Best Response Poems
Forgive intrusion in the fray
I'm making comments today
Tom's limericks, three
were cute as can be
But of Kim and Jack, I must say.....
We all know how well Kim can write
She graces each page of the site
But limerick queen
Jan is a machine
There's no cause to argue or fight (all done in fun)
Limerick's have a syllable count
Ya can't use just any ol amount
Jack uses too many
His words aplenty
It's a problem he must surmount
It's the same with Shakespeare's sonnet
No matter whose name is on it
There's one Scotland Yard
And only one Bard
No imitators, doggone it
Don't get stalled with rhyme and meter
Sometimes prose can read much sweeter
Write what's in your heart
Poetry is art
Pick up your pen and don't teeter
No showdowns here; we're having fun
Put away your slingshot and gun
Not calling the law
Just havin' a jaw
Don't run me out of town...I'm done
“The
children
are always
interrupting.
You never have time
for me,” her husband whined
as he dropped his dirty clothes
right there on the floor by the bed.
Trying not to roll her eyes, she gave
this quick response to her disgruntled spouse:
“The kids, chores and mishaps have me spinning,
and you tell me you feel rejected.
To have a blissful home takes two.
Consideration is key.
I’m also missing you!
To be successful
in our bed, take
time OUT of
it. . . for
ME!”
A Double Etheree written May 27, 2012
for David Williams'
The Three H's Poetry Contest
Here is the poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
My Response (for the challenge of Mystic Rose)
You love me quite profoundly. That I know
From this sweet poetry I now have read.
So many things are running through my head,
Like how I might with equal measure show
My love for thee as splendidly, but oh!
I stumble with my meager words instead.
My quill runs dry; all eloquence has fled.
I call upon my muse that verse might flow.
My love for thee is beautiful and strong.
With trepidation I confess to thee
Although I never want to do thee wrong,
Can I love as well and as steadfastly?
Please bear with me; one day my words a song
Will be to echo words thou wrote for me!
Written Feb. 20, 2016
Tentative Dancer
Do I choose to join, this Poetic Dance
To reveal my soul, to take this chance
I am left to wonder, who will care
If my life is charmed, or full of despair
I release my emotions, to the page
The good the sad, the parts with rage
The pen gets started, revealing each part
A stitched together, healed broken heart
Like many a writer, I am a bleeder
Revealing my secrets, to you the reader
My only hope, is that you have time
To see yourself, in the words I rhyme
Because without you, there is no dance
You are the reason, I take this chance
A dance with a stranger, one two three
Perhaps at the end, you will know me
Confident Dancer
I'm glad I chose to join you in Poetic dance
Thank you for giving my clumsy a chance
No longer will I wonder if you truly care
You share your beauty and masterful flare
Together we do our Rumba on a spotless page
For the textured surface is inspiration's stage
As we move in unison I feel your wonderous heart
Thanks for being at one with me within our art
We move together lost in rhyme and meter
Not wanting to leave anything from our reader
If they explore long enough perhaps within time
We will all be joined in this dance so sublime
Yes it can be scary taking a chance
Yet what would life be without the dance
No longer stranger, ink drips one two three
By knowing you, I have come to know me!
Response to Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnet 43,
Let Me Count The Ways
A hundred years beneath the earth my love,
And still, I love thee with my cold dead soul;
You see, my love the soul is still quite whole,
I love thee, yet you are an angel dove,
Gone, gone, no longer, you reside, above.
I love you forever with no control;
Oh sadness, it is lonely in this hole,
I am he, that you wrote love poems of.
I love thee, for your sweetness always bright.
I love thee, for your beauty and belief,
I love thee, for each beautiful love word,
I love thee, for tears falling each dark night.
Oh my darling, this life on earth is brief.
Are you that song above, that sweet songbird?
_____________________________
February 18, 2016
Poetry/Italian Sonnet/non-metrical/Response to Sonnet 43
Copyright Protected, ID 16-758-933-0
All rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, How Do I Love Thee,
Let Me Count The Ways.
Sponsor, Mystic Rose
First Place
Original Poem Just Desserts
I was at my favourite restaurant and had a lovely meal
If I finished all my food then a pudding was the deal
I’d relished every morsel and was pleased as a Cheshire cat
The dessert menu was on its way, Oh I couldn’t wait for that
The waitress bought the menus and I rubbed my hands with glee
Oh sticky toffee pudding, now that’s the one for me
She came to take the order – we had waited as you do
She finally turned to me and said ‘oh Madam what can I get you’
Oh stiffy cockie pudding please was my swift reply
I didn’t realise what I’d said till I saw the tears form in her eye
I went as red as a beetroot and the others began to laugh
At my spoonerism which turned into a complete gaffe
The pudding it came quickly but I couldn’t wait to leave
I choked on every mouthful and my stomach it did heave
So please take notice of my error on this horrendous day
If you order sticky toffee pudding be careful what you say!
2nd February 2014
This was my first poem posted here and was is my first poem to be published in a book by United Press
Response Poem to Just Desserts
When I read my ‘Just Desserts’ poem, oh I made such a gaffe
I am petrified it will happen again and everyone will laugh
At home I have been practicing the correct words I have to say
To order sticky toffee pudding again will really make my day
We still go to this local restaurant for a tasty treat
I love the food they serve, it’s a lovely place to eat
But when its time to choose my dessert then I begin to shake
After my terrible Spoonerism I can’t make the same mistake
I smile sweetly at the waitress who comes to take my choice
Then clear my throat gently so I have a steady voice
I want to order sticky toffee pudding, the dessert of my dream
But I chicken out at the last minute and order an ice cream!
Contest - A response to My First Poem
Sponsored by Silent One
09~27~15
Bugger
17th July 2015
Last night my missus gave me some oysters for tea
Was I in for a night of rip snorting whoopee?
I showered and shaved trying to smell like a stud
Her half dozen oysters must have all of been duds.
Things were desperate so I engaged in foreplay
What old men do when they want a roll in the hay
I groveled I pleaded, even whined like a dog
But for all of my efforts all I got was a snog.
So should she ever give me a little blue pill
I now know it sure won’t be for an evening of thrill.
Her response
So you’re disappointed
That all you got was just a snog
How about make an effort
Stop smelling like grog
I don’t care for begging,
And sexual wee stirrings
Have a shave and a shower,
That'll start me concurring.
Now take your hand off my breast,
Just help me cook the kids tea
Grab the vacuum, do the house,
That’ll be enough foreplay for me
Hang out the washing,
Then feed the pets.
Do homework with the kids
Please now go make the beds,
Scrub all the pots,
Make sure you do the lids
Thank you my dear,
Your help was just great,
It's nice just not to nag
What! What do you mean?
You’re too tired for a shag?
28th September
Silent One's Competition
In response to my first poem
Death brings relief in the belief
that afterlife is awaiting.
So shed no tears, harbor no fears
as you cross the river of light.
--------------------------------------
19th January, 2016 ~ Quote 4
“Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out
the lamp because the dawn has come.” Rabindranath Tagore
Contest: A Poetic Response
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Placed: 2nd
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861 - To Her Lover
How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
=================================
Her Lover's Response - How Do I Love Thee Contest
My dear, I love thee too in many ways.
You fill my heart and soul each day and night.
Alone I am when thou art far from sight.
Without thy love, my days fall short of grace.
My heart is full of love for thee through days
Of comfort and of strife, for thou do light
My every path that leads to good and right.
For thee my heart and soul hold life-long praise.
Our love we keep with passion deep and use
The fire to feed our love's non-ending faith.
Thou strength I do embrace to never lose
The closeness that I feel with every breath.
No matter how our days are spent I choose
To love thee always, even after death.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count The Ways
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Judged: 02/22/2016
New Year, Past Years
Dawn, looking as blush as twilight,
Where the silhouette of trees still lingers
And envelopes me—
Transporting me to my world of yesterday.
I can still hear my children’s laughter;
Watch them play and dance
To their sweet singing tunes.
How quiet the morning is now
That they are grown and gone.
As I look out toward the grey sea
And Diamond Head
I can see their faces in the rising sun.
© Connie Marcum Wong
January 2, 2010
Response Poem:
As More Years Pass
There is more beauty in my life now
Than I could have ever imagined.
When our last child left home
And our voices seemed to echo
Through our silent empty rooms
I felt the sadness of a mother's
Longing to be loved and needed.
As my son blessed me with his son
And my daughter with her daughter,
Our home was once again filled
With children's happy laughter and
With my contented laughter too.
I help my daughter raise her daughter
Who reminds me every blessed day
As more and more years have passed
That I have saved the best for last!
© Connie Marcum Wong
September 29, 2015
Contest: A response to your first poem
Sponsor: Silent One
See-Saws - (First Poem posted on PoetrySoup, 08/04/2014)
What playground does not hold the magic lure
of see-saws firmly braced upon their stands?
What child resists excitement, felt for sure
in ups and downs: the hard thump when he lands
and surging thrill of bouncing up again?
To know that when he's hit that lowest low,
it's followed by a swing to new heights when
he'll know once more the joy of that plateau?
In contrast of the see-saw truth is found,
for truly, were it stable, it would bore
the simplest mind; for only from the ground
does grandeur of the heavens make its score.
For only in imbalances we feel
the balance that keeps life on even keel.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In Response To My First Poem
Yin and Yang
Just as a see-saw's motion, up and down,
echos the yin and yang of heaven, earth;
these complement each other, turn around—
like dark of night becomes the new day's birth.
All seasons here on earth their balance keep,
along with oceans' rise and fall of tides.
The yin and yang, the ebbs and flows must sweep
throughout the universe—become our guides.
The ups and downs along with highs and lows
in our own lives—imbalances we feel—
are yin and yang which we cannot oppose—
that balance which keeps life on even keel.
But sometimes balances can be unfair
when dark of yin can linger, bring despair.
We pray see-saws can rest awhile—prepare
to longer bask in yang of life midair.
Sandra M. Haight
~6th Place~
Contest: A Response to Your First Poem
Sponsor: Silent One
Judged: 09/30/2015
Do not lose hope; I’m coming home to you.
although you’re far away, I swear I hear
the desperation in your song so blue.
And in the dark, I see your face appear.
It’s just as if I’d never left your side.
Do not lose hope; I’m coming home to you.
We need each other. Let’s forget our pride.
I’m feeling you, Dear. Can you feel me too?
There has to be a way to see this through.
The pain we brought each other needs to end.
Do not lose hope; I’m coming home to you.
You are my sweetest lover and best friend.
I hear your heartbeat, and your lyrics seem
to shout your pain. Believe me, it’s all true.
I’m slipping out my door. This is no dream.
Do not lose hope. . . . I’m coming home to you.
Written May 25, 2016 For the Slipping Away contest of Becca Teagan
Do not go gentle into morning light
Young souls should burn and rave at start of day
Rage, rage against the coming of the night
Though wise men at their dawn know toil is right,
Because their deeds must fork some lightening they
Do not go gentle into morning light
Good men, the first wave high, knowing how bright
Their great deeds must now cleanse a putrid bay
Rage, raging against the coming of the night
Wild men, who free the blazing sun in flight,
And learn, too late, earth burned along the way
Do not go gentle into the coming night
Young men, near prime, who see with lucid sight
Keen eyes must see like soldiers in the fray
Rage, rage against the coming of the night
And you, my daughter, here on the glad height,
Curse, bless, mankind with your fierce zeal, I pray
Do not go gentle into morning light
Rage, rage against the coming of the night.
Eileen Manassian
Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night is one of my favorite poems. Dylan Thomas has written a masterpiece. I wanted to write a poem that isn't about the regret that comes with facing death, but rather the awareness that comes from knowing that the dawning of a new day brings with it opportunities to be grasped. I've mirrored some of what he has written and added my take on issues of life and death. There are references in my poem to the need to be environmentally aware. I welcome your feedback.
Please read Eileen's poem "To the Lifegiver" first.
Yes I have given you 365 days
Yet the pages are not blank
I have choreographed an amazing dance
I ask you to take my hand
Your life is to important to leave to chance
You being you is what makes me smile
I know the you that you are meant to be
Not the one bound by the chains you see
By accepting my hand you can be truly free
With your pen
You have touched many hearts
A gift I bequeathed you from the start
I am the giver of dreams
Write what I say
Like me an author
You have a part to play
I have your days recorded in my book
I knew them before the Earths foundation shook
I lead you to still waters and refreshing brooks
My love is not one you have to earn
I wonder if mankind will ever learn
What I long for is relationship
A tough concept for most to grip
I patiently wait
I want you to trust
You are so much more than merely dust
I have made you with a soul that's just
A butterfly
A flower
That's not fully bloomed
Here today and forever
You will not be consumed
My fire will purify
In you is a spirit of gold
One day my beauty you will behold
Enyoy this dance
Let me take the lead
I died for you so that you don't have to bleed
Your life my garden where I planted the seed
Some day you will let me cradle you in my arms
You will no longer be smitten by this worlds charms
I patiently wait
Give you 365 days
Perhaps some day soon you will understand my ways
Inspired by Eileen Ghail's Poem "To The Lifegiver"
AT THE FINAL GOODBYE
The congregation
mingled within the silent
stone slabs of their
ancestors, a final goodbye
to yet another
destined to leave this place.
Yet to one, in this his
profound sorrow an
enchanting moment.
He craved! With a soul
sensitive and true to
touch a living memory,
his lips again to caress
her symbolic smile.
His need to glance upon
her northern eyes of blue,
stroke her flowing
“Celtic Flame”
That, while strolling in lanes
of love rebelled against
the moorland breeze.
He desired to paint this
memory of that moment
the very first day they met,
bestow in this a silent tribute
to the emotions within
their secrets, those, no one
else could ever share!
first posted 2nd may 2010
IN RESPONSE TO MY FIRST POEM
Our secrets to keep forever
The two of us only will share,
This my darling is my promise
To you so far away down there.
Oh yes I can hear and see you
From this my place far up above,
I listen to your sweet whisper
See us in your portrait of our love.
Alas ‘tis only my bare bones
That lay idle beneath your feet,
Leaving everything about me
In your memory this my treat.
Our precious although short moments
Forever lives on in my soul,
Until one day yet far away
The final end your earthly role.
Then once again true love will meet
Your need to touch my Celtic Flame,
Mine to gaze upon eyes of green
Our lips passionate wild untame!
28th Sept 2015
© Harry J Horsman 2015