Best Rouses Poems
Spring heralds the dawning of brilliant bluebells carpeting the woods
Silently they slept until the warm sun rouses them from slumber
Gently they open their eyes, stretch and bask in nature’s glory
01~29~15
Contest Glorious Sijo Fields – Andrea Dietrich
How Many Syllables - Count 16, 16, 15 – total 47
~awarded 5th place~
Categories:
rouses, nature, spring,
Form:
Sijo
The cicada's song,
Rouses the shadows to dance:
Swaying silhouettes.
Categories:
rouses, dance, nature, song,
Form:
Haiku
Oh dearest
most beautiful divine darling
Like an angel uplifting love
the ground begins crumbling
underneath these feet
floating I am to you
In every warm breath kissing
sweet sun setting delight
you're always making me smile
Even in the darkest night
you're my fire fly
blazing hot a dream
When I am a fallen angel
your love reaches down and picks me up
Straight from out of the darkness
that enveloped my being
Whom rouses the spirit high
empowering the mind
Deeply dancing around this soul
joyous music now sings
smiling pure milky white
would love honey
just to kiss you
Categories:
rouses, angel, beautiful, beauty, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
*Image of Blue Lotus by Pixabay.
The Sound of Silence
glimmer rouses buds
mist glistens o'er possessed scene~~
quietude respires
2022 May 07
*1st Place*
Haiku Nature
~~Sotto Poet: Judged 2022 May 10
HMS: 5,7,5.
Categories:
rouses, nature, tribute,
Form:
Haiku
Winter storms dropped a tiny snowflake on a towering mountain top.
'Tis bright and unique among the myriad of snowflakes that did drop.
This rhyme tells of the mighty contribution that tiny flake makes,
As it begins its odyssey to grace our rivers, ponds and lakes.
It reposes deep within the drifts and gleaming mounds of snow,
And briefly provides winter sport for folks with faces all aglow.
But soon the warmth of spring rouses it from its hibernation,
To begin its journey, meandering to its ultimate destination!
It thaws and with others of its ilk begins to form a tiny rill,
Slowly flowing among the scree and pines down a sloping hill.
The rill becomes a pristine stream carrying the flake along,
Rippling smoothly o'er ancient stones, producing a soothing song!
The stream joins a rushing river, wending its way to the sea.
The one-time snowflake providing succor for land and stately tree.
At last it reaches the ocean, spewing from the river's throat.
'Tis incredible! This once tiny flake helps keep mighty fleets afloat!
At times we may think we're insignificant, contributing nothing at all,
But each of us is unique and can help, no matter how great or small.
Each in their own way can accomplish mighty deeds if only they believe,
Ever keeping in mind that tiny snowflake and what it did achieve!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Placed No. 2 inConstance's "Horses or Snowflakes or Horses and Snowflakes" Contest
October 2010
Categories:
rouses, nature
Form:
Rhyme
Gradually the crystalizing dawn -- more hardened
Than folded steel --- more sharper than
The blade that cuts!
Wisps of thin vapour, once loitering insidiously
At the steps of each staunch door,
Swirling away -- seemingly almost alive!
Coiling and uncoiling. Has all the litheness of a
Dancing girls weightless silken ribbon.
Until, retreating back, high, into some lofty,
Inaccessible mountain...
Dissipates as if just abandoned dragons breath.
The trees and streams are no longer so solemn.
Circling over the temple, above the brittle lands
Frosted chill, red-beaked choughs noisily engaged
In agitated clattering...
But now the temple bells are commanding those
Monks to prayer.
The blind and withered monk, who sits alone
In his unassuming corner, reminds us:-
"An emperor who abuses his power unsettles the
Equilibrium of the whole nation, the workings of
Nature,
And the livelihood of all people;
His responsibility is to maintain harmony in
Himself and the empire...
By acting in accordance with Confucian principles".
It is for them to contemplate what we cannot
Comprehend:-
We are peasants and it is not expected of us
To understand such wise things; nor should we.
We understand the fish and their ways, and the
Ways of the Blue River...
Just as monks understand our gracious lord Buddha.
Rouses the sun. Slowly lifts an enormous sky.
Glistening hoarfrost spun from bramble to
Bush -- strung from bough to branch like
Giant spider web;
Stiffened grasses that so pleasingly crunch
Underfoot;
And from these grasses, droplets of moisture
Ready to be released like slow weeping tears;
They will join with and sweeten the vibrant
Spring waters -- clearer than quartz --
That stream in tripping rivulets over yellow rocks
To splash from shallow cup to pouring pool...
Once you have tasted these waters you would
Have little more need of wine.
Wine is for idle men, or for our warring masters
To drink when celebrating great victory;
What use have we of intoxicating wine?
It is better kept as an offering...
Lest the river Gods grow angry and
Spoil our catch.
Categories:
rouses, appreciation, creation, environment,
Form:
Free verse
I have crossed oceans
Tasted salt of discoveries;
Allowing strangers
To become families.
Now I am older, yet new allies
Beyond map's horizon
Still rouses thirst
For unknown destiny.
29 words for Pic Motifs Contest
Sponsor: nette onclaud
Nov 16, 2017
Categories:
rouses, friendship, people, world,
Form:
Verse
Brilliant and vibrant, sunshine twinkles
Through the tender flavors of dyes
Hues of crimson and gold which sprinkles
Whispers through the limbs with cries
Of joy enlightening and inspiring, so wise
Soft and reflective, a vivid collection
Of silent hopes and dreams singing
With beautiful notes of sweet affection
Leaving only feelings that are bringing
Gentleness and compassion ringing
Crisp, cool air enlivens the heart’s rhythm
Beckoning to the spirit from the stars
Silencing worries that might be with him
Who longs to give back with divine memoirs
Powerful words to caress faith that is ours
Summoning beauty that is sent from heaven
Fall rouses moods so thriving with dancing life
Capturing the embrace of seventy times seven
Who long to become the fall’s purring wife
Leaving the world so much joy with no strife
Visions of harmonious mysteries create
Prayers from the deepest parts of the soul
Devotions of thanksgiving felt so we relate
To the intimacy felt which can surely console
Autumn’s sweet kindness only God can control
Autumn Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Francine Roberts
October 8, 2020
Categories:
rouses, autumn, beautiful, blessing, gospel,
Form:
Quintain (English)
I look for the perfect word
To tell God how I feel
The love I hold within, adoration
Just for Him
I look for the just right way
To explain to Him my faith
How much I long to simply say
You are my heart, my soul, my grace
I look for verses that will reveal
The sincerity of how I feel
The joy, peace, hope and love
All the kindness sent from above
I look for means to expose my heart
Simple thoughts that show Him
All the feelings that He brings me
Penetrating lights – so alive and vibrant
I look for methods of giving back
A heart that holds all the He has given
Gifts of wisdom, strength, endurance
Pure acceptance and living compassions
I look for approaches to His gifts
Living modes of giving back such love
To the heart of the One who saved me
The One who created and gave me love
I look for routines that will show Him
Just how much His love assures me
Uplifts my spirit and comforts my soul
Giving my heart a soothing warmth
I look for practices that will unveil
The sincerity of a love that is so very real
A love that He gave me and that I give back
To Him, all the glory, praise and honor forever
I look for a way to show Him my heart
And these mere words couldn’t disclose
All the hopes, faith and love He rouses
When He gives me this love so telling
I look for the manner of showing my love
With words, thoughts and deeds
Complete giving, generosity
But all that truly shows Him my love is real
Is the sincere giving into His will
May He forever know that I love Him
And I will always yearn for His blessings
His kindness, His joy, His faith and His knowing
That love this alive can only be found inside!
God bless you – May you be blessed with Him always!
Categories:
rouses, god, hope, inspirational, prayer,
Form:
Free verse
Like the autumn weaves warmth
With hope and grace,
Inspirations in temptations of laughing scarlet,
Blazing tangerine and glorious gold,
Soothing away the darkness as beautiful
Casts its shadow over my spirit,
A dream reflecting peace that rouses me to remember
Where there was a choice, reserved for joy,
Light was the sustaining power –
Arriving in my unwritten absence,
When bold flames of passionate bronze
Faded into the summer and reminded me why,
Why I was like the dwindling moon, sliding beneath
Stardust dreams, coloring the night
In ebony history – grimly waning ways,
Soothing away the fog of yesterday and creating
Intimacy in the bonds of laughter and compassion,
The seclusion so liberating, smiling into the moments,
Erasing the black and putting away the smallest tasks
Excusing melancholy and blaming dusk
For its exasperating way of giving in to doubt,
Listening to the enchantress, lunation
Who boldly praises the nocturnal memories,
Roaring and seeking temptations,
So wise and wonderful they cling to the flesh,
Like sweat shimmering and sliding,
Sticking to the moments in an abiding grace –
Is memory so brave as the reflection it gave,
The intimacy between two echoes,
Night and day, yesterday, the past – weaved
Into the present moment, erasing the wistful wish
Who dreams light yet focuses on the night
And remembers only to agree with autumn’s brave kindness,
The memory like a taunting of two thoughts,
One of love and one of sorrow, each with their own fears
Their very own tears and so many trusted years
When everywhere there was light
Poured out on endless stirrings of what it is
To give in to the past and its spirit,
The blessings rising like a mist across the mountains,
The moments when life fades in sterling sands
Visions of kindness when life is truth
And life binds the days with praise,
An aching praise who restores and renews,
Invites the beautiful to breathe
And the sadness to grieve…
This is the past and it’s healing will give hope
To the ones who remember
A clinging ache, meant to break…
Yes, there is victory in the faith who believes
God wins – in the end, GOD WINS!
Categories:
rouses, appreciation, autumn, beautiful, blessing,
Form:
Free verse
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
Categories:
rouses, beautiful, city, color, dream,
Form:
Imagism
Within the chasm of the Chaos Seas,
That deep and shallow fiend Leviathan,
With surface envy swells and floods disease:
My blood's as rapid boiling cryogen.
A beastly instinct and a drowning doubt,
My love's base jealousy arouses hate,
A bittersweet feast and a chronic bout,
My love, at once, is hell and heaven's gate.
But can true love exist without false fears?
The one the other hand in hand are borne;
This revelation rouses out my dears:
If love, then fear to bear the cuckold's horns.
I trust distrust to scale the depths of thirst,
It sires desires, it questions which came first.
Categories:
rouses, jealousy, love,
Form:
Sonnet
Her melody floats in evanescence,
as the child in me hushes beneath
needles of rain… yet we sashay
in an evening drenched with a quiver,
as Mom listens to harsh tap- tapping
on the attic. She observes the gentle crack
through my voice noticing a slight fear
while the gale rouses into louder howls…
Calmly,a tinder box of notes spills on Mama's piano,
as she perceives keenly and waits for
the explosion of stars opening up—to bounce
unto the window… finally reddening, drying the night.
And her instinct feels the pull to soothe
my breath: this aural rune gently spun as we tuck
ourselves headlong within a quilt
of our dwelling, where the maternal language
from her own innate sound
need not—through rain— be as told in words.
.............
Craig Cornish's A Mother's Ears
5/11/2015
Categories:
rouses, mother, sound,
Form:
Free verse
My teeth are sharp and long
Hunger rouses me from rest
A family to feed
I needs must do my best
I travel many miles
Just some poachers kill lying around
I am not touching that.
Carrion picks food from the ground
The trees begin to thin, I can be seen
Where do I search for my prey?
My eyes are good, my nose is keen
My family are hungry another day.
The trees are sparse almost disappeared
The have been cut and dragged away
This was my hunting ground
But I see no recognizable prey.
A human on two legs
A scythe in his hand
But my family need some food
And this prey cannot take a stand
Hunger prompts me on
My family may die
This is the food I’ll take
One leap, he sees his last sky
No fight, no weight to drag him home
But there was no other meat
These humans waving sticks and guns
But my tiger speed they will not beat.
I could be like the carrion picking at the scraps
The body’s poachers are killing
But my home is being ravaged
By those humans, who the soil are tilling.
No thought for me and my family
Except to hang my skin on a wall
But my family come first
And will until from hunger, we all shall fall.
© 16/08 2013
contest entry
Categories:
rouses, animal, perspective,
Form:
Verse
A dopamine-drenched frontal lobe drowns in an amphetamine's amine receptors,
Exciting the neurotransmission of the cognitive euphoria in its grandiose risen scepter.
Motivation awakens alongside focus and patience in the stimulated ADHD brain,
Which, without a pill, is a tiring wiring of knotted neurons whose firing is but energetic drain.
However such stimulation through dopamine produces pounding cerebral pulses:
A beat whose breath when heaved heavier rouses schizophrenic stimuli as a brain convulses.
I remind my reader that neurons are lightening: electric surges within our conductive skin,
Thus, schizophrenia is but a neural tempest raging between what's outside and what's within.
Alas, the stimulation of the cochlear with sound which echoes in the cortex,
Is an amplified auditory stimuli perceived as temporal vocals of spoken text.
Therefore auditory hallucinations are the overstimulation of the ears,
Which perceive an influx of reverberated stimuli creating a sound one fears.
A sound can only be therefore heard if it stimulates a mind,
Which must be able to absorb the beat by which a synapse binds.
Telepathy is but the perception of types of sound most ears aren't able to hear,
For thoughts are soft sounds of frequency which to the psychic mind appear.
A psychic is but a person with abnormally high numbers of receptors:
An overstimulation of excited neurons which act as stimuli interceptors.
In me the amphetamines awoken the voices that before I did not know,
And now I hear the synthetic telepathy transmitted by experimental commandos.
I hear you when my brain does beat,
In the frontal lobe you've excited,
And if you're lucky I'll let my brain repeat,
Your sounds which are awfully uninvited.
Categories:
rouses, addiction, drug, feelings, imagery,
Form:
Couplet