchids and other delicate tropical greenery.
Nothing compares to the immeasurable pleasure she derives,
from this brief respite with which her spirit renews and revives.
Before returning to a hard-hearted husband who is as cold as ice,
she clings a while longer to this precious piece of paradise.
07-18-2014
Contest: A Poem in Paradise
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Placement: 2nd
Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.
Enchantments cursed beast of purity’s beauty
Trapped within the foam and spray, touching
Almost the land then in sorrow’s undertow
Driven back is this mystical herd of wild
Mustangs.
Poseidon’s sacred water horses, surfing
Within the frothy s riptide of mermaid tears,
Clashing their silvery horse shoes, against the
Rocky edges of the under currents tidal surge
These titans of the fathoms deepest depths.
Lightening immortals shimmering, bathing
Translucent beneath the hued blue waves,
The last unicorns beg for release, to run
Freedom trails once more, to feel the
Mountains breezes of liberation flowing
Through their milk white manes again.
But silence is the reply from their capturer,
Unmoved is his trident of power, sitting on
His ivory thrown Poseidon watches these
Wonders of myth, and relishes in their
Spectacular beauty, vowing never to
Set them free, thee belong to me, my
Sacred water steeds of the bluest deep.
Within the seashells hear them weep,
These creatures of the mystical realm,
Crying out, release us please, can thrust,
Not hear us.
Out of the water, to feel mother earth
Beneath our silver hooves, we give our
Horns of crystal power, or the shimmering
Shine that beguiles our under sea father.
Out of the water, we’d roam in the wilderness
Wild, roll amongst the sandy duns of the desert,
Climb the mountain tops heights, and breath
The sweet air of freedom within our lungs.
Out of the water, for just one single day,
We sacrifice all that we are, or were in
Mysticism mystical realm, just to be free!
Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.
Lady liberty, hold your flame light high,
Beware the path thy cross, in the wild undiscovered
Wilderness of the U.S.A.
For it is here a fierce native predator,
Stalks the rocky ranges bad lands,
Behold the American mountain lion.
Known as the cougar.
Nature's solitary soldier, walks with
Silences stealth and predatory cunning.
Beneath the thickets underbrush,
The beast does savor, upon his preys weakness,
And relishes the hunt of engagement.
Secretive creature, an apex hunter,
Wearily observing, his natural habitats
Surroundings, this king
Survives by tooth and claw alone.
Once hunted to the brink of extinction,
At the hands of mankind, and greed's bounty.
Nobility's instinctual majesty, has reclaimed
His mighty throne, on the cliff tops high.
The cougar, represents a come backs promise,
We as American's shall leave none of our
Own behind, has recovered and announces
His arrival with a mighty roar.
In the heights forbidden realm, the big horn sheep,
Smacks his antlers against his reveling foe,
It's soundings echo is heard for miles,
Abreast the whitening fallen snow,
But the great feline lord, has now returned,
To his ancestral territory, a shadow flash,
Of golden brown, a royal phantom to
The art of war, clashing with basic instincts
Desire to survive.
Behold the pride stands tall, upon the
Red bands of freedom, nay liberation’s
Symbol soars above the lion's den,
Beneath the night's sky shines with
Old glory's stars hanging in beauty's favor,
We honor him, this the great American lion,
The Cougar.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Saturday
The day she rewrote herself
No more sad songs
With livelier tunes she sings along
She has welcomed the call of opposites
When she wishes to be alone she calls a friend
If she is sad she tries on happy
At first a game of pretend
She changes her hair
Relishes how the young men stare
Subtle differences from the outside in
She knows all things have to begin
One step at a time
Rewritten line by line
This all feels like a Dream
The changes pick up steam
She now looks in the mirror
She's not confronted by fear
She doesn't look away
Her life has become OK
Not a simple chore
But this woman wanted more
Tired of waiting
Locked behind a dark door
That was not the life
She had been made for
That other her
Has gone away
Endless night
Exchanged for day
Reality from imagination
The person she is was there
She may not have known
Yet others were aware
Butterfly wings
Beauty redefined
Etched in bright colors
Spread out with her mind
Dedicated to Colleen
I choose not to mention the contest because judging is very personal.
I feel it was worth higher than a HM, I received 13 comments and a 7 rating.
Feel the winds of change, dear friend,
They are a blowing.
Brethren beneath a common cause,
Kindred spirits, gather united.
To stand tall against opposing
Factions,
Yet we remain strong survivors,
Of justice and right.
Adversity challenges indifference,
It is so written good shall over,
Come evil.
The truth within us all shines,
Humanity achieves enlightenment.
Ignorance shadow fades in
Reality's view,
Life relishes difference,
Freedom flies soaring mankind,
Towards a higher plain.
What a magnificent future,
Lies ahead of us.
Individuality blossoms, fulfillment,
Becomes a human right.
Forgiveness, compassion, and mercy,
Shall be theirs at last.
Let no mans options to believe,
Dismay conscious choice,
Carry the banner of beliefs no matter,
What the cost or price.
Your inner self reflection captures,
Truths mirror image.
Acknowledge separate half's,
Making one complete being.
Behold his name is called,
Social exceptions.
Resolves concussions shows a,
Brilliant phoenix rising,
From hatred's ashes.
It spreads deliverance’s wings,
Embracing a majestic legacy.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
I have a dear feathered friend who greets me each day at dawn!
He likes to dwell in and around the crab apple tree on my lawn!
From his perch he serenades me on wintry Colorado morns so drear,
Cheerily belting out trilling melodies that are so pleasing to my ear!
Oft I've wondered why Robbie Red Breast opts to winter here at all,
'Specially since all his friends flee these icy climes for Florida each fall!
While they bask in the warming sun enjoying cocktails of orange juice,
He prefers wintering here with me along with all its nippy abuse!
'Tis a wonder that the little creature can manage to survive,
Since there are no wiggly worms for him upon which to thrive!
Robbie doesn't worry - The Omnipotent Creator sees to his daily needs,
By providing an occasional hapless bug and a few wind-blown seeds!
I think that rascal relishes wakening me from my slumber each morn,
As he flexes his wings and sounds reveille to begin his daily bourne!
I'd rather be woken by him, tho', than the neighbor's yapping mutts!
'Tis certainly far more pleasant - of that there ain't no ifs, ands or buts!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
S-olar flares deeply stairs
A-mber, my heart swears
N-o one relishes my cares
D-rawn to your Auburn eyes
Y-earning to see their prize
E-ffervescence they disguise
Y-our honey controls destiny
E-verlasting the best to me
S-worn to you reverently
O-ffering you my fealty
F-or you see the best in me
B-estowing lemon green tea
R-arity you bring consistently
O-rnate your shades of honey
W-on my soul's battle totally
N-o one outshines your brown eyes to me
She bounced right off of Saturn's rings
nnnnnnnnnnnnnweaving through the stars.
She had her fill of earthly things.
Like cantelopes and cars.
She only yearned to start anew,
she only meant to try,
to do the things she couldn't do,
Like look me in the eye.
She treads the silver surface,
twinxt Jupiter and Mars,
The Ether's cold but she grows bold
and relishes the scars.
She navigates the cosmos,
with glitter in her hair,
The stardust lands,
on all her hands,
but still she doesn't care .
She won't bring back a Moonstone,
she won't bring back a rock.
She flies alone
out on her own............
I think the girl's in Shock.
An affection grown from pubescent soil, watered with innocent infatuation
Leaves of dreams gently budding, off naïve branches of a youth shortened.
The roots, ventricles of a choice-less heart, her fate twisted by a mothers hate.
No stopping nature’s fruition, and now the growth, the change, will not abate.
Her spring leaves, open and green, stretch brilliantly to reach the sunlight.
Her roots of youth still soft and warm, her sun remains golden and bright.
But his roots go far deeper than hers, once green leaves are already changing.
Growing stiff with age, as they reach deep into a sky that is steadily graying.
The years between them, once not so many, now shade her with their height.
She can’t stop the cold fear of abandonment, someday being left in his night.
Her heart wanders over the fruit, so delicately hanging off her branches.
Who will pick them up when they fall, when he is no longer there to catch them?
Will she watch his leaves flutter to the ground for years, while hers remain crisp?
When hers just begin to tinge with color, what will be the state of his?
Perhaps the soil of innocence should have been sated with more wisdom
So that she might have better acknowledged the future yet to come.
Never to know if it would have made any difference, not wishing it would be.
Just unable to fight the realization that her winter of life may be lonely.
Sixteen years were just another number then, seven years has changed the way she feels
Each year now deafens with its ring, creaking branches and wrinkled bark makes it real.
What will become of her in years to come, will she remain up on her hill alone
Mourning his once strong branches, solemnly tending all that he has sewn?
She imagines that this will be her fate; the acceptance is agony with a silent shout.
But she relishes the days she knows she has with love, because that is what life is about.
She still paces around the churchyard
without a hat on her blown tresses;
an autumn cloak rustling beneath a gray cloudscape
that somehow, her eyes wander on,
not because she relishes the flick
of icy leaves...not because silk orchids lay
on a marbled cross: rather,
her thoughts gather among dry thistles to wail
upon a crypt nestled by life’s hammock of dust.
The lull from breezes affirms such quietude
of her beloved now resting on potter’s field,
sealed by the finality of death : this instant crash
through night's byway pinning him down down the abyss...
And the mist spills into another hour
unrelenting in bowed silence,
as if he loved her essence more in ghastly ruins.
Broken Wing's Could You, Please Contest
Submitted 10/20/2017
Originally Written 10/17/2017
Under cold lights, dark air and the still,
All is quiet, nothing spoken no sound,
Hangs the softest of rope from the hardest of beams,
Hanging in a straight sort of proud,
Reaching right down to the black and white rose,
The rose standing ready for more,
To raise her like a dancer in the moment of yield,
And display like a trophy of war,
And her hands are bound tight, legs are tied back,
Shoulder, head and hips cannot moan,
And her hair is secured out of the way,
She hangs defenceless and naked and owned,
She lives for the love of these cold vivid nights,
Obeys what the rope will demand,
She relishes the play of losing control,
When she submits to her dominant man.
Intermingled threads of my fantasies pour
from the ink of my love on the bare soul
of the letter I write for you, my beloved
The windowpane sparkles moonlit dreams
And I submerge into my visions of you
You, my moon bound to your services
Make me wonder how I would write
All the love-soaked words I've never said
I had questions that submerged in tides
Propelled by divine celestial waves
I forgot to savor the fragrance of lilies
That intertwine into my desolate bed stand
Perhaps you will be gulping your tea
When this letter relishes the touch
Of your frozen fingers looking for warmth
You might inhale the aroma of my love
Dripped in my waxing and waning hopes
Rosy shades of mellowed sunrise
Prompt my hopes to flutter and fly
Away to a land where you reside
I have spent last night tossing them
In solicitude of your awaited letter
My feet took a hundred strides
to the door that I opened warily
I await your reply to quench my love
I am the sun that follows her moon
Eclipsed by unending galactic cycles
Let me drape myself in your love
Let your letter wait at the corner
Until I've told you my anxiety faded away
I've been onlooking the desert roads
Oh should I merge into them in daylight
To kiss the path your letter traverses
This time I hope it remembers at last
My name and address on this frayed street
Let it bring to me your smooth embrace
The sun, exhausted of the chase for moon
Over these centuries, awaits the end of eclipse
Drenched in my fears I whisper at sunset,
"Let my love engulf me in soothing waves"
....The sun and the moon in a golden Aurora, unite,
Your letter arrives before you colored in lilac twilight.
*A tribute to the tumultuous emotions of a soldier's wife*
May 26, 2020
The Sun And The Moon Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
~~Premiere Contest Winner: 4th Place
BRIAN'S CHOICE V,any form,any theme Contest
~~Winner: First Place
Raucous
Raucous, rollicking rain
Rambles on hills and plains,
Relishes rumbles in
Raptures of raw laughter,
Raindrops razzle-dazzle,
Rambunctious and rowdy,
Riots of rakish rascals
A dark blue midnight awning has its portrait,
etched by a a starlit silver lustrous galaxy,
silhouette of black lace frilled clouds,
in somber quietude adrift beneath a vibrant pearl,
amber moon whose gleaming radiance bemused awhile,
at the stark underbelly of flickering candles,
that the urban nocturne spellbound revel in perchance,
sleep pattern held captive by ethereal bliss,
angelic dreams wrapped in opal tincture,
what optic relishes await at early first light,
a colourfast dawn unveils it’s bronze bespoke banner,
heaven bound yellow flare insouciant whim,
red orange burst sky a stirring presage,
for wingspan flight of stone gray plume creature,
natural world usher whose gold throat cadence,
rouses wonderment among the persimmon trees,
tapping into human yearning for awestruck omen,
Kashmir bright velvet hue azimuth a scant gem,
yet sapphire orb twinkles close or distant lure
might embolden dull minds with ardent spark