Best Stained Poems

 
Oh, the forest whispers to me,
as stained leaves on the ground crinkle;
and birds chirp and trill in a tree,
but too soon those leaves will wrinkle.

As I walk the wind groans and moans,
oh, the forest whispers to me;
soon the branches will be bare bones,
the crows...

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At high noon mass
	thru colored glass
		a playful sunray dances
	for blessed sunday glances
reflected stained mosaic
hardly looks archaic
	when the rainbow’s set afire
		by heavenly orchestrated choir
	the congregation rejoices
moved by angelic voices



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on December 9, 2019 for contest STRAND SPECIAL sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -...

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Into the timeless wood he fled, running from the night
While demons of his past gave chase beneath the pale moonlight
The man dressed in soiled rags, filth of his own making
Had spent a life unto himself, all others there forsaking.

But in the night, as shadows came,...

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Emotional me
is out from my verbose head
like a winter flower with
petals, so much like
hankies of a sleepless god,
to wave in such elegance
my charm over you,
again and again, ‘til your
smile, left to death by the strides
of your rococo
lover, is awakened and
becomes my choka poem...

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Stained in colours





Amongst same species, let colour not stain the souls, be it black or white.





Written March 15th, 2016
For contest "Monoku #9"
Sponsor- PD A...

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Stained glass child, I see your window every day
A picture of innocence, purity being portrayed
Can’t tell if happy, such an expressionless face
As my black soul passes, this once sacred place

Thy stature diminished, thy name is desecrate
This window screams at me, you abandoned faith
A symbol of...

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It saddens me to gaze upon the stars
I see them blinking, fighting back their tears
Reminding me our distance is so far
Their numbers are the days without you near

Assembling pieces of my scattered thoughts
An image comes to me in stained glass scenes
Subconsciously I gather shards embossed
Create...

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A chromatically colored specter
in flight, lands upon bluebells
in the garden; a statuesque palette
drinks the nectar from flowers;
collects pollens for crafting
her own gardens nearby.
The delight of a stained glass winged
butterfly, is ever profound;
nature’s sweet gifts of grace.

...

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Stared into my black coffee and thought back to when he loved me an how he matched the hue of his heart.  He was smooth just like hs messy sorta curly hair wrapped in a bandana.   I take my coffee black because,...

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It’s drawn on the back of a stained notepad , 
On a brown worn, torn paper leaf,
It’s drawn in pencil, that’d broken in half, 
Showing the pain, the trouble and grief,

Showing years of tired hurt wounds,  
Pushing out from the fear,
This drawing of what...

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Feeding the nestlings she came up an inch-worm too short.

Soggy ink-stained signs muttered in the rain.

The old cat caught the scent of a mouse.

A cat has nine lives, a frog croaks every night, but a rumor lives forever.

Freshly crushed coffee beans mellowed in the mist...

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This is not as such a written poem
This is more a heartfelt dedication 

To those kind few who have taken time to place
Certain of my written poem's 
Amongst there chosen favorite's 

To those to whom I owe this debt of thanks  
I do not...

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My stained glass image
was a ripe peach 
with spilt Zinfandel
like electric rubies
pooling around a gentle ray.
It was a colour hungering
to weave spirit out of light,
so that all my prism  
touched felt nothing
but the energy of day.

Then there was Love,
A star brighter than the sun,
halting...

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I dreamed of light.. 
To fall.. 
A window.. 
To reflect.. 
Filled with colour 
Filled with nature 
A breathtaking sight 

To capture an age 
Of a Queen and King 
Eagles too 
Stream of Sighs 
Faeries with gossamer wings 
A Heartstone, true 

When dawn rose 
The window...

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I am in a room,
With a brush and a broom.
Casually looking into the window,
But unable to see the rainbow.
My eyes unable to comprehend,
For the window was stained.

Clouded with colours of bleakness,
Darkened by Disappointments,
Reddened by Rejection,
Dimmed by Dejection,
Smudged by Self-doubt,
And Clouded by Criticism in and out.

My...

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