Best Senses Poems
(PoetrySoup Format)
Predictable, practical pose
as a simple sentence suggests,
accepting how the story goes,
while syllables shape silhouettes.
~ Simple scribbles serenade me ~
Paragraphs, hold poise and power
while illuminating passion,
and thoughts anticipate the hour,
forms flow in a feathered fashion.
~ Sonnets and sweet simplicity ~
Playful, parallel poetry
cause positions to part and pause,
dimensions divide, dive deeply,
and lines love to linger, because.
~ Synonyms sing a symphony ~
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* As thoughts twirl, they paint a picture *
Please the senses with Poetry
( 8 syllable count within each line )
Deeply dive into my Southern border. . again
again. . border around my existence ever so deeply
Somewhere over the Horizon
love is met gently
Images melt into one, opening the melody within- desires are found
found are the sensations leading to hills and tight spaces and soft images
Somewhere over the Horizon
fantasy meets reality
Kiss evenly along my Northern hemisphere taking the time to. . explore
explore. . delicate tips and melting lips and that Eastern border aching for a kiss
Somewhere over the Horizon
reality finds you and me
Trace the chills along my Western curves as pleasure whispers. . deep
deep. . into my Southern border once again, the melody you trace
Somewhere over the Horizon
we collide passionately
_______________
Just a little Scribble
~ Sweet Imagery ~
My garden is such a colourful sight,
with pretty roses and scented sweet peas.
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
Beautiful butterflies gently alight
on flowers dancing on the summer breeze.
My garden is such a colourful sight
Sweet night scented stocks abloom at midnight
their aroma is always sure to please.
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
Carnations in purple, scarlet and white
are visited by busy bumble bees.
My garden is such a colourful sight
A haven for birds I watch them in flight
they alight on peach blossom from the trees.
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
Pretty pansies smile in clay pots so bright
I love beautiful flowers such as these.
My garden is such a colourful sight
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
There Will Never Be Enough Time
There will never be enough time to hear unique
music of nature's songs in its birds, its insects,
in songs of the wind, or the sounds of the sea.
Or how earth breathes and is alive through its
caves and caverns, through its crystal rocks in
bell tones that ring soothing sounds for the soul.
There will never be enough time to visit all the
wondrous places this glorious earth has to offer.
Nor enough time to read all the talented poetry
our new technology provides us with online and
in favorite poetry books of masters long dead.
Poems that so inspire and leave hearts on fire.
There will never be enough time to view all the
sights in glorious colors of sunrises and sunsets,
of twilight's shadows and intricate silhouettes.
Nor the light on the mountains in verdant display
as mist weaves its magic o'er splendorous pines.
Sights that inspire thrill and enthrall so profoundly
with the beauty of it all, as each day's a divine gift.
There will never be enough time to breathe in life's
blissful perfume in scents of many flowers in bloom,
in lilac's, gardenia's and the magnolia's sweet scents,
or in petrichor's heavenly aroma from rain's dalliance.
In scents from the seaside or the mountain's fresh air,
in Mother Nature's great gifts of her fragrance so fair.
There will never be enough time to behold your love
in the grace of God's minion in spiritual connection.
That feeling of oneness, that special spark from all life
as it spreads contentment and warmth over body's
decay in knowledge we will all realize birth once again;
that all feelings matter in our Karmically created laws.
Yet, there IS enough time to give thanks and rejoice for
every life is precious no matter of life's circumstances.
3-3-19
*Dedicated To Robert Lindley whose poetry inspired this poem.
We push the pen to make you feel
the gentle tapping of the falling rain,
the stinging burn of the summer sun
the heavy heart of despair and pain.
We push the pen to make you see
the vibrant orange of a monarch wing,
the secretive soul hidden in our eyes,
the golden sunrise in early morning.
We push the pen to make you taste
the sweetness of love's first kiss,
the bitterness of heartbreaking defeat
the richness of pure chocolate bliss.
We push the pen to make you hear
the clear waters babbling in the brook,
the forgotten laughter of our inner child
the cracking spine of a brand new book.
We push the pen to make you savor
the pungent petals of the red rose,
the crisp aroma of a tart green apple
the autumn air that excites the nose.
We each push the pen in different ways
with our own tone of voice and mystique,
an art form that no other can duplicate,
no right or wrong, just wonderfully unique.
I have loved and been loved
I have shared ivory love bliss colors
I have ridden sapphire airs of crimson ecstasy
and touched silvery, tingling stars
I have felt sumptuous, silky, lilac joy move
and embrace my harlequin heart
I have melted to tangerine delight caresses
tingling my willing, fuchsia skin
I have been lifted and turned and tossed
on sensual, erotic waves that boldly travelled
thoroughly through and within me
to walk in early morning's still
to see the silence through the chill
to smell the rise of dawn from night
to hear the sky's unravelling light
to taste the distant fields of grass
to breathe the dry stone walls that pass
to touch the earth's pure pristine air
to catch the world - and hold it there.
Is there a way you can show me your silence?
This world is deafening to me
Can I find the words that I'm seeking..
Dream of a quiet place with only you speaking
Teach me to hear with my other senses
draw down all these distorted fences
Want to listen through the day with you
the whole day in a quiet song of you
just of you
learn from your solitude
I want to., now and forever
know what it is to feel through only those few
the touch of your hand
replace the fragments of a symphonic band
Invite me to your silent world
show me the other side of sound
a place where tranquil peace is found.
~~ Dedicated to a great world poet and friend Demetrios Trifiatis ~~
This global pandemic causes confusion from social isolation.
In a virtual world without human touch - there will be irritation.
When burdens of life, echo like chunks of tumbling rubble
mind is misplaced in intense injustice - inflicting trouble.
With no desire for fake and scentless artificial flowers,
the soul is soothed by buds which flourish in April showers.
To sit in smooth stillness of silence, admiring nature's grace,
a paradise of petals, guide emotions to that peaceful place.
Windmill palm spreads its charm among yellow, white, lilac roses,
darling dahlia in hues of pink and white gaze at fuchsia poses.
Lovable lobelia and bewitching begonia hang from baskets,
above a colony of bees living under a pen for rabbits.
Bees buzz among an abundance of blossoming nectar,
their aim to *bee their queen's favourite honey collector.
A poet's eyes will always admire vibrant butterfly wings,
a poet's ears will always listen to melodies a bird sings.
A flower garden is a silent sanctuary - inspiring one's muse,
like rain after a hot day, refreshing buds in twilight dews.
If fate and destiny depended upon the sowing of seeds,
how would you cultivate ideas to prevent the growth of weeds?
The Silent One
15 August 2020
*deliberately spelt as bee (not a spelling mistake)
And so it is…
When the trees don’t speak, barely a whisper in the wind,
Wet petals stuck motionless to the ground as if pinned
When there is no language to read in the sky,
Even with all the clouds passing by
And so it is…
When a bird must show you what is wrong
Bellowing out its loud bird song
Yet, to be grateful for…
After all, we cannot ask for more
When something isn’t heard, something else will replace it
When something isn’t seen, there’s all the more pieces to see fit
And so it is….
I hear, I hear, I see and feel for you
Everlasting feelings from my soul, reel with every view
And what I miss along the way
Does not matter in my heart today
tomorrow, or yesterday….
And so it is…
Heidi Sands
6/17/21
Placed among multiple 1st placements in All Yours (Jun17) Poetry Contest.
The golden hope
Of brighter tomorrow
Slides into the salty ocean
No steam or bubbles
Just the crimson joy of the clouds
Escorting
With their shifting ochre tones
While fiery orange irradiates
The grateful atmosphere
Until slowly
Ever so slowly
Into the ripples of the horizon's haze
The queen of the daylight
Slinks
Then is gone
Her wispy train of colour
Vanishing
As the blue king of the night
Claims his place
And sits in the throne room
Of the speckled sky
October sky, the 1st we celebrate, a seasons heart yearned treasured moment,
Sun rises, new beginnings, Enlightens nature, we seek atonement.
Dawn lights an autumn’s crisp chill, christening fallen leaves of tomorrow,
Decorated front porch memories, earthly heritage, smothered sorrow.
Passes monsoons, thirst quenched foliage, brought on dust storms, summer’s breeze.
Colors dancing, enchanting harvest, Orange golden glows, on resting trees,
Cinnamon sneaks by steaming cider, mulls a spiced aroma essence,
Caramel apple, child’s smile, escapes harvest reminisce.
A wonder inspired walk, a gentle kick to wisp away,
Tree’s blessings, fallen life, decorated memories of yesterday.
Crisp leaves falling, sprinkled mist, dripping dew drops land by chance,
Hearts pitter pattered warmth speaks, provoking sudden dance.
Fawns brook side, a mother’s love, protectant father thru seasons dressing,
Such beauty grace lingers freely, coins free, bestows natures blessing.
Falls door opens, touched hearts so deeply, awakened sober love outpours,
God’s mystique he created goodness, for all of us he adores.
Daylights autumn beauty, followed by nightfall’s tucked in kiss,
A glowing lullaby, we’re put to bed; our harvests moon we’ve greatly missed.
No litter, no rules, no society scent,
just peninsula pure soul content, ideally lent.
Awed and wowed with arms stretched wide,
I stand on Key’s narrow road, on narrow land,
surrounded by two sea gems and their sand.
This dream road sea-drowns, down south’s horizon
and thrills my innocence without even trying.
Western growth is dense and a fence in Gulf’s yard.
Her wave’s sirens are blue-salt diamonds
and I am mesmerized by their titan climbing.
East unfolds turquoise enchantments unmarred –
The playful, poetic Atlantic off guard,
bewitching and hypnotic in regard.
Dazzled, I sit in the sea, shoulders deep.
Powder soft ocean floor thrones me nicely.
I could sit the day in this sea so sultry.
Flirty, allusive, emerald joys leap
as languid, luscious wet meets sun’s glee,
sending my senses high where memories keep.
These expressive ocean blues and greens
are of patterns and ways, I have never seen.
Sensual and graceful, each sea touch is delight –
as soothing in feel as pleasure in my sight.
Before me spreads endless bounty of ocean glean.
Under Florida-kissed skies, I sit wet and serene.
I want to see that look
That shows the coming rapture
The face of wanton need
Passion's hungry capture
I want to see that look
Testament to lover's game
To know it’s all my doing
unleashing the untame
I want to see that look
Of sheer helpless submission
Knowing that your release
Is timed to my discretion
I want to see that look
Euphoria’s induction
That plea for more and more
A primal need production
I want to see that look
In hungry naked eyes
And hear those trembling lips
Supplicate, moan and sigh
I want to see that look
Before you’re blown away
Exquisite ecstasy triumph
The signature seductress way
I want to see that look
I WANT to see THAT look
Then I can taste my pleasure
For giving you satisfaction
Brings mine on beyond measure
Eileen
The pitch the peak of senses piqued
each completely
Let me see
searching my memory
biking down Laurier
locking eyes with a hawk flying in the opposite lane
is probably my most memorable favourite sight seen
Epitome of sound
if I went bird I couldn't pick only one
so another favourite song
the resting heartbeat
of a well loved machine
that deep rolling hum
felt before seen
the sound of love
so not that different from a bird
Smell's
another hard sense to pin down
puppy breath is one that'll have me rolling on the ground
Can't touch this
dancing rapt wrapped in a python
feeling the weight of it's smooth cool mass
feeling me
never more embraced
And then there's taste
this one's the most fun
Ripe Organic BC Bing Cherries
shared with a girlfriend over Scrabble
we lost track of each other
the game
everything
taking tiny little bites
enthralled with the pop of the skin
the sweet swollen flesh
scarlet oozing streaming down our...
I looked at her
and said what we both were thinking
"I feel like a dirty old man."
We finally got the cherry thing!
07/28/18
Viv Wigley's
Five Senses Poetry Contest