Best Rolling Poems
The gentle music flows
from every drop of rain,
as it just lightly taps
against my window pane.
The wind begins to whistle
it's own melodious song,
while the wind-chimes
dance and play along.
The soothing sounds cast open
the windows and doors.
I close my eyes and breathe.
The energy surrounds me as my spirit soars.
I hold out my hand and feel the raindrops
as if they were at play.
My breath now quickened with emotion.
I taste the rain on my lips as I embrace the glorious day.
The curtains blow inward
the breeze itself is warm,
my mind is so peaceful
in the calm before the storm.
The sky's voice trembles
from above a darkening cloud,
as the rolling thunder
speaks it's thoughts aloud.
The thunder awakens
the flash of light.
The part of nature
that sends some to flight.
I chose to embrace the power of nature
in the earth and sky.
And bask in the wonder
that fills my eyes.
The rain seems to be letting up
as it puddles on the green grass,
and the once powerful winds
are now calming down at last.
The gray clouds are parting
and a bright rainbow forms,
proving that something beautiful
can come from such dangerous storms.
My eyes close and I breathe
in the scent of the cleansing rain.
The brilliant hues of the rainbow
dance in my mind where I feel no pain.
The sun peaks from behind the clouds
just to say hi.
I feel the warmth against my face
as I view the beauty with a sigh.
Written by: Kelly Deschler & Nature Boy
For Jared Pickett's contest - "Collaboration"
You who ride the storm, the lion of heaven in hell
The thunder shook the earth, with stone axes
Mountain and soil being folded
A settlement from the earth's interior
//Rolling thunder, the innumerable trumpets //
The lightning bent mutely and refined
The lion is able to create stone,
sun and water to their servants
Always ready to throw himself over his victim
A sense of impending violence, as a climax
Did the ravens fly in the wrong direction ?
No one could explain the frightening
phenomenon as lightning and thunder
//Rolling thunder, wild horses running//
01.10.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
"The Unexplained" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Carolyn Devonshire
2nd place in the contest
A ribbon of blue snakes through the hills
Carving its path as it meanders along
Rushing and gushing down to the sea
Burbling and gurgling, hear it singing a song
Watch it dancing around with a will of its own
Freely flowing until the end of time
Shimmying over pebbles and rocks
Its unconfined movement is simply divine
It will live on as long as rain falls from the skies
The end of the world will be the river’s demise
I Form Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
02~23~17
When the time arrives for me to depart
from the sunlit harbors of the living.
Take me aboard a navy fighting ship
and carry me back again to the sea.
Order the boatswain to construct a skid
made of wood and painted with fresh white paint.
Build it to hold a gray weighted coffin
draped by Old Glory with her stars and stripes.
Cruise the coast of my beloved home Whidbey
until full abreast with Ebey’s Landing.
Muster the funeral party astern
Play taps and slide me into the blue drink.
Let the storm-flecked waves of the rolling sea
take this old sailor to his final peace.
From my editor:
“I’ll call you Deadline Devonshire, a nickname born
Your tombstone will read, ‘She was never late before’”
From my sister:
“I’ll take claim to the gene pool’s beauty and brains
You can take credit for writing verse that’s inane”
From my friend:
“You always leave home early for fear of getting lost
Please buy a GPS, regardless of the cost”
From my priest:
“Reincarnation’s bunk; you were never Cleopatra
Did you have to adopt ‘been there, done that’ as a mantra?”
From my counselor:
“You spend too many hours consumed by introspection
No matter what you do, you’ll never reach perfection”
From my director:
“Good grief, how hard can it be to exit stage right?
Are you standing there waiting for a green light?”
From my coach:
“Don’t hold that hockey stick so high in the air
You look like you’re out hunting for Yogi the Bear”
From my teacher:
“You seem obsessed with making everything rhyme
To the heights of great poetry, you’ll never climb”
From me:
“I guess I’ll just have to accept my imperfection
Writing this poem? Too much self-reflection”
rolling in the dough
status quo
I’m watching bread grow
5/3/5
Syllable Count
Oct.10.2018
Baker's Dozen Poetry
Sponsored by: Maureen McGreavy
Placed 2'nd
Slow Rolling railcars are a better pick,
If high-speed travel makes you sick.
Slow On The Uptake is confusing,
Slow But Sure, safe but unamusing.
Slow Markets make a stock broker mad,
Slow Release tablets - best to be had!
In the Slow Lane, you're just an onlooker.
Best “Slow” I know is in my Slow Cooker.
Beyond the horizon
they rolled in rippling
the clouds majestic
flamboyant and spectacular
A gentle rumbling motion
putting on a show
tumbling with grandeur
in splendor blues and hues
Sweeping across the skies
undulating swirls and spirals
flowing shifts and layers
waves of billowy locomotion
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2023, Honorable Mention 2022
Published in my photo/poetry book ~ROLLING CLOUDS~ 2019
Submitted on June 9, 2020 for contest STRAND NO 790 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Watch out and wait. In fact stop listen and wait. Is that the wailing of a sail sailing by? Of course it is. The fact that an ironed breeze can touch a nautical knot is common knowledge amongst sailors and sailors are neither shaped sharpened sharpeners nor are they saying still shifts stillness. It is the opinion of the official orange kingdom that stalk the juice makers. Creators of squishing. Causing cannibalistic clothes cheating chatty climbers. It is neither within a dash nor a hash key that a full stop is found. And keys can be symbolic and symbolism of a metric metre can be taken to a few zoos to play with caged controlled boxed up animals who wish to run away. This they do with thuds akin to hooves. Strong fur and beaks can move and snap bars. And all are released. Good. Ha the ball is dancing to a top allegro tune in a sombrero and a tutu. Ha the tail of a car is chasing a cat around. Xxxxx multinational z z z z z. With a hypothetical hypothesis hearing harmonic hopping hippopotami z
Spiked Drinks Got Them All So Rolling Drunk
Universe spun out of control and died
The planets sputtered out and then fell
The southern boy liked his chicken fried
And preacher's young son rang the old church bell
Hope lost its heart and thus began to cry
The throng laughed away, nobody cared
High sheriff asked, did anybody die
Mike gathered rabbits he had snared
Janet put on blue gown for that night's ball
As her older brother Bill dosed the keg
While white mouse in the corner saw it all
Kelly in miniskirt showed her legs.
Spiked drinks got them all so rolling drunk.
Most f'ed up of all was the local monk.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet,
1973
"A prom night to remember"
I hear the willows weeping
in the corners of my mind,
I feel the sand go slipping
through the hourglass of time.
I see the catfish whiskers,
more like tentacles, thick and black,
I sense the wasp nest growing
as I wait for their attack.
I watch the full moon rising
as the sun sets in the west,
I feel the thunder rolling
like a pounding in my chest.
I hear the barn owl's question,
though the answer no one knows,
as the spider weaves her magic
in the poison mistletoe.
©Danielle White
When I look back at it now,
it seems we’re so far away,
from how we were baby,
back in the day.
When each moment was filled,
with either great joy or strife.
Stomping through existence,
filled with angst and rage,
like an epic novel,
when each turn of the page.
Brought another chapter,
springing into life.
We’ve had our share of smiles,
heartaches and tears.
Joyous encounters,
crippling fears.
Yet it was you and me baby,
just rolling through the years.
Those old days are gone,
don’t care if they come back,
because there’s nothing I need,
there’s nothing I lack.
Nothing I’m searching for,
nothing I’m hoping to find.
I’ve got all that I need,
just you loving me,
holding hands in the sunset,
sitting in the shade of a tree.
I’m blessed with happiness,
and lots of peace of mind.
We’ve had our share of smiles,
heartaches and tears.
Joyous encounters,
crippling fears.
It’s still you and me girl,
just rolling through the years.
I see clear skies and smooth sailing
until the end of the line
with you in my arms
every things gonna bet fine
as long as it’s you and me darling
and we keep rolling through the years
I know an ambitious politician
His nose in the sky like a patrician
Looks down on all others
As voters, not brothers
Appointed ‘Chief of Dog-doo Emissions’
Rolling
Round and round down the hill
Riding in a tire
Revolves like a windmill
Rotates faster faster!
Reeling wildly and shrill...
Rubber meets quagmire.
Remorse—after the spill.
4.13.2021©deborah burch
Pleiades
I stand at the top of my hill,
Spread my arms and fall and roll,
Over pavement, yellowing grass,
Into balls of trees of autumn.
Jasper, topaz, ruby, and orange true,
At last my windings end
At the edge of a creek reflecting these,
With ripples of gentle wind,
I pray as I see through trees to the sky,
An afternoon blue with little birds fluttering,
Fluttering to find what’s left for their tummies,
Before roosting in the first cool nights.
Welcome Fall, and please quickly pass,
Pass through red and green,
For I am one for warm days and then
The sparkle of tender spring.