Best Rollick Poems
poet, you called me?
oh no - that’s not I ...
there's truly just ONE
he writes ‘pon the sky
of sunsets and stars
of space without end
with bold dazzling ink
from a masterful pen
rhymes of dust devils
cloud anvils and rains
mists from the moors
or wind-tickled plains
meadows a-blooming
or snow-crusted peaks
odes made for sunrise
with blush on its cheek
a green flash, auroras
the comets and moon
intense constellations
that rollick and swoon
bright, stabbing bolts
to pierce a night’s sky
huge, spiraling storms
with a sun in their eye
the sonnets He writes
are authentic and true
surpassing the greatest
my words can construe
and yet every-so-often
He’ll bless this old fool
to impart me the grace
and make me … His tool
so, I'd love to take credit
but I must keep in sight
that I'm just an aged pen
with which He may write
thus, I might seem poetic
for the tales that I've spun
but regarding TRUE poets
there's really ... just ...
ONE.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, May 6, 2024 (rewrite)
As summer exits – stage left
Shall we afford it a standing “O”
Bask in the fireworks of its bounty
Weep for the hoar frost tinged roses
Shall we long for one more breath of heat
As tans fade on our bus stop children
Laugh at the faceless pumpkin gatherings
Run through the “pick your own” orchids
Will we bid adieu to a dimming sunshine
Chase our shrinking shadows through dry grass
Rollick in the too soon crisp of leaves
Gaze at the arrow tips of geese
Let us sit and tell our stories
Of secrets shared when summer’s gone
The funny rollick of kittens at play,
the whispered hush, I hear snowfall say.
Puddles to splash in, fires to warm by.
That heart tugging pull of a newborns cry.
Are but a few things that will come to mind,
while breathing deeply, trying to unwind.
After a day of chaos and stress,
I let my mind go, to the things I like best.
A child learning to eat spaghetti,
lots of napkins, fork at the ready.
A momma bird at the nest feeding her young.
The song of bird when a new days begun.
You can't help but smile at these things,
with the images, the thoughts of them bring.
Just close your eyes to see, smell and feel,
the happiness, so vivid and real.
Paula Swanson
11/4/11
For the contest; Write Me A Happy Poem
Sponsored by Francine Roberts
Late September the hills ring with bellows
as stags roar their challenges with gusto
collecting up the does into large herds
ready to give battle to the very death.
Walkers be wary as you too are an intruder
many have been pierced by their sharp antlers
The nine pointer in his full prime paws in anger
this is his land he is master of all he peruses.
No tolerance for the young contender
they briefly spar and the youngster flees
it is not yet his time maybe in a year or two.
The master stag bellows out his triumph.
A rustle in the undergrowth, and a loud crash
heralds the arrival of another stag in his prime
they meet with a ground shaking crash of antlers
locked in mortal combat they fight for hours.
The ground ripped up and red with their blood
they struggled back and forth, neither yielding
The challenger now weakened gives ground
as with a final clash he turns and limps off.
The master roars out his victory of this day,
gathering up his does takes them to water.
It will be his sperm this year that is carried on
His fawns that will rollick and frolic the meadows
“The Legendary Adventure Moments of Doctor Hermione Baggins the Reddish of Winterhold, The Master Sith Rainbow Lord Lulu Pucca, Cloud Kitty Carla Chandra the Ruby Rose, and Rand O'From Equestria the Darken Raw Snow vs The Strange A.A. or Perhaps B.S. Educated Scotties Homer Pilgrim’s Search for More Resources by Destroying the Galaxy to Make Way for a Interstellar Lightspeed Railway or Was It a Fishing Pond?”
Apathetic the game will continue on anyway
“Bidet,” a person points, "first door on the right in the hallway"
Celtic orchestrated melody commences to play
Drastic the GM in a serious voice proceeds to convey
“Exotic treasures will be rewarded at the story's endplay
Frederick and Scotty have threatened to destroy the floodway
Galactic dragons will soon have control of the realms gateway
Heretic man wearing the scarlet hand is on the highway
Icteric smiles seeing the party ‘do you have an issue?’”
“Judgematic paladin, what course of action will you do?”
“Kinesthetic, I'll flash step next to him and use my kung fu”
Laconic, looking over at the monk, “not your turn Lulu”
"Majestic I promenade over and address this mildew"
Novelistic I say, ‘the dragons, and mage, I must melee’”
“Optimistic the NPC rolls a 16 and tries to outplay
Panic soon kicks in as the druid and monk cross the pathway”
Quadraphonic sounds play as the initiative ensues
"Rollick, the monk and I go over, but I just rolled a two”
“Slapstick the heretic encounters the paladin’s swordplay
Tragic it's late and we must stop the story right here today
Unpoetic I know but we'll pick up again next Wednesday"
Updated 5/14/2019
repugnant racist republican reviled - rickettsia re:itch ruler.
rapaciously ravaged revered reverential rubric.
radical ruthless renegade rapidly riotously rips rigged ramparts.
refrains retaining remnant redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
riches rudely rupture rooted rectified rights.
ruckus ricochets revenant reign.
ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
rumbustious rapscallions rollick; render ruinous ramifications.
rusty razor razing revenge rents reprisal.
rabid rectal rictus rotten rebrands re-calibrate.
rambunctious revolutionaries rejoice.
ruffians ride roughshod routing reigning royalty.
reiterate revetting robust recidivist rationality.
ride Rolls Royce relentlessly rendering rock ribbing.
riffraff raconteur raise reactionary response.
revisit rancorous restrictive redlined realigned rightward rivets.
robocop ridiculously rubber-stamped reorganization.
recalcitrant reactors release rapture.
rash Russian roulette reconnaissance raconteurs rack rubles.
red room reflects republican RNA.
rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats revoke righteous refulgent repertory.
rapier robed robbers ransack reliquary resounding retaliation.
retaliatory redcoat regnum reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiling rapprochement
raison d'être rosily revered rifled relics raffled.
rookie raves ripe rackful rubenesque reliably ranked.
refulgent rotundity requisite requirement re: reappointment.
road-tested, roadworthy redeem reapportion routed role.
reprehensible reassignment rapidly recognizes response.
rife rampage removes respectability - respect.
responsible roused restitution refuted.
risky resultant reconnoitering runaway railroad reverberates rivalry.
reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirms redoubling ridding revitalization.
reconfiguration realpolitik reinstates repudiation
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
requisition requires resilient reseeding republic.
regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing.
rare recount restoring recondite renown reprobate Rapunzel.
Republican representatives rejoice reclaiming reins
registering retarded romantic remains
re: Rastafarian revered reliquary rests!
Celine Dion singing quietly in the background
It's all coming back to me now
There were moments of gold and there were flashes of light...
You made growing up seem like so much fun anyhow
My childhood was colorful and exciting thanks to you;
You made sure that it was nothing like your own.
You taught me everything that I know, and so much more
Folding up clothes that we've outgrown
You tell me that everyone has a past that they shouldn't be judged for,
That everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.
And I'm growing up already
Year after year after every birthday
Seeing this world with a whole new perspective
I can tell that life isn't perfect
You try to hide it, I know that you do
You believed that we needed to learn as much as we needed to rollick
But I can still hear those hushed voices behind closed doors
Distant sobbing when you think that no one is awake
You try your hardest to stay strong for the sake of us
Those late-night phone calls that cause heartaches
Standing up for us, defending us
You are the anchor that keeps us from drifting
You're always there to pick us up
From places that attracted us but led us to falling
But you were history with the slamming of the door and I made myself so strong again somehow...
You tell me that every obstacle and misfortune makes us stronger
That God has already planned everything for us
That we should learn to control our anger
Thank you, mother
For everything that you do
The journey you set foot on with so much baggage, turned out to be your life
It hasn't been easy for you
You are a blessing
An angel
And my whole world
Thank you for being my role model
Bravely young lieutenant standing in the battle field hurtlessly.
He captured their enemies very lightly.
His stylist, romantic war, the shield dazzled to see.
He is fond of war and kissing delightly !!
His shiny hair leap and mould prince of wars luminous.
Once he passed, seeing the valley of roses.
He ponder slightly odourless flowers of roses.
Amazingly, he allured aura inside the valley of roses.
He dreamt that he is in the world of roses.
His heart fluttering and his eyes filled with roses.
The sudden fragrance pouring with gems festival rollick.
But the veiling Rose disappered with ivory smiles.
His shying dawn bring coloring lunar reflect his love.
Rosy thorns narrating the gregarious story of loveth.
His rose-world sprouted rootlessly and moths kissing rosy-cheeks.
He seek flower's bazaars also rose wreath.
He sculptured the statue of rose express his love.
Her eyelids feared, roses winging for flowery love.
His rose-blood beloved rose-girl and forgets the bloody war.
He feels like nestling, rose nest covered by love.
The beautiful love period perfumed, the white roses flare as of love-lyre.
He lisped love-language to the fairy rosing.
His enemies pursued and watching his actions in hidden.
In a night of rain he sung songs of love, roses floating !
His enemies played their sword at his rose-fairy.
At most joy, her heart fell, gushing rose-petal.
Rose petals mixed his blood and irrigated the valley or rose.
One who see this valley, roses sprout the odour of love natural !!
Mist veil in haze, winter unwraps,
A rejoice raptures in reverie of spring.
Amber gold touch of Midas perhaps,
Bees and frilled petals in amorous cling.
A mystical harmony of beauty serene,
Magnolia and tulip, hum for butterfly.
Honeysuckle vines, squirrels in between,
Yellows and purple, rose cheeks feel shy.
Like peacocks bloom, begonia and pansy
Palettes of color, lush in vibrant green
Perfumed breeze...cadence lily in daisy
Petunia with marigold, in rollick are seen.
On canvas of soil, lyric paints a picture,
Sprouting prose...to poetry and sonnet.
Sowing seeds of love, Man nurtures Nature
In pride of his sweat, plants glitter on it.
The harvest of hoe, conjures a treasure
In Glory of Garden, life is born to grow.
Landscape of spring, is short-lived pleasure
Maxim of death,.. in summer.., do they know?
20th February 2019
Submitted to Garden Poetry Contest
Sponsor Chantelle Anne Cooke
Come Halloween! O Halloween!
We hide in the shadows no longer.
For this is our time to revel and rollick
in the fast-slipping twilight
and don the cloaks of hallowed ones
who have journeyed before us
at the end of the harvest
and the thinning of the veils
between the Otherworld and ours
that shake the souls and frighten the hearts
of those unwilling to welcome the night
in which the sacrosanct and profane
duel unrelentless in their unseen and spiritual bouts
from minute to hour, from door to door
from field to forest, from fire to ashes
stirred by the wind and pummeled by the rain
until all is melded and finally dissolved
into the darkest dark of the night
without stars, without moon
without the flicker of candles
lit over and over against the blackness of space
fearing the knock on the door, the rattle of the window
the shaking of the floor, the shadows on the wall,
the tingle on the flesh, the creaking of the stairs
the rap on the table, the howl of the unknown
the sound of voices whispering ethereal words
that echo like ripples on a hidden stream in a hidden dale
beyond the reach of all who await the approaching dusk
to revel and rollick and don the cloaks
at the end of the harvest and the thinning of the veils
when we do say, Come Halloween! O Halloween!
She's all alone,
having left her parent's home;
a free bird, a truant, a hobo she's,
who couldn't stand discipline anymore!
She loves aho to rock, rollick, gyrate
and ball to thy rhythm and rhyme O' poet!
But lo, so tender she's, the language bud.
Tend her with little, little sprinkles sweet
of nectarine muse till blossoms full
in to a flower with dripping deluges of honey.
Be a true poet...sensitive, sensible and sensuous...
make love with her to make her happy...
All this care and caution I have to say O' Poet,
since I know of those Professors
and grammarians,
who try to rape.
Which American does not know great Tony Stark?
An industrialist tycoon like strapping shark;
Born with silver spoon in his mouth; noble bequest!
Lived luxurious life one considered blessed...!
Afghan enters his life; like virus in robot;
Terrorists kidnap him; force him to weapon-plot;
He builds his sly armor; makes his vanish easy;
Plays ploys; Shifts into iron man; tough, yet, frenzy...!
Cocktails and women beauties; Romantic, yet firm;
Juvenile play-boy; yet, strict to mercantile term;
Not lonely though alone; full of fun and frolic;
Midst accomplishment of tasks, he has his rollick...!
Pushed to misuse his invention of iron-man,
Virtuously he dismantles his harm-filled plan;
Splaying bundle of freedom virtues and vices,
Tony Stark is an epitome of guises...!
01 July 2022
Captain America's Friends or Foes Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
From down here to a place afar
Let's travel to a sparkling star,
Hop on a UFO and dump our car
To romp and rollick on the star.
In the realm of galaxies and black holes
Let's playact some stellar roles,
You be an angel and I the sly devil
And forge another world on an anvil.
We will wander around the milky ways
And explore the by lanes and highways,
And survey the handiwork of God -
Is it a masterpiece or just slipshod?
On our way back home astride
A shooting star or a cruising asteroid,
Let's wash up and dress our best
On the moon to wine, dine and fete!
Where are you going, my Little Ones?
Oh, my precious, dear Little Ones ...
do not dishearten at my absences,
as with all, they are but evanescence.
Do I not return each twilight to romp?
Have you yet not grown accustomed?
Be still, Little Ones, I am but at task,
inspiring, painting, weaving romance!
My beloved Little Ones, how you vex!
Endless, our games of hide-and-seek,
chasing You, (marbled blue at my feet),
Sol, waiting to wink us into the dawn.
Oh, it matters not how bright you are,
little consequence, your proportions,
you charm and beguile the sky itself!
Is that not an accolade worthy of any?
There gleams none like you, Little Ones,
I am loved, yes, but my charm is brief,
your allurement is eternal, perfect, true.
How I envy you, my darling Little Ones!
Ah, Sol, such a sweet kiss goodnight,
can you not tarry once to warm us -
to but burnish this blue face of mine?
Oh, such a dazzling adventure, that!
But you are the life-giver, Great Sol,
and ever dutiful in your daily charge -
I, but night light for Terra, (beneath me),
callow caretaker of tides ... and dreams.
Ephemeral, my stay in this wondrous realm,
still, you and your glimmering Little Ones,
will prance and rollick on heaven's breast
'til the blessed angels themselves depart!
So I'll ask of you now, Great Sol, please,
watch over my bright wee friends, alight,
for our nightly games have warmed me,
and their companionship, ever soothed ...
My shining ...
precious ...
dear ...
Little Ones!
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "A Star's Heartbeat" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.
Eggs, candies, bunnies, pastels, decors, chocolates,
Brunches, desserts, and white lilies with ice droplets;
Wearing clothes, church-going, wish parading, dining,
Doesn't Easter seem like newer events designing...?
With hullabaloo of festive fun and frolic,
The day dawns and goes down with euphoric rollick;
At almost near the brink of sleepy dizziness,
With rays of muse hearts will fall into encumber:
The history-mystery mix of those tough times,
The Pharisees and Sadducees, and their continued crimes;
The Jewish religion and the rude Roman laws,
All, to kill Jesus, tried ever, to find a cause...!
With the cruel sentence of carrying the cross,
The scourge, fall and rise, whip-thrash, and dignity loss;
His body was broken and his blood was poured out,
He trusted his father's will, yet, beyond all doubt...!
The tomb could not hold him, just like the mother's womb,
Graves opened erupting many a mercy flume;
Death, like a dead log or rock, is seen lying dead,
Life, like a lion leaps, let free of every thread...!
The defeat of death; the flow of fullness of life,
True human salvation, and sacrificial strife;
Forgiveness and freedom of the Father divine,
Easter is about newness - new skin and new wine
18 March 2023
Easter Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Rhyme Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllable Checked At: How Many Syllable