Best Storm Tossed Poems
"If I could have put you in my heart,
if but I could have wrapped you in myself,
how glad I should have been.
And now the chart
of memory unroils again to me.
The course of our journey here,
here where we part." D.H. Lawrence
Sunset descended behind the willow trees
Into the sea, it seemed to sink and drown
Alone and grieving, hair tousling in the breeze
for one there is no comfort to be found
as he sits staring at the gathering clouds
Lost in memories, overwhelmed with despair
Tears rain from weary reddened eyes
He's an abstract painting of desolation
brush strokes in shades of somber blue
No sunlight appears to brighten today's skies
Only darkness that comes from sad au Revoirs
No words of bereavement can he speak to express
the doleful depth of wistful loneliness
nor the solemn fathoms of elegiac emptiness
Melancholy looms half past midnight's darkest hour
There's a bitterness he swallows, acerbically sour
"This too shall come to pass," I remember to say ~
"In these days of forlorn sorrow
the world must seem hauntingly grim
each time you close your eyes and think of him"
I feel his angst from such an emotional loss
Against it his mind must be raging
Death has no compassion for the young of age
the kind ones who never hurt anyone
the bright ones whose light should never fade away
Weeping for Hazza, he lamentably grieves
watching storm tossed waves roll over angry seas
I hope there's truth in believing broken hearts mend
for the one who's been wounded and bleeding
as another sunset descends behind the willow trees
Categories:
storm tossed, bereavement, death,
Form:
Elegy
Gentle breeze come my way
release your secrets held at bay
I'll leave the window open
even just a crack
in hopes your winds
ever slightly blow back
into my never ending dream
Gentle breeze set me free
carry my worries out to sea
I'll leave the window open
and pull back the curtains
in hopes her scent wafts
aimlessly upon my
storm tossed pillow
Gentle breeze bring me solace
guide her thoughts flawless
in through my open window
float past doubts and apprehensions
into an inner sanctum
bringing a whole
to a fractured soul
Categories:
storm tossed, destiny,
Form:
Free verse
Rainbow days and starry nights,
Snow-capped mountains and eagles' flight.
Crashing waves from storm-tossed seas,
Refreshing rain and a gentle breeze.
Delicate flowers and trees so tall,
Red, orange and yellow leaves of fall.
Rolling thunder and lightning bright,
Sunny skies that bring delight.
Cotton puff clouds on display,
A clear blue lake where fish can play.
The chirping of birds and crickets song,
Invites all creatures to sing along.
In all these things God can be found,
Indeed, His gifts are all around.
Open your eyes and be amazed,
As God reveals His love each day.
8/2011
For Brian Strand's All Yours (April 24) contest
Categories:
storm tossed, god, inspirational,
Form:
Couplet
I hold dear, this world ,eager with its changing seasons,
its sunrises, reliable as a conveyor belt.
I cherish its fields made pretty with
cornflowers, bluer than sky-colored starfish.
I adore its storm-tossed seas that mill around lonely lighthouses
its sacred forests with redwoods as tall as time passing.
I admire the grasping grapevines,
the dainty hummingbirds quicker than a frog’s tongue.
I take pleasure in flowing rivers with banks of polished stone
Survive and endure Dear Earth long after we are gone.
Categories:
storm tossed, beauty, earth, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Sometimes, I find myself on a battleground
in the present or in sieges from the distant past
It may be a war I've been waging within myself,
a thorn that needs plucking so that I might heal
I wear no crown, nor do I wish to be gowned
in regal robes and sit upon a throne looking down
on anyone. For me, those things hold no appeal
I am rebellious against the many wrongs I've seen
and if you think it's mean of me to feel that way—
You don't know me well enough to pass judgement
With regret, I've been the cause of an Angel's weeping
when down a misguided path I chose to walk
Mistakes? I've made my share of them, maybe more
but I've always tried to amend my faults in some way
Indemnity is not always reimbursed with coin
More often than not, my tears the price to pay
Sometimes, even I have not found the sentience of it—
things I do; emotions I feel. No reason as to why except
that I am compelled without restraint or prudence to try
I refute the need to live by the creed of the golden rule—
for only a fool would claim the world is a righteous place
where smug faces play fair in games of love and war
If I am defeated, I never hesitate to stand again
for I've always despised the thought of white flags
and retreating like a coward again and again, in sad refrain
I garner resilience and strength from every enemy I meet
and in defeat, my stratagem sharpens much keener
I am not a warrior; that's not the path I want to take
I've been storm tossed in seas of turbulent weather
When faced with animosity, I will not shiver and quake
Offered silk or suit of armor— I prefer a softer demeanor
Self-professed I am supple of breast
Heart not crafted from leather
From flesh, blood and bone
Of the gender called woman
I was not chiseled from stone
Categories:
storm tossed, how i feel, woman,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Walking my tiger home, I now feel
happy to be alive.
Out in the sun, I’m a charmed one -
someone who learned to survive!
It wasn’t easy when I first found
myself near the jungle lost
after I’d landed on a white beach,
my ship having been storm-tossed.
I must have lain for nearly two days
unconscious on the sand,
then woke in tall grass and looked all around.
Who’d given the helping hand?
No one was there. How was it then
I’d gotten so far from shore?
As I sat thinking, there came toward me
four monkeys and then one more!
Poking at me, like humans they seemed,
chattering gaily away.
I rose to my feet. One jumped on my back.
A game he wanted to play!
Then out of nowhere, something appeared,
giving me quite a start.
A cat, but a giant, orange and with
black stripes. My pounding heart!
A tiger this was, and in his big teeth,
he held part of my clothes.
He looked at me with eyes strangely sweet
while to the spot I froze!
He crept up to me, and then what he did,
I never will forget.
He rubbed his large head right over mine.
as if he were my pet!
It took me some time, but then at last,
I came to understand.
I would be friends with many creatures
here in this jungle land.
Like Tarzan am I, talking with them,
And when I want to eat,
The monkeys bring fruits, since I can’t stomach
The tiger’s uncooked meat.
I sleep snuggled up by my sweetest friend,
and daily we walk about.
Holding his tail, I follow behind.
For me, that tiger looks out!
This jungle’s my home. And I confess
here’s the reality:
I am the pet, and it’s my tiger
actually walking ME!
July 23, 2016 for the "Walking My Tiger Home" contest of David Lindsay
Categories:
storm tossed, animal,
Form:
Quatrain
FAREWELL TO NOVA SCOTIA
A net of cables stretching overhead in the mist to Dartmouth Bay:
Our boat slips under Angus McDonald bridge out into the Atlantic greys,
Leaving forever the blues and yellows of the clapboard houses and the days
Of Annapolis valley blossoms and hearing Pugwash bagpipes play.
Running the combers out to the horizon and slipping over, storm tossed:
The sight of our hilltops sinking away brings a salt taste of spirits lost,
Reaching, yearning to return just once to the fog-land we loved the most,
Jib and bowsprit stretching up from the water, farewell arm of a ghost,
We see again the beach at St. Mary’s with the crying gulls at their song,
And watch the whales blowing in Fundy’s Bay and the tides strong,
We follow the fish, the waves, the winds, summers short and winters long:
We know the cliffs where the land ends and where we belonged,
And the call of foghorns and the estuary lighthouses welcoming bright.
We walk the causeway at Canso Strait, left side frozen with St Lawrence ice white,
Right side side open to the water of the unfrozen Atlantic, dark as night.
We hear Nova Scotia call us : we’re home with our nets at last - and all’s right.
Categories:
storm tossed, mystery,
Form:
Monorhyme
monsoon yet to come
bay of Bengal is depressed
storm-tossed tide and ebb
__________________________________
Kolkata, May 30, 2016
Categories:
storm tossed, allusion, bangla, conflict, life,
Form:
Haiku
When memories are memories long-lost,
and when infancy's twilight hides what feels
like lifetimes in half-dreamt dreams, sleep storm-tossed
surrenders glimpses of childhood's ideals
now only half-remembered. It is these,
that I dislodge from my still obscure past
(existing despite the present's dis-ease),
before life as an outcast unsurpassed.
Like echoes from out of immortal time,
mnemonic ghosts appear and disappear;
and now are fixed in everlasting rhyme,
writ on earth under this celestial sphere.
And since upon remembrance of things past,
my late innocence returns at long last!
Categories:
storm tossed, childhood, dream, innocence, memory,
Form:
Sonnet
When I begin to feel that all hope has been lost
and I'm treading water on a sea, storm tossed,
that's when I seek solitude in a quiet sanctuary.
The decision to be left alone is never arbitrary.
Sitting in the shade of a tree brings me peace
and stress quickly dissolves with coveted release.
In a place of silence, where no words are spoken,
I'm restored in the part of me that was broken.
My mind drifts in a garden of sweet, scented roses,
and I'm content in a world where no one imposes.
There are no tragic news reports, no mention of war,
and I'm slowly floating along near a tranquil shore.
In this quiet haven, faith and hope begin to rebuild.
It's hard to leave this placid refuge where I'm filled
with only positive thoughts, knowing I can take flight
to unruffled shores when I need to set things right.
July 20, 2022
A Quiet Place Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Categories:
storm tossed, how i feel, silence,
Form:
Rhyme
Addie Marie Beima.
May 20th 1945 - February 21st 2021
Loving Mother & Grandmother.
With unfailing love,
at some point in life,
she saved us all.
Though we weren't blind,
we couldn't always see,
the dangers which lay ahead.
As a lighthouse,
guides a ship and crew,
safe unto the harbor.
She,
illuminated the perils,
of our storm tossed nights.
She guided us,
with stern patience.
Helped us navigate,
life's hidden shoals,
and emotional strife.
She risked it all,
treading deep into our darkest nights.
A strong yet gentle woman,
holding beacons of love and hope.
And though her lamp,
has been extinguished.
She will remain,
our lighthouse forever.
Categories:
storm tossed, bereavement, death, death of
Form:
Free verse
PATHS were bordered by boxwood hedges
softened with fern, surrounding GARDEN edges.
Light floral scents perfumed the morning air
and sweet alyssum lined walkways; pea graveled.
I strolled through the MAZE with a hint of despair
for I'd never been more confused and unraveled,
or in greater fear for my own welfare
than I did standing beside the boundary WALL
that towered to heights, confoundingly tall.
Endless TWISTING trails were quite unexpected.
I cringed with timid thoughts of becoming LOST.
Forlorn from many dead end routes I'd selected
and annoyed from each fork I'd already crossed,
escape seemed to be hopeless and I felt rejected...
like a wave crashing on a sea that's storm tossed.
Now, with sunlight TURNING its warm face away,
I dropped to my knees and fervently began to pray.
I was TRAPPED inside a PUZZLE, with no way out,
winding among SINUOUS beds that roses adorned.
My mind became clouded and plagued with doubt.
Then I heard a whisper, while my heart mourned,
"Do not lose faith, Daughter. You must remain devout.
Find the courage to try once again," it mildly scorned.
I stood as twilight started painting the Eastern sky
and plucked a white rose bud as my undaunted reply.
MAZE-10 Word Challenge
Sponsored by A Dear Heart
Posted on June 28, 2020
Categories:
storm tossed, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
… On The Gist of Where A Gather Melts Hate’s Glacier
On The Nexus of Need & Knowing True Love’s Nature
On The Passage of Innocence To Please Forgive Us Prayers
On The Way To Meet Wide Open Arms of Our Maker
On Edge of Evening and Eden’s Promised Favors …
stretched The Trail of Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
There Lay A Storm-Tossed Loch Between The Rifts
A Charcoal Sky That Seemed Heavy & Propped By Stilts
She Was At The Limits of Her ‘All That She Could Do Lists’
She Was On The Verge of Vanishing Into Vanity’s Myths
While Searching Between Urgency and An Internal Eclipse
… ventured the Interim of Soft Footfalls Towards Forever
She Took One Last Stiff ‘Uisge Beatha’ Spirit-Sip To Lips
She Heard The Last, Lone Note of A Bagpipe’s-Signal, Lilt
Envisioned The Strong Stance & Clan Colors of His Kilt
and The Rich-Hued-Tow Head, Which Shone Like Gilt …
as He Strode The Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
(Her Eyes Closed But Her Course Kept At Canter)
Eyes Closed … Tho’ That’s Not Why It Had Gone Black
She Can Nay See How To Finish Thru To Their Trek-Pact
She Must Rest On A Narrow, Not-Well-Beaten Path
Will He Cover The Distance From What Her Last Legs Lack?
… Even If She Has Stopped & Dropped Dead In Her Tracks
Will He Come To Find and Bring Her Unfalteringly Back? …
from Earth-Packed, Soft Footfalls Towards Forever?
Her Eyes Closed, But True Love’s In-Sight, Closes Never
He Found Her, Eyes Closed … Swollen, Squeezed Into Slits
He Saw The Puffed Flesh Where The Poison Had Been Spit
He Saw Her and Traced The Tears She’d Held Back Then Spilt
Saw Her Lovely Face Framed By Curly Dark-Red, Wet-Wisps
& Finger-Nail Marks Where Her Hands Clenched Into Wee Fists …
Formed & Fashioned Her Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
(His Bonny Lass, Woven In His Tartan & Tam’s Token Feather)
He Saw The Emerald Heirloom Wrapped Around Her Wrists
But He’d Not See In This World, Her Twin Sparkles, Again A–Glist’
His Own Eyes Became Mirrors of A Flooded Dam That Split
He Took On The Burden That She Had Endured This Tryst
Yet He Could Not Bear The Thought of Her Feeling A–Jilt
As He Carried Her Where Clouds Covered Them Like Quilts
Each Sorrowed Step & Stone & Step Spanned Breach & Breath & Built …
the Bridge That Balances & Blankets: Footfalls Towards Forever …
(to be continued on Part 3 of 3)
Written & ©: 1/ 3-6 /2013
by: MoonBee Canady
Categories:
storm tossed, allegory, christian, devotion, love,
Form:
Ballad
1 Have you failed in your plan of your storm-tossed life?
Place you hand in the nail-scarred hand;
Are you weary and worn from its toil and strife?
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand.
Chorus:
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand,
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand;
He will keep to the end, He's your dearest friend,
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand.
2 Are you walking alone through the shadows dim?
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand;
Christ will comfort your heart, put your trust in Him,
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand. [Chorus]
3 Would you follow the will of the risen Lord?
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand;
Would you live in the light of His blessed Word?
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand. [Chorus]
4 Is your soul burdened down with its load of sin?
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand;
Throw your heart open wide, let the Savior in,
Place your hand in the nail-scarred hand. [Chorus]
Source: Baptist Hymnal 2008 #513
Copied from the internet. This has been running through my head.
Categories:
storm tossed, music,
Form:
Other
Heard upon the heavy, humid air,
now unpleasantly warm,
came further reverberating rumbles,
that proclaimed an approaching storm,
and we were made very much aware
Nature’s ire was evident,
as with bolts of forked lightning,
towering clouds were rent.
Seen in angriest dungeon,
as befits a brooding sky;
and mesmerised by her fury,
we watched, as it drew ever nigh.
But once her awesome power,
was unleashed upon the land,
our hypnotic trance was broken,
and we saw danger lurked to hand.
It was now the time to scatter;
to seek shelter where we could,
for thunderstorms can oft prove fatal,
if caught in open field or wood.
As we ran to seek our refuge:
we’d little time to spare,
we hoped her fury was short lived,
as lightning filled the air.
We knew we’d be acting foolish,
if the storm we’d think to brave,
so with safety our first concern,
twas our skin we sought to save.
Next calm air was pushed aside,
cyclonic down bursts seen:
whilst trees bowed their obeisance,
in the nearby wooded dene.
When overladen clouds then burst,
in sheets of solid rain,
so the humid air dispersed,
and the world was fresh again.
Next, when thunder clouds split asunder,
to leave the world clean and bright,
we saw skies in all their grandeur,
as shafts of golden light,
broke through the storm tossed clouds,
now fragmented and torn,
and as the sun emerged again,
we saw a world reborn.
Though thunderstorms intimidate,
such times we do adore,
for it is a time to savour:
despite our fear and awe.
Rhymer 10th August, 2016
Categories:
storm tossed, august, nature,
Form:
Narrative