Best Splendidly Poems
The sky is a gigantic bowl of pink turned upside down,
spilling soft rose petals that peeked out
from beneath snow white billowed clouds
till - fully blossomed - they burst forth.
Growing radiant at the edge of twilight,
they’ve scattered as rubescent streaks falling,
lush and luminescent, as we watch in solitude.
No parade this evening - just you and I aglow,
wishing for an eternity to be like this:
so splendidly in love. . .
in the pink.
Title and first line changed back to original
Submitted Oct. 5, 2021 (#8 word - Rosy)
for '''R'' Contest, New or Old' Contest Info
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
splendidly, love, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Intoxicate me, Autumn, I implore
you! Fall upon me amber as in times
your splendor greeted me outside my door,
enthralling me, inspiring me with rhymes.
Annoint me, Autumn, with your rays of gold,
which linger from my summer days of mirth
until the chill of wintertime takes hold.
Pour forth your brilliant colors on the earth.
Bedazzle me and bathe me in your glow
from daybreak till your hues all disappear
into the gloaming when the sun sinks low.
I feel you coming, Fall. You’re nearly here.
September peeks around the corner! Dawn
of Fall comes splendidly and summer’s gone.
Aug 22, 2018 for the "New Sonnets Only" Poetry Contest of Emile Pinet
Categories:
splendidly, autumn,
Form:
Sonnet
The center of energy resides in my heart
Wherein the seed of divinity shant ever depart
Their joy's root anchors firmly, yet lightly
In my I AM presence it shines ever brightly
The Trinity is embodied in three glorious plumes
Blue, yellow, and pink; It's grand sacred rooms
Of Power and Wisdom and Eternal Love
Father, Son, Holy Spirit; on earth and above
The Threefold Flame I humbly seek
To arrive at last to the spiritual peak
With elation I fulfill my reason to be
The Liberty Flame! My soul's eyes can now see
At long last I've completed my life's fated course
As my soul splendidly weds the One Supreme Source
Categories:
splendidly, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
A millstone around my neck and weight about my feet
drag me down so deeply
that I’m being pulled toward something. . .
something from a darkened dream - nihility -
the place to lose chagrin
and then to taste absolutely nothing.
Tropical delights do not swim here
to brighten the dingy water of my plight.
No rainbow fish dart to and fro where murky disillusionment oozes
all around and through me.
I go lower. . . .
But above me, I can barely see a tinge of rose and of blue,
a sparkling distant light as the void below crouches,
tugging at my soul.
Hope, through ocean’s skin,
peeps down at me.
Rays of reassurance come gleaming through
the layers of my gloom’s descent,
and be it from God. . . or from simple human will,
Prospect calls to me.
I feel wonder as gravity relinquishes its hold,
and the restraints around my ankles now fall off!
The millstone is released. Unencumbered, I ascend.
Up, up, up I go -
bursting to exhale and to take into my lungs
a refreshment of sweet oxygen.
A final surge of spirit . ..
and I’m breaking the surface.
The coral glow of breaking day rushes forth splendidly
to greet me.
Categories:
splendidly, allegory, hope,
Form:
Free verse
Iberia, you took my breath away
with fiery gypsy spirit and romance;
with ancient Moorish history and grace;
with everything there is of you to see;
to hear and smell; to feel inside my soul.
Diversity lives splendidly in you!
The ancient cultures beckoned me to you
when, like the Romans, lured from far away,
I came to you and gave to you my soul,
partaking of your passion and romance.
I’d read of you in school and had to see!
How glad I was to come and know your grace.
A mosque in Cordoba reveals your grace,
but I would learn there is much more of you. . .
Cathedrals dressed in gold I was to see.
From palace walls, in awe I’d walk away
to find nearby - in gypsy caves - romance
in music. . . as Flamenco filled my soul!
With passion’s beat resounding in my soul,
I toured Seville, where ladies rode with grace
on horses with their toreadors! Romance
is in the air at Spanish fairs. And you
can make it hard for one to turn away
from all the magic offered there to see.
In northern parts of you, I was to see
The Pyrenees, whose beauty touched my soul,
quaint villages with mountain goats! Away
I went southeast then, greeted by more grace.
Along your coast, I saw a side of you
I grew to love, Valencia’s romance!
And in Madrid, I found my own romance,
a handsome Spaniard. Never would I see
his face again because, in leaving you,
I left him and a small part of my soul.
So much I’d not yet seen of all your grace,
but destiny was calling me away. . .
I yearn to feel romance inside my soul;
breathe history and see again your grace.
Enchanted land, you are so far away!
May 4, 2010 Now used for Thvia Shetley's Foreign Travel Contest
Categories:
splendidly, me,
Form:
Sestina
One summer day, enraptured by the Goddess Sea,
King Sun shone down with all his might; most splendidly
he moved the Goddess, for she rippled laughingly
a shimmering reply to Sun in azure sky,
and while reflecting that same hue where King Sun dwelt,
her turquoise ripples lengthened, for the goddess felt
herself now rising up with joy. Wave after wave
was leaping, frothing. . . as King Sun more strongly gave
his final rays to her. Then he descended low
that he might kiss the lovely Sea on earth below -
to kiss her soon before the last day’s shadows fell,
and so he touched her where she’d let her body swell.
With yellow gold, his final glow, he bathed her face,
but when the night arrived with sable colored lace
to drape the goddess, Sun had vanished from all sight;
below Sea’s depth he’d sunk - to love her through the night.
For Suz's "Let's Be Open" poetry contest and now for
PD's Anything Goes Contest
Categories:
splendidly, sea, summer,
Form:
Couplet
With Shakespearean romance I can't compete
Or Virginia Woolf's lovely agony
Or the wit of Dorothy Parker or Mark Twain
The genius of Emily Dickinson, splendidly plain
I know there isn't a need for my amateur offerings
I freely admit - I do it for me
I want notice; I want my spark to be seen
When I first found this site I read a whole batch
Of poets whose prose I could never match
I was eaten up with insecure jealousy
But also found it inspiring
After twenty years of inactivity
My muse awoke to creativity
I drank in new ideas, forms, advice
My skill grew stronger, found new life
I started placing in contests - what a rush!
On comments I developed quite the crush-
Both receiving, and leaving
Encouraging and believing
I discovered true kinship and camaraderie
And the privilege of reading such artistry
Of which I am truly admiring
The recipe
For this soup of poetry
Is reciprocity.
9/15/18
Categories:
splendidly, appreciation, encouraging, inspirational, poets,
Form:
Rhyme
Speak not of glorious visions past.
The dark remorse of woe
into the nightly splendour fades,
Where now, I too must go.
Weep not the tears of duty here,
Nor utter words withheld
That may have given liberty,
And had the power to meld.
Fear is but a childish word
That fills the heart with dread,
No more will rage direct my path,
Nor turn this weary head.
The north wind blasts against my cheek
Where tears did fall, short time ago,
The salty streams have turned to ice,
Repentant floods no more will flow.
I see the dawn break splendidly,
It melts the air around,
And bends the flower’s head toward east,
In trance-like motion bound.
-YLE
Categories:
splendidly, lost love
Form:
Quatrain
Here is the poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
My Response (for the challenge of Mystic Rose)
You love me quite profoundly. That I know
From this sweet poetry I now have read.
So many things are running through my head,
Like how I might with equal measure show
My love for thee as splendidly, but oh!
I stumble with my meager words instead.
My quill runs dry; all eloquence has fled.
I call upon my muse that verse might flow.
My love for thee is beautiful and strong.
With trepidation I confess to thee
Although I never want to do thee wrong,
Can I love as well and as steadfastly?
Please bear with me; one day my words a song
Will be to echo words thou wrote for me!
Written Feb. 20, 2016
Categories:
splendidly, love,
Form:
Italian Sonnet
Violet, a lovely lady, kin to Purple, can be a contradiction.
Between her fellows Red and Blue (yet more inclined to Blue),
she lies with a calm passion! Unique and unconventional is she!
A symbol of humility, through the ages she has listened to confessions
as she draped the shoulders of Roman Catholic priests.
Yet often in society, she’s been seen as extravagant and vain!
Just for having embellished the rooms and the attire
of monarchs, emperors, and princes,
and just because Violet is flattering to the yellow found in gold,
should she then be punished for her wealth of beauty?
Should her shades with other lovely names such as
Lilac, Lavender, Amethyst, and Mauve
be seen in any other way as simply gorgeous?
Perhaps for her ambiguity as she shifts to deeper reddish hues
then back to cool blue, she is perceived in western culture
as uncertain and ambivalent, for she is not popular with the masses.
Van Gogh, however, understood her,
painting her as irises and showing her in swirls of stars!
And in the oriental world, where she is extolled,
she radiates the sublime harmony of the universe,
as the melding of the yin and yang of red and blue.
Violet, who sometimes spreads herself splendidly
across the twilight skies
and peeks out from rainbows,
is a beauty so rarely seen in nature
that the birds, stones and plants that she enchants
are not even too numerous to name.
Have you seen her purple pearl or coral in the sea?
Have you heard the song of African violet-backed starlings?
But oh! Violet loves flowers. . . Besides her small sweet namesake,
She colors crocuses, petunias, asters, geraniums and pansies.
Not many other things in nature does Violet cling to,
yet she adores the grape and plum,
and with a certain whimsy, she’s charmed purple cabbage,
the turnip, eggplant, and beets!
Rare lady in nature, Violet, my adored, why is it that you are not more loved?
As I cross a field of lavender and breathe you in, the answer to my question
eludes me.
Categories:
splendidly, color, universe, , western,
Form:
Free verse
Luna, to the depths
of my fondest delight,
You are regally dressed
this beautiful night.
Your beaming full face,
frosted splendidly bright,
Causes Venus to become
pale in your sight.
Your reflection shining down
from your lofty height
Dances on the swaying sea
in bejeweled light.
Known as the `beaver'
full moon eclipse tonight,
In awe still am l as your
shadow takes flight.
I rejoice in the return
of your graceful might.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Note:
**Why is the full moon known as the "beaver" full moon?
The U.S. Naval Observatory's Geoff Chester offers the reasoning behind the name:
"[The] name comes from Native American skylore reminding trappers to set their
final traps for the season before the beaver ponds freeze up for the winter,"
Chester writes. He also notes this moon is sometimes also referred to as the "Frosty Moon."
Categories:
splendidly, moon,
Form:
Monorhyme
You’re the word “kind” in my kindness
You make the world a much better place
You’re the answer to a yearning prayer
You create for me such an amazing grace
You’re the feeling behind my warm words
You touch my heart in hues of crimson joy
You’re wise, inspiring and filled with insight
You are more playful than the newest toy
You’re the water behind the sea’s wonders
You give hope to the most weary of hearts
You’re a answer to a prayer for sweet mercy
You enliven the sun’s beam with finest arts
You’re the one who knows how to give fully
You are a brilliant and simple faith in paradise
You’re splendidly arrayed in beautiful mysteries
You twinkle like starlight born of gentle sacrifice
You’re alive with beautiful colors, blushing aromas
You throw moondust into the wind’s caressing sigh
You’re a beacon of promise awakening serenity
You grow sage amid the dreams that come nigh
You’re the cure to those illness’ that wreck dreams
You comfort away the transgressions of the past
You’re always faithful to the spirit’s idea of peace
You reflect the happiness which comes down to last
You’re a hint of all the goodness that lives within
You assure the faint of heart that they will come through
You’re gentle, considerate and always so true to love
You give my heart feelings that hold it together like glue
You’re encouraging, generous and filled with affection
You make this life a better place to live, give and feel
You’re a moment that comes around to ensure success
You know that love from above will fate surely seal
Categories:
splendidly, beautiful, blessing, faith, heaven,
Form:
Rhyme
The last leaf
Clinging to hopes of times past
Summers warm breezes
Humid days and cool nights
Summer time recollections
Rain or shine
The last leaf
Living on borrowed time
The tree is barren
The autumn wars have ended
The winds of winter have won the battle
All the leaves have fallen
Dead to the ground
Except for one soul left
Standing guard alone and proud
Sadness haunts his lonely soul
This leaf has no where else to go
He knows destiny is in the ground
He valiantly holds to branches bare
Clinging on to his despair
Living on borrowed time
White winds of winters death
Slowly slaughter all that’s left
The lonely leaf can cling no more
Falling so softly along a rivers shore
Where a single white rose splendidly sits
Knowing soon its grave will be
A winter’s snow drift
The leaf falls upon the rose
Entwined in natures dance of death
They each shall kiss each others skin
They hold hands bracing for winters winds
They die together, both in irony
So old and alone, they died in harmony
Categories:
splendidly, autumn, beauty, nature,
Form:
Light Verse
An angel, he appeared one afternoon -
amazing, amorous, and alluring.
Beguiling her with beautiful ballads,
how splendidly he bewitched her!
Long languorous summer days they lazed
in a field of daffodils
as she lay blissfully in his brawny bronzed arms
looking lovingly into his eyes -
those baby blues with long lush lashes.
Seventeen were they. Their first love it was -
a lovely flirtatious and fabulous first love.
Suddenly, it all just stopped.
Sent away to serve in war,
her sweetheart sadly disappeared with barely a Sayonara.
Several seasons swept away
like brown leaves in September’s breezes.
Studying at school, sometimes she recalled
with longing - the love of her young life
and the boyish glee in his bright blue long-lashed eyes.
Unbeknownst to her, her lost boyfriend
was back from his lonesome barracks
and the bloody battlefields of an awful World War.
Back was he, though limping from a bullet to his leg
and looking for the love of HIS young life.
Seventy-seven years later,
see them sauntering together
in a field of daffodils
situated by a house he built for her -
two lone centenarians
with grown twin sons and seven grand-kids.
Their lasting love was lost but only for a blink
of their long lifetime -
a lifetime of lovely marital bliss
that envelopes them still with bountiful blessings.
March 31, 2022
for My Lost And Found Love Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
Categories:
splendidly, love,
Form:
Alliteration
"THE PRAISE OF ROSES.
If Zeus had willed it so/ That o’er the flowers one flower should reign a queen,
I know, ah well I know/The rose, the rose, that royal flower had been!"
-John Addington Symonds (inspired by Sappho's "Song of the Rose")
Poised on the precipice of springtime
are ornamental trees and flowers soon to bloom.
But it is with the utmost anticipation
that I await the blossoming
of my precious roses
which unfold themselves so beautifully to the sky.
I will exit my house one day
and there she will be in front of my porch -
my first dewy-faced darling of the season.
Most often she appears as a ruby red.
But sometimes it’s the blue rose
that first presents herself.
Like a queen is the lavender-hued rose named Blue,
for she sits high above all the bushes surrounding her
wearing warm May’s sunshine as her crown.
Her humble subject, I cannot help but admire her
each time I arrive home, pulling up onto my driveway.
How I hate to see my fair queen
f a d e a w a y
But happily her delicate, pretty sisters come along -
more and more and more of them crowding in
to take her place among the bushes, offering their nectar
to the worshipping bees and occasional hummingbird.
What pleasure I derive in catching sight
of that perky hummingbird!
From spring – through summer -
and even toward the end of chilly fall – they reign,
coming one right after the other in regal fashion.
How splendidly my roses do beguile me.
Will they come early this year?
And which will be the first one this time
to take the throne -
the royal Ruby Red or the towering sovereign Blue?
Only time will tell!
March 13, 2021
For the Flower Or Flowers In Imagism Form - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
splendidly, flower,
Form:
Imagism