Best Serine Poems
How I love the Wuthering heights rugged landscape
Of the wild savage moor
As I stand upon a rocky outcrops
High on a windswept Tor.
Under the blue sky canopy before me
Lies sweeping lush green and tawny vales and rolling hills
Land so wild and unforgiving
As the cold wind begins to bite and chill
Carpets of lilac heather providing shelter
For grouse rabbit and mouse
Somewhere in the distance
I catch the site of an old dilapidated stone farm house
Battered and in decay by the harsh temperamental weather
Every day.
Silver ribboned streams gushing and rushing ever flowing
Sparkling in the sun as lazy trout swim and pout
Trying to kiss the sky.
Little white woolly dots majestically graze on idle days
As the ravens take pieces of wool for nesting away
Suddenly the sky turns black and the icy rain begins to pound
And somewhere in the far distance I hear a deep rumbling sound
Cracks of light flash in the sky and the thunder now close by
Gives out a mighty roar
I feel the power shake the ground where I stand
And it shakes me to the core
A mixture of fear and acceleration sweeps over me
As I watch far from safety in awe.
Suddenly as it started the thunder stops and the sky begins to clear
A rainbow crescent appears and the lark twitters once moor
As the started wild ponies and heads of deer reappear
The overpowering smell of damp earth
I'm soaking wet my cheeks red and aglow
I'm lost in the wild untameable timeless beauty
That I have come to love and know
In my isolation I find peace of mind so serine
I am not just a visitor
But at one with nature and part of the scene.
Peter Dome.Copyright.2015. June.
Categories:
serine, adventure, beauty, creation, nature,
Form:
Free verse
A place we call Home
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The cold westerly winds rolls down the hills and across the plains
The frost on the ground as thick as a man’s hand
The air drawn in chills the body to the bone
This is the Central Plateau, the place we call home
…
Living here you need to be strong and resilient
Prepared to take what- ever Mother Nature brings
Wake to a snow blanket or biting winds and freezing rain
Or just maybe experience a hot sunny day
…
Life is hard for the high country people
Work to be done what-ever the weather
Wood to cut to keep the home fires burning
Feeding out or mustering or maybe a hunt
Keeps meat on the table and the dogs with a full gut
…
We choose to live and work in the high country
For the place is special, gives us a natural high
No place for the hustle and bustle of towns and cities
This place so peaceful, serine and quite
…
A visit to the high country an experience you will never forget
The extremes of weather, the rolling plains and the craggy mountains
The glistening waters of the streams, the rivers and lakes
The majestic Cider Gum, the snow gums and mountain heath
…
For the Central Plateau is like nowhere else on earth
For the dream time of old, the pristine wilderness
The night sky glistening and sparkling so very close
I love the high country, the place I call home
Categories:
serine, beautiful, home, places,
Form:
Are you death
Why yes I am
Is that who you called
Is that what you want
I am also life
If that's what you want
So which is it you seek
Centuries of faith I see
Have passed between us
There is love between us
Is there, not sure I see
You might wanna get your
Priorities in line between us
If I am death, are you afraid
And better yet, should you be
What do you see in memories
More positives, more negatives
Could it be you are a companion
To death, And not even know it
Standing on the edge Strong,
passive, calm, serine !
Categories:
serine, death,
Form:
Imagism
Every afternoon she picks up her pen
then and only then dose her emotions
bend, they bend to connect with her pen
her emotions descend to her pen, her
honesty and truth her beauty and vibrant
youth sheds on paper like rain shed on blades
of grass, and all her friends laugh and ask
why does she write, she laughs and ask
why did you even care to ask ?She says this
ink and quill can help to pursue and articulate
the greatness in you ,it helps expose and shows
the many hues in you, if those hues remain
in you. Then People will look at you, and ask who
are you, but I write so people can read me,
so they can smell and breath me, so they
can begin to comprehend and properly conceive
me, believe me you to should write.They laugh and
walk away but her true friends ink and quill
stays, weaving thoughts healing wombs carrying
her along the days, words has helped her in many ways,
it has helped her slay the many beast of her days. She is
a Nubian queen a writing machine, her scenes like a cat
so keen, her mind so pure and clean she seems to have
preened her self so clean through writing ,through igniting
thoughts on still waves of her inner serine, of heavenly
wisdom ink, as she begins to think the heavens shake a
brontide unfurls from heavenly brain storm. She is the goddess
of wisdom, she says she writes for the health of her mind,
I laugh saying my life and mind isn't so healthy would
you care to be mine, with a woman like you I might be inspired
to write novels of romance and slow dance, after glasses of wine.
Then and only then will I have a healthy mind
She smiles,I become her next poem.....
Categories:
serine, art, care, write, people,
Form:
Free verse
*When Your Friends Hurt You*
I was walking along a serine meadow and along came a bee. He buzzed along so merrily. He enticed me to show him the way to the most beautiful stream. I was filled with contentment and I thought so was he. Out of nowhere he stung me. I felt the stinger go into my flesh and the room began to spin. I became nauseous and knew I was attacked. How could my friend who I was trying to help hurt me so badly? All I tried to do was help him out.
Friendship is the strangest thing. Just when you think everything is going perfectly along comes a stinger. It almost seems like it was a cold and calculated attack too because he got so close to me and then he dropped the boom. My idea of friendship and his were nowhere in the same dictionary. His friendship broke my heart and his venom almost took my life from me. What was I to do?
… I retaliated with love…
Love is the most powerful counter-venom. It is! Once you repay their cruelty with love it leaves them defenseless. They thought you would lash back and instead you chose to love them. It’s a most amazing plan! It is the plan of the God I serve to imitate Him in all that I do. Even if I get stung by one million stingers along the way. Love your enemies just as you love your friends. It keeps things so much simpler that way. Just treat everyone the same. You can never go wrong. The Word of God says in this way you can inherit eternal salvation. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Love the Lord your God with everything that is within you too!
Love...the best counter venom.
gwendolen rix
6-19-15
Categories:
serine, feelings, friendship, life, love,
Form:
Pastoral
Words
are
Like Birds
They fly out of clear blue skies,
out of thick gray smother,
out of black thunderclouds,
out of serine, colourful sunsets.
Words may be like Majestic, Eagles,
swift and elusive as Humming Birds,
enlightening and silent as wise old Owls,
or as irresponsible as the Cuckoo Bird.
Words may be like god’s, Sparrows,
keen as the Hawk,
permeating as the Woodpecker,
or as elegant as Swans.
Words may be as eloquent as many a Song Bird,
or as beautiful as Peacocks,
they may be like the Flamenco,
or scavengers, like Vultures.
Words may ascend to great heights , or stoop so low.
Words soar into one’s world, upon veiled wings,
leaving their messages to be deciphered
by the discerning ear, the subconscious mind.
Words are dissipated by the winds that carry them aloft.
But seldom has their flight been lofty !!
Words, and one’s word, seldom carries any weight,
for deception seems to be word’s ever lasting fate.
B. J. “A” 2
January 16th, 2013
Categories:
serine, introspection, may,
Form:
Free verse
Untitled
We dance across the heavens, like shining stars,
to the never ending beat of our universes heart.
Its song, time – sometimes – becomes dull, grey,
aches of sentiment, in the throes of lofty sentimentality
that becomes red dew, flowering over the cornea, of a rose
releasing its sweet fragrance, ever so slightly, lightly
down the sides of its imaginary nose.
Sentiment, envy, desire, so anther life goes.
B. J. “A” 2
April 18th 2003
Untitled
I stand on the edges of a desire,
a desire to be all that, – in this life –
I have never been, – in all likelihood –
could never be, for it is not in me.
Yet, in me, it is, as I read biographies,
autobiographies, ancient histories,
I see the dream – illusive as it seems.
Heavy sheets of liquid crystal hang,
fall before these old brown eyes.
Only, the telling comes in ripples
that dot the landscape of reflections
painted upon the cold black surface,
of a pavement that lays before me.
A sad portrait is painted every day,
it comes in the reflections, of those reflections.
Life has flown me through valleys richly
carpeted in jewels, emerald green and serine.
Life has dragged me over rough, ancient mountains,
dropped me over sharp edged, rugged cliffs.
Life has hauled me across screaming creeks,
down raging rivers without a paddle.
Life has thrown me into the fires of hell,
upon plumes of smoke, sent into the ether.
Life has guided me into heavenly spaces
where one will find beautiful places.
Life has shipped me into the shadow less abysses
of blackness where light of night stars hang
in the endless skies where one opens eyes
B. J. “A” 2
April 19th 2003
Untitled
Life lived – looking back –seems to have been as poverty laden
as the life that lays before these tired old feet – its faden
with inactivity, motiveless, motionlessness passages of time.
The richness in both – lost to another time and state of mind.
And who really may care ?, about the poverty in both.
And who really may care ?, about the richness of both.
And who really may care ?, about the memories of both.
And who really may care ?, about the life or death of both.
With Easter at hand.
It seems the hand is the only one who cares.
Assumed death ?, assumed resurrection ?
B. J. “A ” 2
April 20th 2003
Categories:
serine, life, universe,
Form:
Rhyme
How can you be just there,
pulsing and throbbing in the background
moving,
caressing me,
becoming part of my body,
taking over my motor skills
making me move to your hypnotic tempo,
taunting me to go harder,
fluent with the melody
as if it was just another nerve impulse.
When I'm alone
your the one I crave,
desire,
fiend,
can't live without your magnetic grab.
Your the one that removes my anguish,
the one that heals my scars,
replenishes my soul
and keeps my demons at bay,
truly soothing the savage beast.
Surrounded by a crowd
of similar creatures
I become one with the masses,
a collective being,
stepping and grooving
to the tones.
So many styles,
and moves,
metamorphing into a ritualistic desire
making one and all harmonious,
and serine,
as we dance away
Society's depression and sorrow
like when the wolf howls out his pain,
leaving it on the clouds to carry away.
Categories:
serine, celebration, dance, inspirational, music,
Form:
Free verse
I am soft and serine I am a color that's been seen.
A whisper in your ear peaceful sounds you will hear.
Like the sea sometimes I roar as I hit the shore.
For I am the color blue and I am all around you.
JSergi
Contest: The Sound of Color
Categories:
serine, beauty, color, sea, sky,
Form:
Rhyme
On Open Field
Giant oak consumes the landscape girth
Tears come down, gain momentum, form as rain
Sun beams and wind twist it into bands that land
Strike each leaf and branch with spring like action
Between each drop of water and speck of light
There is a story to be told
Grass abounds out there about the tree
Expands for miles to horizons deep in green
Drinks in the sun beams, wind and rain
Nourished and serine
Sings underneath the giant tree
On open field
Categories:
serine, celebration, identity, nature, rain,
Form:
Free verse
June fever rises, rolls on the tide of Spring
Kaleidoscopic landscape overtaken flows
Sunlight reveals colors tranquil undergrowth
Imagination grows, open to interpretation
Streaming quietly downstream in morning meanderings
Fills up with joy, calendars engagements, holidays at play
Flowers along the hillside bloom
Lift skyward soon on carpeted serine and greenery
Landscaped with you in mind
Narrow portals, corridors of time include intrusions
Such beauty rises in that sacred slower moment
In no hurry, no place to go without your light to guide
The sun comes up, erases every memory of Winter
Eye sensations coronations pretty
Shows off the lovely skin of pink
Dresses of pale petals thin begin
Worn fashionably only in this season
Bursting with enthusiasm on grasses green
That which light penetrates so easily
The dark stem, like life, is what you make of it in May
June is yellow, happy, golden fringes sing
Radiate with light as birds take flight above your hair
This is the time to drink in rain droplets from the leaf
Speak to your flowers gently to be clear
They are only here with delicious fragrance for a while
In Spring, bring plenty of blankets for a picnic
Warmth is precious
Don't step on flowers
Sip wine instead
Eat sliced French bread with jam
Enjoy the wonders on grass lands of love
An open umbrella would be nice
To shade the sun
To sit and watch the show begin
Soft rain comes clinging on the leaf
A refreshing mist rolls in
No need for speaking
June flowers say everything
Reality kissed in secret on the wind
Categories:
serine, adventure, beautiful, flower, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
Radiance, shining, illuminating translucency
sky's vast, expansive blue richoting and rivaling ocean views
loose limbs and bashful expression lay scattered across the placid sky
divinity fixed in a space unaffected by man
white clouds swirl, wrapping like ivy around golden gates.
Ultraviolent inferno lay below while serine holy oceans
of blue rain above. Raining fire and the rising phoenix of men collide
as Ouranos opens up to lay down the law of God.
conflicting and drifting of worlds, un-consecrated and pure entities that
will forever clash at the expense of humanity.
Categories:
serine, angel, conflict, heaven, paradise,
Form:
Free verse
Stop and listen to God's Nature.
A thing of beauty worth waiting for
The wind as it sweeps through the high mountain peeks
The Ocean as its waves crash upon beaches sandy white
Birds as they wing their way through the air
Lighting on a tree limb and singing their song
That God has given the Aves with such care
So its call to its mate with none other compares
This is God’s Offering of His awesome love
A special gift to treasure in our mortal soul
Include me Oh Lord when You take the hands
Of those that believe in Your Kingdom so Grand
Yes take my hand Jesus walk me through your plan
Help me accept the plan that I am
And give me a heart with love that is sure
Like You constructed with nature serine and so pure
David Pennington
Categories:
serine, faithme, love, me,
Form:
Narrative
I have no will of my own
Her presence in my mind stands alone
Timeless beauty
She knows who she is
She has set her goals
Like a diamond
Both beautiful and cold
Her heart is on fire
With passion and desire
Elegantly serine
She knows who she is
Her devotion, her soul
Rock of faith
Graceful and bold
She may be crazy
As she picks a daisy
Refined playfulness
She knows who she is
She is an unfinished story
Masterpiece of delight
Mischievous glory
She loves me as no other
With both pain and pleasure
Lighthearted longing
She knows who she is
Ever needing a kiss
The Song of Songs
Heartfelt bliss
Categories:
serine, for her, love, woman,
Form:
Free verse
The aroma of that aged wine
So intense and hypnotizangly fine
Among the mighty ravens there is a single dove
To enjoy the finesse of the poisoned love.
The warmth it spread basking the golden shine
The sound of the crystals shimmering serine
The waves of fire rides just above
To enjoy the finesse of the poisoned love.
The unintentional kiss of sorrow
The majestical dawn of tommorow
The heat of the moment bounded in the unbreakable cuffs
To enjoy the finesse of the poisoned love.
Categories:
serine, crazy, fantasy, i love
Form:
ABC