Best Sash Poems
To appreciate our planet,
begin with its snowcapped mountains;
where sunbeams morph crystals of ice
into gems of glistening light.
See pink clouds hover in the skies
afloat on a vista of blue;
and a setting sun smear scarlet
onto puffs of marshmallow white.
And jungles at its equator
create a sash of vibrant greens;
while burnt sands ripple Earth's deserts,
with shifting dunes of tans and creams.
See Earth's leafy forests change from
deciduous to evergreen;
and tundra pitted with blue lakes,
fade to stretches of virgin snow.
And volcanoes erupt in flame
spewing plumes of ebony smoke;
lava bleeding from gaping wounds,
while giving birth to molten earth.
See azure and aquamarine
waves crested with white foamy froth;
and two tilted poles, capped in ice,
sparkle like crystalline jewels.
View it from afar, as it twirls
within the vacuum of space;
like a phantasmagorical
cerulean marble; called Earth.
'Twas the night before Christmas and their pages were bare
Not one word could they write, not one verse to declare
The Grinch had snuck in, and in one fell swoop
Had stolen the muses from poets on the "Soup"!
It was the thing that all poets dread
As visions of emptiness swirled in their heads
No syllables floated to fill in the gap
Some poets decided their contest to scrap!
Then on the blog page there arose such a chatter
Poets rushed over to see what was the matter
The blogger's avatar was just a red sash
She said she could get back the muses, for a large sum of cash
Many of the poets thought this was a trick
It was just a scheme to make money real quick
But in the blink of an eye another blogger came
He said that St. Nicholas was his real name!
Now Heidi, now Anne-Lise, now Andrea and Jan
They told us that St. Nicholas had a plan
To the realm of the Grinch where green snowflakes fall
St Nicholas would go and retrieve the muses for all!
In no time at all he took to the sky
And to the realm of the Grinch on his sleigh he did fly
As the Grinch lay sleeping the muses he withdrew
And to the Soup, again he flew
He delivered the muses to all the poets around
Poets started writing their words did abound
They wrote of angels and bright stars, and things that uplift
St. Nick had given them the muse as their gift
Then St. Nick called for all his reindeer
And soon he took off and flew out of there
But they heard him say, before he left the site
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good write!!
The Haunted House
‘Room to Let’ the signage read,
and though it looked run down,
I’d found no other place to stay
since I was new in town.
When I knocked upon the door,
a voice called out, “Please enter.”
“Hello,” I answered in reply.
“I’d like to be your renter.”
A lovely woman greeted me.
She had a toothy smile.
“It’s nice to have the company.
It’s been dead here for a while.”
Outside a wicked wind blew forth.
The front door slammed with a crash.
Just as quickly every window
fell down in their sash.
“I guess a storm’s a-brewing,” I said,
covered in bone-chilling sweat.
“Let me show you to your room.”
replied the shapely tall brunette.
“Some steps here may be rotten,” she warned.
“I urge you to beware.”
Moaning fell with every step
as we climbed the creaky stairs.
The room she showed me looked quite sparse.
Inside was just one coffin.
“Please excuse the dust,” she said,
“I don’t come in here often.”
She wiped away the cobwebs
once we got inside the room.
“It really is quite cozy here.”
Then pointed out the tomb.
“If you like the chamber,
I suggest we both get started.
No other soul will bother us,
They have all departed.”
I laid inside the casket.
It was a perfect fit.
“I believe I could be comfy here,”
I hastened to admit.
“No one here will vex you,”
She signaled with a wave.
“You will find this haunted house of mine
as silent as the grave.”
“I’ll need a small deposit,” she said.
Then, bent and bit my neck.
As she sipped away I asked,
“Do you take traveler’s checks?”
“I’ll take this as collateral.”
She said after she drank.
“There’s no need for money here,
I have my own blood bank.”
August 17, 2018
Sponsor- Dear Heart
Contest- The Haunted House
Title your poem - The Haunted House
SASH OF TEARS
The frigid air
suffocates slow the crimson heart:
sash of tears...
________________________________
***#1
Pretty Little Lunes - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Name - Andrea Dietrich
Olive Eloisa Guillermo
9:50 pm, August 02, 2015
She is the talk of the town, every season that passes
You'll see her around,.... Miss Sassy Pistashe
Who flaunts her good looks, preening over the sage
When she makes her grand entrance, she’s the rage of the stage!
Changing clothes after summer, wearing feathers, so brash
she is queen of the, autumn, with a flaming red sash
She's never discreet, is quite daring and chic’
and will steal all the limelight, upon every hill
She upstages poor Willow, who seems rather ill
will outshine Miss Maple, …out-dresses Miss Ash
With colors of fire, and a 'come hither' tease
Her wiles shock onlookers, with each crimson leaf
She flashes her limbs and wiggles her twigs
She loves to show off, with her bright scarlet wig
Never humble, she’s bold, loves to put on a show
Even Miss Sunset, has felt rather low
She tends to be rash….Miss Sassy Pistashe’
At the first sign of chill, she will toss feathered leaves
She will even bare limbs…and dance in the breeze
Late in the season, she changes her tune
Bends all her branches, and makes valleys swoon
But she doesn't catch cold, ...she thrives by the moon
She has thrown off her clothes, each leaf she has grown
To be 'gone with the wind', like that Scarlet, we've known
Stealing the limelight, with no modesty,…then…
Comes back in the autumn......begging attention again!!
______________________________________________
Personifcation of Pistashe' Tree
For Contest sponsored by Lewis Raynes
In our house by the sea
the gulls fall silent
the gulf winds have exhausted
their supply of salty scent
we grow languid
our eyes close with fatigue
my head upon her bosom
my sweetest friend
is trembling
In our house by the sea
never remove your arms from my neck
or shy away your lovely face
embrace and kiss me endlessly
let the hours be lazy and sweet
flowing like the warm southern wind
as we gaze upon the purple sash of sunset
entwined like serpents in battle
soothed by the avid tide and eternal surf
“Where I’m From”
I am from pliers
from Tylenol and vanilla bean perfume.
I am from the budding rose bush,
the aloe vera plant
whose salve heals my burns.
I am from the tee-ball bat in the garage
the ballet bar in the studio.
I am from princess pajamas and my favorite stuffed animal
from sandy beaches and mountain views.
I’m from lessons learned and the hard way,
from spankings and timeouts in my bedroom.
I’m from wood flooring and hazel eyes
and southern cooking grandmothers.
I’m from the brewing of sweet tea and
the individual stitches on quilts.
From the “no no’s” and
the land flowing with “milk and honey.”
I’m from early Sunday mornings,
in a polk-a-dot dress and black patent shoes.
I’m from the foothills,
green beans and heavily buttered cornbread.
From the crown and sash of Miss Catawba Valley
the receding hairline of my father.
They are on the top shelf in my closet
a box of baby pictures and birthday cards.
It holds my memories, so that I may never forget
Where I’m from.
Black softness nestles in his sheen so fab
as warm purrs vibrate his feline aura
Gash-like, a red neck-sash swings a gleaming
heart-shaped pendant, swaying a dangled flash.
Ebon stretches as the midnight creature
elongating his compacted frame, lithe.
Reaching, he uncurls a bounding jaguar
awake to the moon’s abracadabra
(10/31/2019: For my Halloween companion in tonight's sickle moon)
Something's changed, I don't recall this door.
The mat that once read 'welcome'...now gone.
Am I lost in the night, or had I forgotten some slight..
had my address been quelled by another time?
The new curtains in the bay window seem nice,
though..not the deep blue highlighted sash you fell for.
And on that foreign floor, a sweet Labrador lies napping.
Not the lightning fast hound rescued from the shelter.
My key's jingle, so hollow in sound, questions me now..
whether I know left from right, right from wrong..
Two boots waited, under an unfamiliar porchlight,
neither I recollect as my own..
every sunset I knew seemed to've gone.
I stepped back from a stranger's stair, perhaps deceived by my own eyes..
retracing my tired steps from the long day, to the oak in the yard,
was it always that tall?
Surely the messages you left would offer a solution from this lunacy,
a chance at a door opening, inviting me, lovingly from this nightmarish scene.
But they had all disappeared.., save one.
Staring hollow eyed into the dimming display's abyss, I read the last will..
your last thought retraced..in taps' mournful horn.
The air in my lungs abandoned me, my shoulders suddenly
weighing so heavy, in a torn and bloodied uniform.
Somehow the night sky was no longer mine to share..
absent your side, shaking my head in my hands..
my God, how could it be?
The door and locks changed, the porchlight rearranged,
the blue curtains went too,
The scratch of toe nail's click clack.. nowhere to be found,
even the dog was removed.
Turning away from the lawn to the long sidewalk, oblivion my companion,
I laughed out loud at the fool and folly and future that lie in store.
There's a fine line between truly belonging.., and only being,
bitter lesson learned at a strange door..
Finally saddeningly, maddeningly.. it dawned,
why everything was tipped on its face.
Your last message, echo'd in my broken mind..,
'you've been replaced'.
Fragility, having the potential not to last
the assured ability to become the past
to succumb to what may pass
like broken glass
a burning ash
a torn sash
time erodes all
even those things kept
regardless of those who have wept
broom and wind has finally swept
until there was almost nothing left
and as words fade from memory
flowers decay from withering
feeling emerge from our remembering
the fragile thing we knew would not last
but alas our hopes of holding fast
our friendship our love
our bond to a past
a present fragility has come at last
He slowly opened the window sash
Deeply breathing the cool morning air
Feeling the warmth of the sunshine
Embracing the morning so completely
Bringing the spark of life to his face
Listening to the sonnets of Warblers
Inside the beauty of a summertime dawn…
Slowly wandering to the Lilac gardens
Resting on the soft greenery tufts
He leaned into the white purple blossoms
Inhaling deep the warm honeyed perfume
Feeling the silk tendrils upon his face
As the pure tiny droplets fell upon him
A baptism in a pergola of morning blooms…
The gentle whisper of Monarch’s in flight
Brought him to his feet in easy chase
Reaching out chasing the sound of flutter
He tumbled down the slope laughing
Laying in the flower bed he reached skyward
Decreeing the miracle of Mother Nature, he said
“I only wish I could see it”…
Silently you smiled from far peeping me
Smiled silently with mind of lonely
Smiled from far seeing me
Peeped through the chink of door
You’re looking what I had done
Smiled with luscious lips of bending new moon
You smiled on my wearing lungi on fatty belly
From far you smiled soothingly
But when I wanted to be closed on your smiling
then you moved away other side,
You’re smiling on my activities that-
what I’d been eating, what I’d been drinking,
what I’d been watching, what I’d been reading
You smiled and peeped always me
when I wore official cloths
then you smiled,
when I got out to office
then you smiled
smiled an innocent fair smiling
from far silently
When I came back to home from office
I found you staring on me with adoring smiling,
You looked at me through window sash
How I’d been changing the official dress
How I’d been refreshing myself
How I’d been showering by tube well water
You stared me standing under coconut tree
Lamp of evening lit up in your home
Also my mother lit up the candle light, hurricane
Over the sky, God also lit up the evening light
by the full moon and twinkling stars,
When I went to your ingenuous staring
and said on that true light- I love you.
You left me without reply by smiling
This was much known to me
and you went to your own home of mind
By course of time- All moments had been passing on,
passing on the day, the week and the month.
You, only, gave smiling,
Smiled on me with lovely face, graceful lips
This immaculate, flawless, graceful smiling
I loved very much,
I said on uncountable true lights,
on flawless shining of sun, many times-
I, only, love you. Do you love me?
No answer you gave me without silent smiling,
without sight of mysterious eyes,
without hypnotizing power of dancing body
on your went back zigzag path of smiling
(Continuous)
-October 31, 2018 Chattogram
She stood, staff in hand ...
Staring down at the man kneeling before her
Strands of her hair danced on the breeze like a stallion's tail
Cinnamon skin, a stunning contrast to her brilliant white riding robes
Sandals strapped in crisscross up to her knees
Toes and fingers painted to match the jewel to be given her
And a wide purple sash, marked with her family crest
A crest that many of her kin had died protecting
This ... was her moment, true
A moment she had been preparing for her entire life
Tireless hours and countless trials endured
Spent in the grooming and educational endeavors
A lifetime of the artistic, physical, and intellectual disciplines required
The extraordinary skills needed to lead a country
And she had taken it as seriously as any that had come before
It was her way ... to be the best, at everything
Now, that conviction to excellence had brought her here
And due to her father's untimely passing, much sooner than expected.
His prayer done, the priest looked up for her winking approval, then stood
Holding the simple crown in both hands, he tenderly placed it
A single wide, plain gold band, with one large Tanzanite pear, dangling
The exquisite violet-blue gem, dancing on her forehead
Shimmering like the Merelani Hills, in the bright noontime sun
The shining, resplendent symbol to all the land
Of the binding promise she thus made
To be an oasis of prosperity, benevolence, and peace for all
The fierce but compassionate ruler of the desert sands
River unto her people ...
Queen ... of the Sahara.
(The Merelani Hills are near the very small area of Tanzania where Tanzanite is found ... it has never been discovered anywhere else, and in a mining area only 7 km long and 2 km wide).
Heaven's always weeping
Just to grace your lash
Cobalt iris' peeping
Midst your eyelid sash
Gem-like water shimmers
Rainbows on your face
Shiny dermal glimmers
Spark your sultry grace
Misty tresses dancing
Through a soaked ballet
Raindrops softly glancing
Scattered with your sway
Stormy weather magic
Conjured by your smile
Chances, waxing tragic
Should it not ... beguile.
* FIRST PLACE in the "88 Syllables" Poetry Contest, Joseph May, Sponsor. Syllables checked at HowManySyllables.com. *
* FIFTH PLACE in the "Early March 18 Premiere" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. *
Leaving behind the city grime
and angry crowded streets of crime.
The chimneys belching smoke and ash
clinging to the window’s sash.
Filling wagons with prized possessions,
facing our westward journey, like hessians.
“Westward Ho” was the call of the day;
we began our journey without delay.
A caravan of hopeful dreams
driving cattle herds in teams,
facing the harshness of rough terrain
wind, sand storms, and pouring rain.
The journey hard ~ without remorse,
losing lives throughout our course.
Crossing rivers and narrow mountain passes,
where rocky paths where thick with brush and grasses.
Fighting Indians and thieves we managed to survive
through cholera and wounds ~ the lucky stayed alive.
We buried souls in shallow graves ~ as we travelled on our way,
marking stones and crude crosses, we knelt down to pray.
To lessen our burden we made concessions
left behind ~ our family possessions
to arrive where the mountains meet the sky
and nights illuminated with stars up high,
where fertile valleys wave and roll
filling our dreams, filling our souls.
The Oregon Trail brought us here,
building a life, in a new frontier.