Best Spread Out Poems
~Moon & Sea~
Hey, boy won't you open that door?
Let's sing and walk by the shore
Come and spread out your eyes
Block looking for reasons, and ways?
The cosmos are more than a space to explore
Don't hide when I need.... Plus more.
Finish playing a master in disguise!
Let's find the perfect sunrise, sunset surprise.
Put your arms around me
Allow your moon to reflect off my sea
Too much time has passed you by
Come outside with and view the horizon up high
I've got my eyes set upon you
There's no need to feel blue
Hey, boy comes, climb up this tree!
I'm going to show you all the things you can't touch, you can't see.
Let's fit the luxury and beauty of this world into our play.
Don't say them words that will set me free to walk away.
Take this kiss and see how it feel deep within your heart.
Close your eyes in my garden, and draw with the fragrance of art
I want to take you into that space, astronomy love.
Making it easy to float with the clouds way up above.
Glide away from the blame of gravity and self-destruct.
A bounce of the dust of hurt when you fall and get cut.
Boy, let's hold in this perfect air together.
Leave the cold end of someone else's weather.
Follow me beyond the distance of chemistry.
I will expose your moon and explain the physics of my sea.
Give it another chance and you will see!
Your moon, is skin deep, needing water from me.
Turn on the tune in your heart, and listen to me.
In every sunrise, the moon entwines with the sea.
There’s an old river course with beginning and end,
now the river runs straight without this river bend,
where the water is still and the reeds do grow strong.
New life has taken over in a billabong.
The mat rush is spreading replacing the sedge,
and old fallen gum trees lean in from the edge
creating a haven in the shelter below
for smelt or gudgeon, and the common minnow.
There’s a ring on the water, so danger is nigh,
and life is now over for one caddis fly.
Dragonflies hover on their predator flight,
so mosquito and midges best keep out of sight.
There is many a song around a billabong
to break up the still with an assembly throng
from birds of the forest, and wading birds too,
so the billabong offer is there to pursue...
... for blue heron and egret, coot and the teal,
and for the banded rail that the bulrush conceal.
In the billabong shadowed by gum and ti-tree,
bellbirds are tinkling; wattlebirds disagree.
An oft-diving grebe keeps on searching for food
for the striped downy chicks of its latest brood,
and a hunting kingfisher waits keen for its prey
from a twig of a gum tree it frequents all day.
There is many a scent around a billabong,
filling the air with the perfume quite strong,
from black wattle and mint bush, or mistletoe
cascading from gum trees where only they grow.
Painted lady butterfly flit upon flowers,
and blue banded bees keep on working for hours
on lilies and orchids, heath, sweet appleberry
and clusters of flowers on a native cherry.
Ribbon weed, nardoo spread out in the shallow,
with buttercup, duckweed; an introduced mallow,
struggling for survival near the water line,
aiding coral pea that does lightly entwine.
The banks of a billabong are dangerous too
with predator snakes not so often in view,
but they are aware, that the growling grass frog
will climb from the water onto an old log.
But tigers and copperhead, red-bellied black
often lay in the sun on an overgrown track,
where the wombat or wallaby travel along
to graze on native grasses near the billabong.
So life still carries on around the billabong
where water looks stagnant, a bond is still strong
with a river now rushing it’s way to the sea,
past the billabong living, where the course used to be.
Silent journey
I ride with you O Mother Earth
On the wings of time and space
I feel you cradle me in your arms
Lifting me high above you
To feel the kiss of your wind
..... and the warmth of your sun
A flicker of light and I am
Surfing the tips of your waves
Salty mist fills my nose
My eyelashes sticky with moisture
My heart wide open
Oh joy !
To glide up and down
On your surging tide
To undulate with the motion
Of your sea
To feel the movement of the
Magical water beings below me
Sunlight follows me
Illuminating the foam before me
Twinkling glitter radiating
Centuries of adventure and passion
Lust and loss spread out before me
Ancient battles
Sunken ships
Lost treasures and dreams lay
Below me in the darkened depths
Remembering your light within my heart
A child of eight
Knowing you Mother Earth
Digging in your soil
Smelling the damp dirt
Grasping handfuls
Unearthing small treasures of
Colored glass and painted pottery
Glancing upwards towards the sky
Filled with puffy white cloud dreams
Knowing your spirit and soul
Feeling you entwined with me
In the heavens and stars
Finding you in unexpected ways
Climbing the highest trees
Grasping at thick branches
Hoisting myself up
Beams of light piercing through
Shadows beckoning me higher
My t-shirt soaked with
excited sweat and purpose
Flying my dime-store kite
Out of my bedroom window
Wind taking it up so far
Up.... up...up
Appearing as a migratory bird
Making its way home
Dissolving into a small speck
Until I could see it no more
Painful grooves biting into my fingers
Cutting her loose
She’s free to fly home now
Transcending time
A silent whisper
Imperceptible movement
Pushing upward
Through fertile earth
I slowly unfurl my cloak of greenery
Stretching out my arms
Raising my head upward
I see the beauty of my form
A new seedling with furry lime tendrils
A baby plant on the carpet of the forest
Glancing upward I see my self surrounded
Sacred towering redwood giants gaze down upon me
As sunlight music tickles my soul
Susan Lawrence
Copyright 2021
Once there was a little cabin in the forest
where lived a most incredible hermit
all animals birds and creatures flocked
to him, surrounding him with their trust.
He lived a simple life dedicated to helping
those in need. Each day found him looking
out the wounded healing them with herbs
he gathered then making them into potions.
His cabin was just one room, a bed and table
with perches for injured birds, straw scattered
on floor for the various critters seeking help
none were turned away all that could be healed.
One day his door remained shut, the hermit
was ill, a stag managed to open his door
finding him in bed racked by a fever and cough
all day animals and birds helped bringing berries
A squirrel bathed his fevered brow and piled up straw
many animals cuddled up to help keep him warm
slowly but surely he started to improve to all's delight
He looked around at the worried faces of them all.
His strength returned thanks to the creatures help
and he collected hay, nuts, corn, berries for them
and spread out a banquet that was fit for a king
they all ate and made merry dancing in the clearing
We will now leave him and friends in the forest's peace
with butterflies and bees to keep this kindly hermit company
The words we use become pictures into lives
Pictures from words spread out for all to see
This is what becomes of our poetry
Has the makings of a montage to me
With words we complete many pictures
Pictures then arranged to fit in closeness
And so with our poetry I do believe
We create a montage for all to see
Their covenant wings
Like cherubim on alters
Spread out for preying
After the ashes are scattered from my urn
If the Lord should give me a chance to return
There is no doubt which animal I’d be
An eagle perched in the nest of an oak tree
National emblem of the land of the free
No predator would dare pose a threat to me
My eggs would be safe till the hatchlings were born
And with pride my white, feathered cap would be worn
Freely I’d soar above fields of golden grain
Circling o’er waterfalls of snow’s melting rain
Like a statue, I’d pose as my national emblem
And fiercely I’d fight to defend our brethren
From my aerial view, I’d always protect
This treasure, our nation, with deepest respect
With wings spread out, I’d keep guard nationwide
God as my mentor, Holy Spirit my guide
Harvey Denning
1909 – 1923
“I saw the universe a thousand times.”
I saw the face of God
Spread out across the sky
Like a million cities on fire.
Like Troy cut into little pieces
By the slashing sword of Achilles.
Cut to shreds and bleeding.
There on the ramparts
There inside the fissures and crevices
Of ten thousand unknown dreams.
I read the stories of Homer
And the tales of a thousand and one Arabian nights.
And I read the solemnly immortal words
Of Longfellow, Poe and Defoe.
And I decided inside my mind long before I died
To perhaps write the greatest story ever told.
But I fell from my tree house
There on Dorland Street
There in the cool shadows of the walnut tree.
What would have been my story I wonder.
What visions would I have conjured
For all to read and envision?
My friend, will you write my story now?
Will you take pen in hand and possess my voice?
Will you find the noble courage to speak for me?
This forgotten dead soul
Buried here in the dark dust of Clark Cemetery?
If you kindly consent,
Please begin it with these words:
“I saw the universe a thousand times.”
Numberless now ...
Many, the years since then
When I uncurled my toes and reached thru soil
Pushed up and spread out
While beneath me the richness of the earth nourished
Spreading tendrils through the dark and damp
To give me strength and secure purchase
Ring-by-ring my girth increased
Branches spreading ... reaching for the air
Capturing the weep of heaven
And bounding toward the warm of the sun
Water surging like blood
Chlorophyll coloring my bloom and breadth
Carbon dioxide like the breath of life
Deep in ... oxygen out
Little ones doing their work during the green time
And their bright, crisp, beautiful deaths
Autumn's blanket, their last deed
Countless, those cycles ...
Yet ... I stood strong over HER
Sheltered her from rain, child-to-woman
Shaded her quiet time in the summer swelter
Covered her loves in the autumn chill
Let her swing in my boughs, up to the sky and back
It was my pride to care for her these years
To offer my strength and cover
And mostly, to hear her sing to the meadow.
Yet now she swings again in my boughs
Dangles amidst my strong arms
Lifeless ... on a rope.
Oh, if only I were a willow
For then I, too ...
Could weep.
Written on January 7, 2020
N/A'd on June 13, 2020 in the the "I Am A Tree" Poetry Contest
Submitted on June 16, 2020
To the "N-A Re-Run 8" Poetry Contest
John Hamilton, Sponsor.
As steadfast as the sea
Pounding its symphony
Making love to the shore
Always reaching for more
My love endures
As stars that grace the sky
Sung in sweet lullaby
Firmament jewelry
Bequeathed to you and me
My love endures
As mountains that remain
Which mysteries contain
That stand the test of time
God’s sentinels sublime
My love endures
As searing as the sun
Placed to rule everyone
Who daily journey makes
With warmth that nature wakes
My love endures
My love endures
Through all changing seasons
Through all unknown reasons
Through all the storms and strife
Through all that threatens life
Through portals of the grave
Through the gates of the saved
MY love ENDURES
Eileen Manassian
PS…this is a romantic love poem, but it is an echo of Psalm 136 which is a testament to the greatest love one can ever experience….the love of the Almighty!
Psalm 136
1 Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good.
His love endures forever.
2 Give thanks to the God of gods.
His love endures forever.
3 Give thanks to the Lord of lords:
His love endures forever
to him who alone does great wonders,
His love endures forever.
5 who by his understanding made the heavens,
His love endures forever.
6 who spread out the earth upon the waters,
His love endures forever.
7 who made the great lights—
His love endures forever.
8 the sun to govern the day,
His love endures forever.
9 the moon and stars to govern the night;
His love endures forever
In the dim light seen
The trees show a theme
A tree of a human
With a high forehead
With a long nose
Fingertips to his lip
Saying be quiet
I'm trying to sleep
Raindrops on the windowpane
Many raindrops spread out
From the window to the ground
Raindrops from the sky
This is seen from the lamp post
Raindrops from the sky
Shining in the dim light
In the evening night
Written, September 13, 2024
For the I Form - Imagism Poetry Contest
Sponsor, Constance La France
Quote: Childhood is the most beautiful of all life's seasons." By Poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sight of the emerald lawn is exquisite_
lavender and azure threads intertwine,
elegantly placed in lines of budding leaves,
and young kids play and race with endless zest,
their upholstery is spread out in the yard.
And boxes laden with meals that Mama stuffed,
between biscuits, milk, cheese, jelly, and loaf,
Sunday outdoor activities are unforgettable.
It started high up in the clouds,
the moisture balling together until
it became a perfect tear drop hovering
then falling down, gaining speed.
Bumping into others amalgamating,
spinning dropping ever downwards.
Landing with large splash on a leaf
and trickling, running ever down.
Joining still as it flows on
over the edge to the ground.
The rain drop fell into a puddle
and spread out reflecting the sky.
Glistening, sparkling and pulsing
It follows the contours of the land
giving life to all as it passes by,
relentlessly advancing with glee.
Not over yet, it flowed into a lake
now a vast body of water it continues
onwards, ever onwards. One day it
will return to the sky. That's another story.
THE ASTRONAUT = John Glenn
As certain as I see the world below
some things I'd overlooked, within my haste
come to my mind, and in it now, I know
we can't allow what time remains to waste.
What God's become, because we've let it be,
would change if only you'd see what I do,
spread out below, right here in front of me
a fragile sight--most delicate a view.
To see the whole thing, as it is complete,
the total world, big pictures only show,
is recognizing what's beneath our feet
was made by one who knows more than we know.
My question's not to ponder as to how
God made the world--but how to save it now.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
At the stump of the fig tree
where sweetness and fragrance
have long departed
a rain spider has built a nest
of autumn-dried leaves
covered with a blanket
of delicate silk.
I stand and watch
the little spiders
coming out to play
in smooth fur jackets -
first, a game of tag
and then a fencing game
with slender long legs.
Soon they will spread out
and scurry around in the hunt for food;
raising neck hairs and bring shrieks of terror
as they intimidate nervous children and wives.