Best Softness Poems
She was beauty, softness and she was grace.
She was loves maintained, ever giving face.
She was forgiveness in gesture soothing pace.
She trimmed my self-worth with maternal lace.
She was my one dependable home place.
Forever, I will gratefully bear her trace.
Since her late fifties, she has shown much change.
No longer is joy or logic found in her campaign.
She clutches bitterness to allow its reign,
as though bitter be her only lifetime gain.
She seems to fist, produce and seed blame.
She taints the past with cruel words that stain.
How I miss and desire the woman I knew!
She guided me as I grew and after, too.
I long for the laughter that would ensue
whenever we gathered alone, just we two.
I cry for the woman I always turned to
whenever I was joyous, confused or blue.
She is my beloved Mother, and she is not.
My best attempts fail as her remedy sought.
I break in dark pieces seeing her so caught
in the bitter web of resentment’s sick plot.
I know not if karma fated her this distraught
or what spirit truth might loosen her knots.
softer then cotton
warm as a hot cup of tea
cat purrs beside me
A woman's touch, her feel, comforts like that of a down pillow
As I rest my head upon the smoothness of her soft body, I deep dream
By her scent, and by her warm breath upon my neck, I awaken
There was a glorious softness surrounding the pretty May day.
Animals felt it in the meadow, but could not explain it for it was unusual.
A fantastic pink sky possibly set the mood or maybe it was the violets.
Sprinkled across the verdant grasses, they peeked at the warm sun.
The sun smiled, understanding the uniqueness of the season.
Feeling welcome and cherished by the furry scampering creatures.
A poet sat watching, his pen in his hand, too mesmerized to begin.
A squirrel ran past, flashing her tail with a knowing sassiness.
Summer was waiting, but for now, May was more than enough.
He deserves such softness.
Bony hips bruised on the corners of card tables and rough edges
Three different lifetimes worn through his young skin.
Skin bruised beyond its years and demanded tougher every day.
He shall be anointed with the softness of my palms and fingertips
May my lips show him his hunger and thirst is all that matters
The folds and curved edges in my mirror were overfilled in my mind
But it is not my mind that needs cushioning
It is his.
I will be his softness. Whether to lay a tired head upon, or to devour hungrily.
Like a peach, my skin, too, breaks easily, and he may tear into my sweet flesh
But for once, I can see him nourishing himself
And I can be his softness.
A stranger lifted me up today
While I was lost in my own self-centered universe,
Silently crying about nobody else reading, commenting or caring
About anything I’ve said,
Considering myself poetically dead.
I’ve been more concerned with the encroaching materialistic
Responsibilities, requirements and concerns of living
Instead of turning my attentions outward towards others
And lifting myself out of this whirl pool of self-pity
Into the ocean of giving.
When to my wondrous delight dark turned to light
As out of seemingly nowhere a fellow poet spoke gently and composed:
“Your poetry is like the softness of a country rose.”
And while I know not where she lives and breathes
This furtherance of feeling was shared with me:
“I too am blue as sky is gray and nothing more will do today
Except ethereal connections are how we poets play.”
I was more than moved, to say the least
How this gypsy out of cyber space
Renewed my poetic vow:
To speak the truth simple, plain and clear
As I know how.
And how
My words and hers connected
Through the vacuum of space and time
Is a story for another day and rhyme.
Until then, I stand transformed
By those few words she engendered –
And would give anything to tell her
How sweet and kind her words were rendered.
under your softness
my blooming magnolia~~
rain is imminent
© kash poet
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Placement: 5th; (Nov.2012)
Contest: Natural Sekcy Haiku
Sponsor:SandyIvyy
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there's a softness in your eyes
a gentle knowing
of my inner world
which is your universe
there is tenderness in your caress
a healing balm
for the roughness of my soul
which is the fabric of your life
There is a longing in your sigh
a calm reassurance
that my body provides
all you need to stay alive
there is sweetness to your kiss
a gift of taste to erase
all the bitterness in me
which is your sacred offering
there is a passion in your heart
that plays out in your body
as it entwines with mine
making our moments divine
Yes, there is all this and more
embodied in your smile
an ecapsulation of perfect love
which is the core
of my existence
Eileen Manassian
Wool keeps people living in cold places warm,
it is a textile sought in very extreme weather;
when a hoard of sheep is clustered closely together,
I see a field of cotton flowers lightly waving under
the chilliest wind that makes other cattle shiver
and flee the plains fearing an imminent storm.
A sheep is a gentle animal symbolizing peace,
even King David dressed in wool in his palace...
it felt nice on his skin, inducing deep sleep.
Think of the stunned shepherds tending sheep...
when the silent and twinkling skies of Bethlehem
were crossed by a luminous star never seen by them;
it glided towards a vacant manger where Jesus slept
on soft wool, giving Him the comfort that hay couldn't.
I like to wear wool shirts that trap air in rigid winters and cool
me off in sizzling summers and all this comes from a big spool;
give thanks to the kind sheep for their gift to Mankind,
admire these beautiful creatures with a look very mild.
I hear a softness in your words.
They may be only written, but they speak to me in your voice.
Gentle, like the whispering of snowflakes to the ground as they lovingly alight upon it.
It's hard to ignore the possibilities of your meaning as they arise and tickle my eager neurons.
I'm unsure whether to believe their suggestions whilst they slip down my spinal cord to appeal to my heart.
It's difficult not to let them lift me into a fantasy world with their warm, inspiring influence on my soul.
I do not need them to be true, my life is lit brightly enough just by my knowing you.
And I fear this may all fall to pieces if they were..
But a part of me, a big part, wants them to be..
That part has no fear, knows only love.
Innocent and immense.
An intensity beyond mere emotion.
A great movement of spirit.
Untamed, and untameable.
Wild, like the Universe itself.
If those possibilities are true, could we just be friends in love?
I wish I knew how to say all this to you for real,
without the fear of hurting our rapport..
More than anything I just want to know what to do with my hypermelodious heart..
camping out on the softness of your stump
i make a campfire in the quiet darkness
i hear the whisper of the wind in the catch of your breath
the ice cream i begin to lick melts into the very dwelling place of your heart
the flavor that emits from this extraordinary of places transcends normalcy like certain versions of chocolate
it makes camping out a plethora of wonder neverending
A soft sound is gentle as falling snow
that rests for a moment in a tall pine
as whispers of breeze urge it on below
to begin a softly sculpted design
A summer dusk with lavender shadows
that soften and gentle a stone pathway
or, tall grass and flowers in the meadows
softly nodding in breeze at end of day
Soft music filling the air soothing souls
As day offers her brightest charms to night
and stars softly appear, fulfilling roles
of lighting the skies along with moonlight
Softly spoken words can cool anger's heat
and cause mellower thoughts to now appear
soft is baby's skin, smelling fresh and sweet
Soft is holding a lonely person near.
Softness Of Romance
The softness of
A romantic place
Quiet glassy water
Ignites with grace
Moist sand between
our toes, arouses
Blooming jasmine lingers
upon our earthy houses
Gentle rolls of water stir
A love affair complete
Tender swirls of moisture
Caressing our two feet
Sights and sounds of twilight
Engulf us with passion
Multiplying emotions with
A second set of rations
The lingering afterglow of
A perfect day together
Heightened by the visuals
Found within the weather
Stimulating environments create
Unforgettable components
Provisions for a memory of
Diamond studded moments
Carole Cookie Arnold
2011
A New Sun
Shining through leaves...
a golden canopy of Light...
and the calling-after voice
of an insistent mother, rises, instructs,
and dies away
and all of it: the breeze, the whispers, the passing occasional car, the children's laughter
floods into a montage of sound
that fills... everything!
and I am one man, and everywhere
and I am made, healed, shown
how it was supposed to be...
and... are you here, my Love?
in the trees
(will I see you peeking out from behind one)
in the winds
(your voice as soft as the stars' voices)
in the leaves
(a thousand reflections of a thousand perfect fragments of your face)
I think you must be...
for I am at home among the colors,
and there are children here
Rainy nights have hidden
the friendly moon that visited my flowery window;
that was two seasons ago...
when I told her big secrets and didn't conceal pain.
The red-eyed owls watched me strangely and pitied my loneliness;
was I insane for staying up so late?
But sleep was like tasting real death...
I asked myself the same question, " Why dream until daybreak? "
The softness of the resplendent moonlight
must return on the same hour, and paint this sad face with silver moonbeams;
only then my dark night will turn bright...
to relive those summer's nights again and give life to another dream that gleams.