Best Sprightly Poems
When fields gleam aureate and song birds sing
and transient stars in clusters scintillate,
when sweet perennials are coaxed by spring
to blossom forth, he comes with sprightly gait.
He wends his way along the mountain trails
past opalescent rush of streams and rills,
goat-footed, on the paths that ribbon dales
and wind around and up and down small hills.
Then nymphs appear as, through the woods, he trips
to flower-smitten meadows. Fancy-free,
he leads them with his reed held to his lips,
till blithely they embrace his rhapsody.
So hear the music; watch the wood nymphs spin. . .
Then captured by sheer merriment, join in!
For Nathan A.'s ANY POEM GOES Poetry Contest
Categories:
sprightly, music, nature,
Form:
Sonnet
"Marionette of Flesh in a Borrowed Dress"
- Daniel Henry Rodgers
The hourglass,
a skeletal jester
mocks in the tomb's chill
Each falling grain an emaciated sigh,
"Soon you'll cease to be."
The mirror's cold reflection,
a Gorgon's ghastly guise
A marionette of flesh with vacant...
hollow...
colorless eyes.
The worms, like pallid mourners
watch me shrink
A marionette of organs,
cold and pale, pink.
This flesh, a borrowed dress
once sprightly
Now stained and thin
Holds tight the secrets only
death can win.
This borrowed dress,
a shroud where my story's writ
In laughter's faded stitch
and tear's accusing slit.
A map of life etched deep
with scars that mar the grain.
A raven of fleeting triumphs
a pendulum of ceaseless pain.
In the shadowed hollows
where sorrow resides
I languish.
marionettes of fate's cruel designs!
Each scratch and cut a lament.
each tear a bitter sea!
Bound by the chains of my...
limited mortality.
In this borrowed dress,
I mourn what could have been...
Lost in the convulsion of my own... sin.
I am transformed
but not redeemed.
I am drifting into the void
My spirits are shattered
and my dreams destroyed.
So in the silence of eternity
I find my rest
Lost in this body of my own...
detest.
And though this shell
a chrysalis
soon withers
and decays
I cast aside the shroud
no longer bound or worn.
Accept the endless night,
where a new self-forlorn is bourne.
Transformed
a residual relic
through the void
I fly
Suture with stardust catgut,
a worn scroll in the sky.
Categories:
sprightly, death, loneliness, mental illness,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
From far a cool wind gently blows,
There's a pleasantness in the air.
Harsh summer heat steadily slows.
The leaves of trees, new colours wear.
Autumn has come in time to cheer
From far a cool wind gently blows
The season brings everything dear
Stock in squirrel’s granary grows
Leaves fall ending their sprightly shows.
Some go fluttering in the air
From far a cool wind gently blows
Some trees are going starkly bare
Flowers begin to fade and die,
As the season’s about to close
Many birds in flock southward fly.
From far a cool wind gently blows
Categories:
sprightly, autumn, creation, leaving,
Form:
Quatern
It is the fragrant peel of Florida's fruit that comes in convenient slices.
The savory citrus that packs a punch - to my tongue it simply entices.
It is the sprightly stripe of a clown fish that says, "Look at me," unabashedly (no joke)
To read between the lines it has taught me, and in its splendor I am soaked.
It is the warmth inside a fire though his sister crimson gets all the credit.
It could be the light of your world if your vivacious heart would only let it
envelop you with its curious tone: the love of a rose - the brightness of the sun.
And though we might only think of traffic cones,
and hazard signs - for me - it is the lightness of a pun:
Orange you gonna ask me a question?
About how its wavering pathways on tropical seas
can bring the heaviest heart to ascension?
Or how its marriage of sweet strawberry and sour lemon
has brought to mind our engaging entanglement?
It isn't like the blue that's over our heads,
nor is it like the green that's beneath our feet.
Rather it is the hidden spark inside our hearts:
it isn't showy - but its beauty is discrete. Something to soothe
any gloomy day with gentle subtlety. To tell you the truth
orange is nothing dramatic
(perhaps that's why I like it)
Written March 4th, 2016
For the United Orange Contest hosted by Silent One
Categories:
sprightly, appreciation, beauty, image, introspection,
Form:
Ode
I watched them across the water prance,
Back and forth in sprightly dance.
Liveried in emerald green, others had a sapphire sheen.
It was natural choreography, by tiny acrobats
As they hovered through the reed beds, hunting bugs and gnats.
A mastery of flight, a ballet in the sky,
How mesmerising to sit and watch, dancing dragonflies.
Categories:
sprightly, insect, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
A silky-spun weave captures my attention
with its soft circular radiance
reflecting rainbows;
its fixed yet floating form
plays in sways of dappled sun,
appearing, then disappearing
as it is caught and released
by lighthearted fingers of light..
filigree beauty of the vacant web
captures my smile.
Amidst the ample weave
and supple spill of trellis green,
fruitful with a passion-palette
of June's nectar trumpets -
sprightly iridescence with a lusty hum
zips then hovers then zips again -
vying to capture my attention
with its flashy
flash...
nectar of my spirit healed with joy
my smile lasts an eternity.
Categories:
sprightly, appreciation, beauty, bird, garden,
Form:
Free verse
"I wandered lonely as a cloud"--- By William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a tramp,
Far, far away from all human habitats
Away from all prying eyes
Following the bent
Of my vagrant inclination;
Into Nature’s sylvan pockets
To places studded with trees
To the tranquil bosom of the woods
Onto the heights of bald headed hills
Where shrubs struggle to strike root
From the cleft of rocks and ledges
Where in hollows, wild bushes grow in clusters
To watch the shreds of hovering mist
To gaze upon piles of sailing clouds
To shout loud and whistle long
And to listen to the hills
Mimicking my own sound
There I will hop and jump,
Like a sprightly forest fawn,
As I don’t fear
Either the silently gliding streams,
Or the clump of swaying trees,
The host of wild flowers,
Or the monstrous mossy rocks,
Either the birds or the beasts
Never will they watch my cranky pranks
And call me a loony
As here my own men might do!
September 19, 2022
Written for the contest, I Wandered Lonely As _ Challenge
Sponsor, Natasha L Scragg
Judged on 9/24/2022
Categories:
sprightly, happiness, journey, lonely, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Our love is lofty and infinite as the sky
On love’s filmy wings we soar ever high
It has the might of a towering mountain
And the upward thrust of a sprightly fountain
Our love soars like swift birds in flight
With the boon of newer vistas in sight
It is like the sweet lays of a song
All through life, its rhythmic notes do ring
Our love renews itself like the rising sun
Each day in golden flame, it does burn
It is like the life sustaining breath
That shall keep us alive until our death
Our love, we hope to keep it aflame
As a living monument in Time
Even after the sun of our life sets
In heaven we shall sing love’s duets
Placed First
Strand's (1072) poetry Contest
Categories:
sprightly, blessing, celebration, love,
Form:
Quatrain
In the lull of twilight
sunburnt skies
tell of the Sun’s demise
below the unified realm of distant shaded shapes -
and the sprightly sea breeze dies
as night slays the day
Susan Ashley
June 20, 2019
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Your Choice (11) Imagist Style, Any Form, Theme
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
sprightly, beauty, day, image, nature,
Form:
Imagism
A cacophony of cats in my life.
Not one or two, but fifteen!
Each,who along with joy,
brought sadness and strife!
All shapes and sizes with grand
and most loving personalities.
The Maine Koone was the smallest
of all.
Maxine was pedigreed and came
home as a present for my daughter
as a surprise, one fall.
My oldest cat,Luvey,lived to be
a sprightly twenty years old!
A tortoiseshell petite cat,fun and
a loving, furry,cloud to hold.
Kelly came next, a handsome red tabby.
A happy, mellow fellow who pranced
with such grace!
He really was happy and snazzy.
Lucey came later, a Ragdoll prize of a cat,
about to be put down!
I fought and won to stop her date with an
imminent death showdown!
I have 15 wooden boxes that have their
cremains..
Each box carved, beloved,and my
housecoat with lost cat tear stains.
I fed them fluids by IV,medications food,
on a special stand.
And countless nights in emergency vet
rooms, wringing my hopeless hands.
My last cat, Luvey lost her ability to see
and walk.
I placed her in a wheelchair and moved
her about.
For I am not one when faced with a challenge,
to balk!
I can't list all their names of how
fun and charming they were.
Just know, that I think of myself as a cat..
Minus the fur!
.........................................
* I do know how to spell the correct name of the
word after breed. It comes out as Maine ****.
Sorry I was unable to use the correct spelling.
She was a regal cat, deserving of her correct
breed name and feline heritage.
October 7,2019
9:30am PST
Animal: cat
A Rhyme About Your Favorite Pet
Regina Riddle
Categories:
sprightly, cat, love, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
An oak tree stood beside a narrow stream
All bent and twisted like an agéd man
So gently flowed the stream through ancient roots
While laughing with the innocence of youth
In summertime the children came to play
Within the cooling water of the stream
Or rest beneath the gnarled oak tree's limbs
Spread, father-like, to shade them from the sun
In autumntime, when gusts and breezes blow
The leaves would float like dancers through the air
First here, then there, they softly tripped, until
They lit at last to grace the frozen ground
In wintertime, the sprightly youths would skate
Along the crystal surface of the stream
Above, the windswept branches firmly stood
Like blacksmiths' limbs are hardened from the forge
In springtime burst the oak leaves forth anew
As kingly robes they grace the ancient tree
Inside its keep the squirrels and thrushes chirp
Secure from danger's threat and free from care
Time sped, its unrelenting chimes yet tolled
The youths that loved its shade have passed away
Yet still he laughs and seems to mock at time
He stands as stout and tall as ages past
But time, its current flows at even pace
And now the oak is bent with cruel decay
Though doubled at the back like aging man
He stands there yet, a monument of strength
~ Written for "Personification" Contest. Second Place.
Categories:
sprightly, nature, seasons, tree, water,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Once upon a midnight, ghostly,
Partied many, dead ones mostly.
Feasting in the graveyard, sprightly,
White eyed werewolves gorged, engrossedly.
In the bone yard, drab and squalid,
Apparitions (staring stolid
Neath the veiled moon, clouded lightly)
Sought fresh bodies, lean but solid.
Fiendish eyes shone, light and sparkly,
Ghouls and demons danced so darkly.
Maggots munching mush unsightly,
Black blood streamed like ink, quite starkly.
Fetid flesh oozed, flowing freely
Through the crypt doors, cold and steely.
Shadows, ashen, pranced contritely,
Ebon serpents slithered eely.
As it happens, all too often,
Zombies dimly closed the coffin –
Ra, the sun god, rising slightly
Hunger pangs were soon to soften.
If you ask, I’ll tell you blankly,
When you’re feeling dark and dankly
Come to where this happens nightly.
They’ll enjoy the feast, quite frankly...
Categories:
sprightly, fantasy, horror,
Form:
Rubaiyat
My Spring will be sunny - all plans ahead,
and Summer quite sprightly... plans won't sink like lead,
No rain here, or thunder - why, tickle my toes,
why people want rainy, the Lord only knows.
Autumn will be fog-bound... I'm joking my friend.
I live in a country where fog won't itself lend.
It will be joyous and sunny like spring in the South,
and my plans won't go haywire like a kick in the mouth.
Winters I love here, and my plans will go well.
What my plans are for the moment? Can't tell,
but they will be sunny like all my plans are,
and if you're good, Mr. Viv, we'll meet up in a bar.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
1/16/2018
Contest - Weather Forecast 2018
Sponsor - Viv Wigley
2nd place win
Categories:
sprightly, how i feel, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
They say if you don’t use a thing for a year
It’s time to get rid of it, just to be clear
Feel free to sell it or give it away
But to get clutter free, just don’t let it stay
So, I checked my garage for stuff I could lose--
and found hundreds of words I simply don’t use!
Lilliputian and Sprightly stood on a shelf
Elbow-to-elbow with some wry little elf
Bucolic and Bumpkin were squirreled away
Beneath a big bale of bright yellow hay
Garish and Gaudy were in a glittery box
with Trinkets and Baubles set with fake rocks
Surreptitious and Unobtrusive tried to avoid being seen
But I caught 'em sneaking off with Clandestine
Beyond these loose words, which filled many a bin
Lay whole turns of phrase like Much to My Chagrin
I held up to the light a Gossamer Veil
Then dumped it in a Perfidious Betrayal
An Ethereal Cloud, glued to the ceiling
I scraped off with an Ambivalent Feeling
I rolled back the rug to see what I'd missed,
There before me stretched a Yawning Abyss
Into a huge crate, these big words I did toss
Bobbing on top were Flotsam, Jetsam and Dross
Fatigued by these labors, I took a short break
But that little respite may have been my mistake
Soon I was deep in most Pensive Reflection
On how Assiduously I had built this collection
In crept Myriad Doubts about so brash a move
What if I meet some Cad I need to Reprove?
What if some Craven Cur should Incur my Wrath
But words fail me due to this Ill-Chosen Path?
Well, soon that old crate was quite empty once more
And cluttered again were bin, shelf, drawer and floor
But one thing has changed, this is Palpably Clear
My Leviathan Word Horde I now Deeply Revere
Intrepid and Dauntless, I sling without fear
Iota and Mote.. I dust off once a year!
____________________________
by Brian McClain - Feb 2, 2016
Categories:
sprightly, education, fun, humor, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
...adapted from the novel 'Mr Pye' by Mervyn Peake
Balding and sprightly, he's filled with bold dreams
to make us all happy and free.
He selects as his target a small Channel Island,
a sampling of people just like you and me.
All he wants is that folks get along
without all their disputes and fights.
He tries to bring peace to this sheltered enclave,
just by doing good deeds he can sleep nights.
He practises witchcraft to bring them together,
'if it works' are his words for the day.
A sense of humour is paramount these days
to keep those nay-sayers at bay.
In the midst of these noble endeavours
he feels discomfort that turns out
to be wings that are sprouting quite clearly,
a cause for concern there's no doubt.
It seems that his kindness has made him an angel,
the more good deeds, the bigger they grow
'til they're actually poking right out of his shirt,
my goodness, they're starting to show!
So he counters with bad deeds in hopes that they'll shrink,
indiscretions and plain bald-faced lies.
Sure enough they diminish, in fact they're all gone,
he need not prepare a disguise.
But this scheme that he's started gets odder,
there's a growth on his temples, two horns;
he's been so busy negating the good that he's done
he's turned Devil, good heavens! he's torn
between Good and Evil, just what should he do?
he's conflicted, and lies in disgrace;
he sits down to ponder which way he should turn,
it's as clear as the nose on his face!
On the horns of a moral dilemma,
he simply gives in to pure Good;
he embraces his folk, he just loves them to death,
'til his wings are full-sprouted he'll
take to the air and keep flying
as far as infinity goes,
so he bids his people a tearful farewell,
next stop for our Spirit, who knows?
Categories:
sprightly, philosophy,
Form:
Verse