Best Soars Poems
Freezing in the midst of hostile ice monsoon
triggering aching woes beneath blood and bones,
I search for a quilt woven in sanguine rune
silken feathers of clementine and gold tones-
body ails, yet spirit soars, sings to the moon,
beyond clouds obscured in kohl sleets of hailstones
whilst rhapsodies of nature serve light to calm-
scattered scars in the air, like cosmic mint balm
But as skies swing heavy, and coldness seeps in,
hope breathes from sapphire dews of rain waltzing free,
for when mists of nature envelopes my skin,
I find traces of peace from roots of my tree
amidst the piercing pain pulsating within-
fields of eagle ferns, the tranquilizing key,
sets a serene scene with silver sequined lines,
sprinkling zests of zen from inner sun that shines.
Sometimes mind gets blanketed in confusion,
sinking behind steel walls sculpted in distress
although shadowed stars swirl like an illusion,
faith is the thread for thin needles to redress
and restitch fragmented frames of vague vision.
So let suppressed agony slowly digress
in pearl pages of cathartic tomorrows-
now my ink abandons yesterday's sorrows.
Written: October 28, 2023, For Unseeking Seeker Contest
_____________________________
Amid the distress and pressure of life,
A salient soul suspires to scamper strife.
Despite bodily weakness and a lingering graze,
Unwavering strength and vitality inside amaze
Breath may be beleaguered, even as the body ails.
Flog to fatten, follow, even if fiefdom fails.
It rises beyond tough times with its optimism.
In desultory days, grasp toward agnosticism.
Nature's gentle whistle splendors serenity.
In the shades of a sunset and bird melody.
The body fails, but the spirit stays hopeful.
It speaks for drive and the resolve to be careful.
It glides amid a storm fearlessly, paving the way.
Amid agony, the soul rises, grows, and stays.
Each rebirth lends the soul wings and a slope.
Despite the gloom, there's still a glint of hope.
Allow the body to suffer and the soul to soar.
Yet it is the spirit that prevails over deplore.
Rejuvenation is the answer to physical illness.
A soaring persona that can bear on grimness
Embrace depth inside; the spirit ablaze is untamed.
Let ailments prevail; rousing spirits set us unblamed.
Despite all odds, the spirit shines brightly amid sorrow.
It climbs above, decries its path, and is never hollow.
Renewal lets you start again, fix harm, and be free.
Honor the body aches as they reveal our glee.
Rebirth lifts the soul, ruining walls and letting in light.
Hardship lends life and shows God's eternal insight.
While bones and skin plunge, souls remain.
With every harm and grief, refuse to be slain.
The probe fire speaks while the body is feeble.
It lights a bright spark that leads us to a needle.
Even a sparrow soars
As its tiny soul
Climbs to great heights
Have you seen it?
Wings flat against the body
Brown bullet
Aerodynamically
Slicing through the air
Covering distances
In a twinkling
That we lumbering humans
Take minutes to travel
Surely it can reach heaven
More easily than we
December 7, 2009
Body ails, yet spirit soars to see
Mother Nature’s beauty that surrounds
us all. I feel thankful just to be
in a place where nature’s spell abounds.
Yes, a magic spell I am under -
as I view many mountains everywhere.
At trees ablaze I gaze in wonder
in the freshness of the autumn air.
Though in pain, I must show gratitude
for friends, family and the outdoors.
Positive will be my attitude.
Yes, body ails, yet spirit soars.
Tailed kite
Drifting higher
Grand sight
Thrill crowd
Gather around
Peals loud
Wind blew
Tug, pull, line breaks
Shed tear
4/15/2020
A little child and her hound
in joyful haste, cheerful sound,
wait for the man with red round
cheeks, and long white beard around
the Christmas tree. Stockings hang
along fireplace mantel; dang,
they wonder what is inside.
Startling bang sound heard outside.
Their eyes light up to the sight
with full delight at midnight.
Thrills flow at the silhouette,
hope and dream, and not forget.
Peeping just gave them a frowned,
within their close reach they found
all Christmas packages bound.
The old hound runs round and round
the Christmas tree, eager jaws
a soup bone without a pause.
Santa soars above the sky
while they wave and say goodbye.
11/22/2019
I was in the hospital at only five,
the medicine gave me a big hive.
Sunday school taught us to be alive,
my spirit soared and wanted to drive.
When I was seven I got really sick,
they gave me ice cream to lick.
I loved warm soup with a cheese breadstick,
my spirit loved it and soared with a big kick.
Now older with aches and pains yet wiser,
my spirit soars like a heavenly geyser.
Discerning knowing
ongoing boring
destitute
high-minded absolute
confined it in resolve
End bizarre I close my open eyes
to see the inside
of me as I am relieved
of my spirit my soul surrenders and I fly like a dove
toward the skies
I'm enhanced
I am no longer in a trance
not Beyond belonging to myself
I take on a second breath
not I relinquish I passed the test
I
am
solemn
3/14/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr
The morning soars with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear,
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.
The air alive with songs of praise,
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.
The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.
The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!
I thought to when my mother took my hand.
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds,
loud, and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.
I never lost my youthfulness,
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.
A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow.
Cutting and Slicing,
Through the wind my sorrow soars,
Letting it, no more.
I nailed this contest with a poem that has punctuation
for ease of read rather than confusing line implications.
I composed a free verse feeling rush that soars with
heart sentiment grounds that I tweaked until profound.
Do check out my ew-la-la imagery, subtle flippancy,
smooth flow that ideally rolls to tighter grab as it goes.
My write ignites awe to wiggly with words brilliantly
alert, not unclear bit blurts, possibly boredom fraught.
he has much wealth;
perfect health too.
with stealth, he soars
white in the sky, a dove, angelic sight
a flight through every moment of daylight
light drizzle of rain brought it to alight
safe in the site of limbs, descending right
into the calm night ; spread its wings delight
flew right to the top again at sunlight
4/26/2017
MY SPIRIT SOARS
"The wind rides in solitude, In her diaphanous delight Her skirts brush eternity, To gather the stars of night"
Music fills my soul and wakes up my senses
and I find my whole body moving to the beat,
rhythm, tempo, cadence of the music in precise,
distinguished moves, defined, delivered with feelings.
How dancing stirs me and lifts me up is beyond me.
Every move I emote is an expression of art, feeling
serenity, freedom, happiness and being in a trance
while I sway, shake gracefully, showing my authenticity.
Dressing up makes me feel free, expressing my love
of fashion and expressing my own style, individuality.
It is art to me, playing, coordinating colors, adding
accents of scarves, hair pieces, belts showing my chic way.
Travel enlightens me, brings joy, delight to my being.
It gives me knowledge, being aware of the facts and
familiar with the places I visit while enjoying my stay.
It gives me freedom of exploring and sweet memories.
How my passions carry, transport me into
another world, where I find solitude, serenity,
freedom, delight, joy or up above with the stars
and that is when my spirit soars with the wind.
5/3/21 Choose Your Form Poetry
Joseph May
Chose: Option #4
Checked: PS Grammar Checker
Great visits often reveal fresh awarenesses.
Sam Nicholson is 90 and is recovering from cancer.
His wife Mary is 78 and is recovering from heart surgery.
Their health issues are enormous and challenging, taxing
their bodies to the very limits of human survivability.
One look into their eyes reveals the will to not only live,
But to thrive and love the life that God has given them.
Their spirits soar like an eagle from earth to the highest heaven.
One leaves their presence with the belief that their faith is
rock solid, and their seat in heaven is eternally secure. May
my faith in God be as deep and firm as the faith of Sam and Mary.