Best Sauntered Poems
I can still recall the look upon His face
Each thought still makes me go to that enchanting place
The vernal air was floral sweet and honey breezed
We roamed along Venice's zigzagged lanes and cobbled streets
On our secret rendezvous,We hugged affectionately under pastel gothic galleries
Greeted by the aromatic smell of freshly brewed roast coffee beans
Strolling along the pigeon-filled piazza San Marco
We wandered hand in hand,in the serenissima ancient floating land
Street musicians played their flutes.as We sat on a roof-top wooden terrace
We glanced at merchants sell hand-blown murano glass
by the picturesque Doge's palace
We ate a snack , then walked away towards the old opera house
which now has risen from its ashes.
We sauntered forward through little alleys
from where He bought me ,a gold painted venetian mask
To my surprise ,He had another gift,a wrapped up scarlet sheer laced basque
I peered at him through my dark lashes,He raised his left brow and flashed a smile
Expressed his charm in playful ways,in a flirtatious endearing style.
Boarded at last on a black gondola,cruised the lagoon and the canals
A few light kisses,a few soft brushes,waiting the bell's toll whilst in his arms
There we lay in waiting beneath the bridge of sighs
We sealed our kiss and promised lips,to the harmonic sound of chimes
He leaned on me,I welcomed Him,our spirits been entwined
Above,the sky has changed its colour,I watched the sun set in his eyes
All I am,I gave to him,my enduring heart- His sacred shrine
All that He is He gave to me in once upon a time
Not for the contest,but thanks for the 'Lovemaking in an ancient place contest,inspiration'.
This post is inspired by Ancient Venice and the tale of 'The Bridge Of Sighs'
The tale goes-If you kiss your loved one with the bell's toll of St,Mark's Basilica,
at sunset,beneath the bridge of sighs,the couple seals their love forever.
There is another tale to it,a sad one,but preferred to share the happy one : )
daylight hours
Ozzie and Ben at the picnic table
milkweeds dance across the board
chess match underway all day, every day
many stories shared, some repeated; neither cared
till knights and pawns cast long shadows
eyes straining, elders would bid farewell
violet sunsets escorted them home
one brisk morning, Ben waited for his friend
hours on end, until the orb began to sink
fading light from the spectral sunset
usher of regret
Ben sauntered past Ozzie's home
black wreath on the door
Ben cast chess pieces on the street
no longer wanted to compete
after that day, Ben’s zest for life faded away
sun still journeyed across the sky
but Ben rarely rose from bed
twilight hours found him there, recounting the past
tales he and Ozzie had told
in his mind never grew old
memories locked within his heart
shadowed recollections of a fallen chess king
Description of The Funeral of Atala (Funérailles d'Atala or Atala au tombeau), 1808, Louvre
I sauntered through the Louvre, observing art.
One painting struck me for its quality
of sadness; I could see a young man’s heart
was clearly broken by a tragedy.
The man is Indian; he’s in a cave
with an old man who holds the shoulders of
a woman they’ll be putting in her grave.
The Indian is mourning for his love.
He’s sitting, clinging to her draped knees, and
though for me this image was unclear,
a crucifix is clutched inside her hand.
Outside upon a hill, a cross is near.
The artist was recalling the sad scene
of Atala, a woman who was mired
in mental conflict. She was torn between
religious vows and the one man she loved.
Although the heroine wears virgin white,
some sensuality is shown with grace.
The day is waning, and the sun’s last light
caresses her fair bosom and her face.
The focus is this woman, but my eyes
go to the half-nude Indian whose skin
is brown, in contrast to the girl who lies
dead by her own hand for fear she would sin!
The novel that explored Atala’s woe
inspired more than one painter in the time
romanticism had begun to grow,
but Girodet’s work of art for me is prime!
Written May 9, 2017 for the Celebration of Art Contest of Kim Rodrigues
Note: I can't find a French syllable counter, but English puts the artist's name Girodet at three syllables.
I closed my eyes to the pain
and all I saw was beauty
your beauty
caressing the blues away
I gathered ice for the swelling
but certain swelling
I didn't want to go away
there were pills
penetrating from your pupils
staring directly into my sky
now a blushing hue
of scarlet
traipsing the plateaus
of your soul
it was more than mere love
or admiration
intimacy held the door
as other gentlemen sauntered away
I stayed, piercing my friendship
to your bosoms
suckling the nipple
of your beatitudes
laying down in the wisdom
written upon your skin
it was no sin to love you
and it never will
I will bide my time
just on the other side of the darkness
and in the morning
I'll be waking
in the sparkling aura
that is you
Oh no! What are YOU doing here?
I haven’t seen you in a year!
But I’m sure it’s perfectly clear,
I’m still red-dress fabulous, Dear!
You thought you could steal my spotlight?
You sauntered in like it’s your right.
But now you know, it's no fair fight—
I’m red-dress fabulous, tonight!
Surely you see, it’s my parade!
You’ve been upstaged. You’ve been out played!
And now your welcome’s been overstayed,
there in my red-dress-fabulous shade!
It's getting late and you should fly-
I bid you, red-dress-fabulous Good-bye!
January 15, 2019
Poem of the Day ~ January 17, 2019
He pulled up to the Triple "T" Ranch in a shiny Cadillac.
In his trailer was an Arabian steed with the finest tack.
He wore Tony Lama alligator boots and Calvin Klein jeans,
And a stylish Stetson hat - he looked like a man of means!
He strode to the corral where grizzled cowpokes lazed.
They chortled at the greenhorn, each of them amazed!
"Where's the boss?" he asked, "I'm seeking a position!"
"Over yonder" said they. (The boss eyed him with great suspicion!)
The boss sauntered over to see what the hullabaloo was all about.
"I'll handle this! You fellers git back to work!" he said with a shout!
He sized up the lad saying, "Son, I ain't impressed with them fancy labels!
But you're hired! Here's a shovel! Ya kin start by muckin' out them stables!"
Entry for Carolyn Devonshire's "Green Humor Rhymes" Contest
If you have not read my earlier ones, please check out the first in the series and see if you like the story. It will help this make more sense.
Ricky slowly sauntered up the stairs, as you know most little boys don't like going to bed. When Ricky got to his room I noticed the Bunk Bed against the wall and a dresser on an adjacent wall. Why I knew what these things were is beyond me, perhaps it is a part of hearing Ricky's mind. Ricky walked over to the window and placed me on the sill. This was great because it was a clear night and I could see the twinkling stars in the black velvet sky. The street itself was dark except for a few lights in other windows and an occasional car driving by.
I turned my attention to the room, Ricky's brother Roy climbed a ladder to the top bunk and Ricky got into the lower bunk. I could tell Ricky was scared about what was under the bed. I have to admit I felt much safer being over here on the window sill. If it had not been for the giant stuffed St. Bernard that he took to bed with him, who knows what those monsters might have done to him. His companion's name was Bully and I could tell they had been friends a long time. As Ricky was begining to sleep I felt this falling sensation and he jerked awake. I can't express how that scared me, I thought I was falling and that would not be good, after all I am made of glass. Thankfully a few minutes later Ricky was fast asleep and I drifted along with him. It had been a very good day. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....
If you are enjoying this tale let me know and I will continue on with it. Thanks for reading it.
A deserted old house stood off the county road a little way.
To keep apace of living I rushed by it almost every day.
For years I'd wanted to visit there to see what secrets it held,
And perhaps find out about the folks who in it had once dwelled.
Towering oaks stood erectly as if to guard the old place.
Clinging vines held weathered clapboards in precarious embrace.
I mused as I opened the latch on the sagging garden gate,
"Why was it forsaken and left in such a forlorn state?"
Floors squeaked and mice skittered as I sauntered down the hall.
Abruptly, something caught my eye on the faded papered wall.
'Twas a grim, unsmiling portrait of a Victorian family of eight.
I wondered who they were and I pondered about their fate.
Off the hall was the parlor where stood a brick-lined fireplace.
I could fancy the cheery flames glowing upon each happy face,
As they celebrated gala affairs or gathered for family prayers.
Alas, the old folks passed on - their children seeking other affairs.
What had been a vibrant, loving home was now a house in shambles,
Almost overtaken by massive oaks, shrubs and tangled brambles.
But my downcast mood was uplifted despite the engulfing gloom,
As I saw roses planted so very long ago now in magnificent bloom!
So sweet a kiss
The murmuring tunes of Spring
In the fragrant breath of night
Hums within my slumbering ears.
Like the whispering trees dancing
In the softest dews descending
From the vapours of the skies
When the soothing night
Was young with the glimmering moon of May.
The poor labouring clouds expanded wide
In the muted distance ripe with coldness
While the storming of the Eastern wind
Drifted through the blossoming fields
Graced by the sultry springs in the lulling hours.
I pulled the weary drapes
When the night grew old with silence
From a crystal window
Mirrored against the dumb fields
Black with the night.
A soft mist exudes the dead wind
Curled around the nodding branches.
Then I stealed away to the vacant spot
Where a crackling fire
Invaded the mournful breath of silence.
Lipsing sounds intrudes the night
Upon the quiet slopes and verdant span
Where the blossoms gently bow
Kissing soft the silver spray
Fluttering in the starry distance.
There sauntered I
Under the gladsome sky
To pluck a cherry from its stem
Outstretched beneath the sobbing moon
That in the dawning misty hours
That silver orb of light expires
When the sun had greet the day
With a golden sigh!
A sensation I’d never had before
Overcome by helplessness when he touched my hand
Attraction ignited as he first entered the door
Warmth filled me as we sauntered ‘cross the sand
Giggling ‘neath starlight, so happy to find my man
His dark, wavy hair I brushed my fingers through
The first time we kissed, my heart raced fast
I melted in his strong arms, passion grew
He was so brilliant, had integrity and class
What he saw in me, I just couldn’t grasp
He was older than I, but it didn’t matter
I’d never loved before and never did again
He was mature, my heart he wouldn’t shatter
As a virgin danced on the beach; fate had a plan
Deep in my heart, I knew he’d be my husband
*First love entry for Frank's contest
“Fear whispers worry into your ear, anxiety into your hopes and doubt into your faith… Love whispers hope and peace” – by poet
With a brain washed pale
By voices thundering
Silent screams echoing through me
Clearing away the debris
Of disappointment and disillusionment
My mind darkened on a clear night
No stars twinkled through my thoughts
And the blaze of my heart
Was smothered beneath the darkness
That was like a consuming fire
Shooting flames through my mind
Resonating fear and doubt
Clouding my soul with black suspicion
Breaking away all the hope and faith
Pouring disgust through my veins
Marking the way for desolation
Despair and waves of guilt
That sauntered across my emotions
Coloring me in hues of gray
Bipolar disorder screamed
Beneath a mask of whispers
And I cried – tears of desperation
Tears that flowed out of me
Relentless, unceasingly
And I prayed for peace
That only God could bring to me
Philippians 4:7 (King James Version) And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
March 23, 2021
She’d kissed a lot of boys, and some kissed great,
but few of those guys understood romance.
She thought she knew what kissing style was best,
but she had not yet met the boy from France!
Into her life one day he sauntered in.
His smile was soft, his eyes as dark as coal.
She thrilled to feel his fingers on her skin
as with his gaze he deeply plumbed her soul.
When their lips touched, she melted into him.
It was a kiss like none she’d known before.
With happiness she filled up to the brim.
The young man was so easy to adore!
Like things most precious, that smooth, tender kiss
was part of Anna’s youth – a fleeting bliss.
Aug. 26, 2021
For the Anna And The French Kiss Poetry Contest of Mystic Rose Rose
Oh boy, she was gorgeous and I made mention of bed
She said she really liked me but she won’t until we’re wed
She often said there’s stuff that really ought to be discussed
But I could only think of getting hitched to quench my lust
We did it, we were spouses, and our first dance was real close
I thought that she would realise who wanted who the most
We left our guests to party and I hoped I would impress
And once we were alone I ripped apart her wedding dress
And that was when I wished that we had dallied before marriage
For there and then I found ‘her’ quite extensive undercarriage
‘She’ said, “Why don’t you try it out, I’m sure we will be fine.”
I said, “Why would I play with yours… when I could play with mine?”
Well, ‘she’ looked shocked and what she said caused all my toes to curl
‘She’ looked at me and muttered, “Oh! I thought you were a girl.”
I said, “Are you quite bonkers for you’re talking really weird,
I’m stood here and I’ve got a most extensive ginger beard!”
‘She’ sauntered to the bed and threw me down upon my back
And said, “I’ve got a gift for you and it is never slack.”
‘She’ nipped into the bathroom saying, “You can be the wife.”
‘She’ came back with a sexy smile… and a massive knife!
Bull Moose
I was sitting on a rock out near Cripple Creek
Panties at my ankles, I had to take a leak
He sauntered out beneath a tree
Stopped and simply looked at me
Old grey legs, a lengthy beard
Eight foot tall he had appeared
Shoulder, hump and head held high
Antlers reaching to the sky
No pack of wolves, no big bad bear
This guy attacked, they wouldn’t dare
For with his rack and slashing hooves
This forest beast had deadly moves
But getting back to what I did
Wet panties up my legs I slid
Off the rock so quick I ran
Friends all giving me a hand
I laughed and cried once in the car
This memory a lasting scar
For friends told friends and they told friends
And round and round it never ends
So if you’re up on Cripple Creek
And find yourself a need to leak
Leak with caution - be aware
This old Bull Moose still lives up there
Uncle Mike
True story I believe. There was a picture of a moose on facebook along with a description of its size and actions. One comment was from a female friend of the poster about her encounter. I put the two together as a poem.
Winter's dance was long and she moved very slow
She never held you tight, she was always so cold
And when she shook her hair the dance floor would be covered in snow
And then her icy stare would pierce you and she'd give you a frosty scold
But though she seemed at times so mean and undignified
The beauty of this lady could never be denied
Spring's dance was lively, she let her hair down
When she shook her hips there were blossoms all around
She was warmer than her sister who wore the icy gown
The melody of spring was a beautiful sound
Summer was a party girl she danced to rock and roll
She was quite romantic and loved those moonlit strolls
She loved the fragrant roses and her kiss was very warm
Birds would sing when she appeared, enchanted by her charm
When she shook her hair, butterflies fluttered out
And everyone on the dance floor would twist and shout
Autumn was a beautiful girl
She danced a little slower as round and round we whirled
She had a soul for rhythm and blues
And sad songs were her muse
She would make her leaves fall all over the dance floor
We danced all through the night until her leaves were no more
Then her cold sister entered the ballroom with her chilly air of elegance
And I sauntered over to this icy beauty and once again we danced
To all these lovely ladies I could never say goodbye
They will dance forever to melodies upon a changing sky
~ ~ --