Best Scanned Poems
Believing that marriage was ordained of God;
that, like a seed, it needed constant nurturing,
she sowed her deep devotion with a hope
that stretched beyond an ordinary scope.
That hope scanned schisms that had left her desolate-
until it reached the heavens with her prayers.
Time and time again, her spouse complained or failed to do small things
essential to cementing the marriage bond.
With unusual restraint, she held her tongue, forgave. . . and listened.
If matrimony were the fire in a hearth, she supplied the kindling and the logs;
then lauded him for twigs that on occasion he tossed in.
Some nights she’d lay a weary head upon the chest
of the one she called her husband (when he was fast asleep and didn’t know).
In those moments, she felt the beat of that heart he never showed to her.
With humbleness she supplicated God
that she might find connection with her mate.
She wondered and she wondered why. . .if thoughts, invisible,
which were transmitted to the Lord, were able to be recieved by Him,
why could not her words, directly spoken to the one on earth she loved, be heard?
Daily on her knees, she telegraphed celestially with a faith most extraordinary. . .
and wisdom came. Her love would not be broken, and she grew.
The seed she’d planted took root too and grew until there came a time. . .
she laid a graying head upon the chest
of one that was her husband (not just in word only);
a someone who now watched HER as she drifted off to sleep.
With his heartbeat strong in her ear,
she heard him whisper softly, “I love you” as he kissed her cheek goodnight.
For Audrey Carey's "To Err Is Human to Forgive Divine"
I wrote a poem for a contest
And it got some great comments
I thought it was one of my best
I felt very confident
Soon the contest was judged, the winning list came out
Victory was not in doubt
I scanned the winners list from the middle down
I thought my poem would have placed
But I soon began to frown
My name wasn't there ....It was as if I wasn't even in the race!
Can't win 'em all I guess
No need to stress
But when I went to my inbox and saw "Congrats on your win"
I thought they made a mistake
So I scanned the winners list once more
Then suddenly I stopped...
I was surprised for sure
My name was the first one on top!
“Stardust is falling!” I heard my son cry,
his small precious face looking up at the sky.
“Stardust?” I echoed, and thought how my son
had such a vivid imagination.
“Yes, Mommy. Look!” he said, taking my hand.
He led me outside; the sky I then scanned.
I felt an enchantment, for what did I see?
Myriads of stars shone down brightly at me.
And the harder I stared, the more that it seemed
the heaven above was like something we dreamed.
The sky was a forest, and each star - a tree -
was blazing in splendor against ebony.
A celestial wildfire spread there overhead.
“See, Mommy, see?” my dear child then said.
No dust falling down from those stars did I see,
but his eyes now looked downward ecstatically.
When I followed his gaze, my shock was so sweet.
A blanket of stardust I found at our feet!
Believing that marriage was ordained of God;
that, like a seed, it needed constant nurturing,
she sowed her deep devotion with a hope
that stretched beyond an ordinary scope;
scanned schisms that had left her desolate-
until it reached the heavens with her prayers.
With unusual restraint, she held her tongue
countless times. . . and listened.
If matrimony were the fire in a hearth,
she supplied the kindling and the logs;
then lauded him for twigs
that on occasion he tossed in.
Some nights she’d lay a weary head
upon the chest of one she called her husband
(when he was fast asleep and didn’t know).
and she'd feel the beat of a heart he wouldn’t show.
With humbleness she supplicated God
that she might find connection with her mate.
She wondered and she wondered why. . .
if thoughts, invisible, which were transmitted
to the Lord, by Him were then received,
why could not her words directly spoken
to the one on earth she loved, be heard?
Daily on her knees, she telegraphed celestially
with faith extraordinary. . . and wisdom came.
Her love would not be broken, and she grew.
The seed she’d planted too
took root and grew until there came a time. . .
she laid a greying head upon the chest
of one that was her husband(not in word alone),
who watched her as she drifted off to sleep.
With his heartbeat strong in her ear,
she heard him whisper softly, “I love you”
as he kissed her cheek. “Goodnight.”
For the contest FAITH/ sponsored by A Rambling Poet
How the Heck!
We’d lost our cat; I searched the house calling
“Here kitty, kitty” and outside we
scanned the streets, all to no avail.
Later, in the bedroom, I
heard one loud “Me-ow” and
saw through the crack of
one closed drawer
two green eyes
peering
out.
A true story. To this day, we don't know how she ended up
in that high dresser drawer with it being closed!
1/21/2017 - an etheree For Broken Wing's Form E Poetry Contest
"We're going to need a bigger fig leaf."
Proclaimed the teacher to her staring class
As the model removed the last of his attire.
A collective, almost silent gasp
and the clatter of a fallen brush on parquet floor
confirmed this to be true.
Among the downcast eyes of most
was an accusing glance from pink-faced girl
to blushing secret lover.
Others scanned the body top to toe;
some fixed their gaze;
not all upon the model's eyes.
The over-fondling of a brush,
the squeezing squirting of thick paint from tube
A pencil slowly rotated in a mouth;
gestures, lost of innocence,
in steamy, thickening room.
A closeted sigh.
A wistful moan.
The heavy silence broke;
"As you may have guessed," the teacher coughed
"The subject for your sketch today is Adam."
This or That, Vol 11 Poetry Contest Fig Leaf, placed 3rd
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Date wrote: 31st March 2022
I scanned the shelves to pick a book
That seemed to be appealing,
From those adjacent to my shoes
To those up near the ceiling.
Selecting some that might work out,
I skimmed the first few pages,
For mostly I can tell by then
A story that engages.
A half an hour passed before
I found a prime contender,
The author someone in whose words
I’d happily surrender.
I checked it out and brought it home,
Some reading time in store
But soon enough it came to me –
I’d read this book before!
I stood in the corner with stars in my eyes,
such magical thoughts on display
A poetic verse coming as no surprise,
It's funny the things I might say
While counting each petal I pulled from a rose
and leaving the mess far behind
I reached to the heavens, the tip of my toes
for something that fell from my mind
With sparkles and sprinkles in colors so bright
to carry the less of the load
So tied up in knots that were pulled ever tight
and scattered about on the road
I pulled out my pen and the cleanest white sheet,
a canvas of paper in hand
To write down these thoughts if we ever should meet,
just hoping you would understand
I folded it neatly and tucked it inside,
then scanned every face in the crowd
When spying such beauty, you just couldn't hide,
my heart started beating quite loud
I summoned the courage and called out your name,
your smile it grew ear to ear
You ran through the people, I just can't explain
that something so special was near
I loved you forever but that time has gone,
still you were my wonderful dream
With every sunset and every dawn,
your beauty a part of my scene
You grabbed me and kissed me with stars in your eyes,
just hoping my thoughts I had penned
I gave you the poem so you'd realize,
I'll love you forever again
On either side the boarded footpath lie
Still pools in swamp with sinister reflection
Dull images and scenes of life gone by
Suggest to heart a darkness and dejection
But did you notice, let the view beguile
Where sun now lights the pines in vivid green
And winter-stripped to elegant profile
The leafless trees’ bare symmetry is seen
.............................
The beech hedge brown and desiccated stands
Each leaf crisp dry from which all life has fled
In faded form the present aspect scanned
What chance that it may yet renew and spread
But did you notice, hid in twigs concealed
There, tiny buds await a sign to grow
Then full imbued with reborn life they’ll yield
A Spring apparel, bounteous life bestow
.............................
The nation now divided in contention *
Each faction faces others they despise
With hatred they wish for their sole ascension
To bring on their adversary’s demise
But did you notice that we still have choice
Where freedom reigns, select our destination
In Liberty we yet may raise a voice
And speak unchained in self determination
* Choose your own ‘nation’
I dreamt it in stone
whilst I softly slept
unhurried thoughts
as others wept
exist as one
that is the dream
but the dream is undone
kneeling and wretched
prostrate on the ground
serene and believing
salvation found
by the light of the moon
it's possible to see
the most favoured
most becoming
version of me
I've taken up space
fashioned as ornate
with no way to speak
as a protected state
but thoughts run rife
impossible to still
what bodies can't encapsulate
within the shape that they fill
my bones tell a story
my mind doesn't understand
I agreed wholeheartedly
as horizons are scanned
let me be enveloped by the sandman
lost in a faraway stare
just outside of time
perhaps my purpose lies there
The graveyard's vast, the grass was high.
I picked my way amongst the graves
and thought, Like these, I'll some day die.
I scanned the rows of headstones there -
it looked as though no one came near;
I'd come to show at least I care.
So many stones, the names now gone,
anonymous, forgotten, lost...
So can it be the soul lives on?
written 12th October for Constance's Tercet contest: Death
I worked through the day and the night
Got the syllables and spelling just right
My imagery was ‘simply divine’
I hoped that a placement was mine
Got awarded the Poem of the Day
‘Congratulations’ the folks they did say
I sat back and relaxed in my chair
At my perfect poem I did sit and stare
I was really so proud of my work
Saw the winners… felt a right jerk
My eyes scanned down the winner’s list
There was an error - my name had been missed!
My Members Contest list was showing N/A
Guess it really just wasn’t my lucky day
12~22~14
Contest:-Contest – Jerry T Curtis
~awarded 1st place~
On this last railroad journey, all’s ablaze
new stars pulse over veins of feathered trees,
and melt in their faint blinks of night's decrees
they flicker through me white solace and haze.
Quite often, I have scanned the moonlight’s trail
as winds can pierce into my heart and know
my need for strength will always thrive, and row
until end’s trip, when grinds of wheel travail.
Much like this ride, I'll walk the endless course
as seen among wayfarers’ eyes dark gold
where swallows reel above to reinforce
the edge of night, far fair, I do behold.
For hope is always wishful, always strong
and, only then shall my dreams rush, headlong.
Soap Opera Titles Contest: Janis Thompson
10/25/2018
---------------------
Spenserian Sonnet ~ 'abab bcbc cdcd ee.'
The flush of spring has bought new life to romp in greening feed,
along the border with the forest where domestic flocks do breed.
Managed through the daylight by the fear of being seen,
the sentinels of death await for night when they are keen.
Though distant lights may glow as beacons for the lost,
guerrilla’s stream out silently in pack form to accost,
and satisfy their lust for blood without no grace or fear,
frustrating yet the hand of man. By dawn they disappear.
Far reaching eyes in anger lies where wilderness is dense,
I know my soul is being watched beyond the border fence,
locked into disappointment where flies gather at my feet;
There’s blood-stained wool on rotting flesh, with no thought to eat.
Immediate is my judgment for no trial is needed here,
I am the executor of the guilty, who dare to wander near.
Survival is the wisdom tho’ for the wily streetwise cur,
the frenzy’s not in pattern! It’s too late for where they were.
The night is cold and lonely with the urge for needed sleep,
but as the shepherd of my flock I must protect my sheep.
A pack will form again when blood is dry and lost its scent;
Until the last sheep drops their guard, no dog shall here repent.
The lead appeared Alsatian bounding surprised in its flight,
for its escape back to the bush in my sudden cheating light.
The echo of my three-o-three thundered through the hills,
with-in the change of retrospect. ‘Tis I who wants the kills.
Death took a holiday tonight where death was meant to be,
my shot was high or wide or low, ‘twas more shadow I could see.
Silence returned and in my light that scanned the field and scrub,
I knew that I was being watched, beyond a woodland shrub.
TEMPEST
Twin limestone tors thrust up through valley floor
Like isles or icebergs in a calm flat sea
Deep green save where shear rock can hold no spore
To spawn in fecund niche a vine or tree
Midday and all is calm untroubled, still
In tactile heat, all movement paused, restricted
No hint of ought that might disturb our will
A landscape placid, as in paint depicted
But look to sky the seeds of change are sown
There, signs portend a transformation near
Those gentle clouds mere cumuli have grown
To cumulonimbus, thrust t'ward stratosphere
And therein is enormous might enclosed
Stored energy, that soon must be released
Unleashing primal power unopposed
The laws of Nature never to be breached
Now lightning flickers o'er far mountain peaks
Faint thunder echoes round steep valley walls
The breeze accelerates and chills to speak
A warning of the fast approaching squall
The charge in air: has swallows energised
To move from circling low ‘tween tree and house
Their flight plans now are recklessly revised
To helix soaring t'ward the threatening clouds
A steady light drum roll on roofs - sound train
Starts gently then crescendo ends the prelude
Announcing clear the now impending rain
Prodigious splashes transformed to a deluge
The waves of rain traverse our panorama
Gauze curtains drawn by cosmic stage hand's might
Relentless, recasting features as of dark drama
Familiar scenes are shrouded, hid from sight
Now random electric arcs flare bleak view scanned
Cacophony of thunder rules all sound
Awesome darkness and confusion on the land
All visual anchors cast in shade spellbound
But in this world each cycle must be ended
Perhaps reverse events that had us unmoored
The drama, soon is played out and expended
Peace, light and order gradually restored
Known reference points can once again be seen
The twin rock peaks come clear through rain-washed air
Clouds make fine-spun white wraps for hills now green
We're reassured by prospects known and fair
Is this chronicle an allegoric tale
Of human life not granted free of strife
Would we choose bland existence without travail
Or fain confront the magnificent storms of life