Best Streamlets Poems
Sun flow progressed from east to west,
with rays of light, the day is blessed.
Like suns imbue, rays beaming through,
my heart still shines with love for you.
Sun rays presume that flowers bloom,
and fill the air with sweet perfume.
Like flowers hue of red and blue,
my heart still blooms with love for you.
The charmed mystique of forest creek
that trickles down a mountain’s cheek.
Like streamlets spew their water through,
my heart still flows with love for you.
From Moon’s soft glow, the moonbeams flow,
and light the darkness down below.
Like moonbeams strew the silvery hue,
my heart still glows with love for you.
A candle’s light glows in the night
as shadows dance with calm delight.
Like flames that grew with heat on cue,
my heart still burns with love for you.
August 24, 2019
Categories:
streamlets, love, nature, romantic,
Form:
Rhyme
A bright array of rainbow hues
adorns the parchment now and then,
and gives a glimpse of writer’s views,
an image brushed by poet’s pen.
The yellow hues of morning sun,
the break of dawn described in verse,
or crimson sky as day is done
when, in the sea, sun will immerse.
A poem of gentle flower’s bloom
who’s petals drip with morning dew;
‘tis nature’s soft pastel perfume,
or metaphor of passion’s hue.
A verse of mountains white with snow
or verdant forest lush with pine;
the grass cloaked valley down below
where streamlets flow through scented vine.
Emotions penned within each verse;
sometimes a melancholy blue,
or red with passion to coerce
their dreams, as lovers’ lives renew.
A verse of lost love penned in rhyme,
or poem lamenting loved one’s death;
a lilt of lovers held by time
as passion takes away their breath.
A writer’s dream as brushed with quill
upon the parchment comes to life
as vibrant rainbow colors spill
his heart, with its emotions rife.
This poet’s heart, a calm serene,
he sees the world in many ways,
and with his pen he paints the scene,
preserved in time, a moments gaze.
September 2, 2020
Categories:
streamlets, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
10-20-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
autumn serenade
autumn spreads her wings
arias of tawny hues ~
summer drifts to sleep
amber moon rises
pumpkins reflect twilight song ~
shadows breathe cobwebs
streams of orange leaves
flow in tangerine torrents ~
fall river medley
streamlets slowly flow
red leaves twirl on lazy swells ~
rainclouds harmonies
mischievous fall winds
robs boughs of golden solos ~
bittersweet in bloom
harvest serenade
leaves drip with crimson splendor ~
sapphire skies sing blues
Categories:
streamlets, autumn, color, song,
Form:
Haiku
Showers fall and robins call.
Buds grow on the trees.
Meadows green; long grasses lean
warmed by April’s breeze.
Flowers beam and streamlets gleam
on each mountain slope.
Colors sing and everything
blossoms love and hope.
Posted March 20, 2017 FIRST day of Spring!
This in 7/5 Trochee form, my own invented form, a type of Quatrain.
Categories:
streamlets, spring,
Form:
Quatrain
My waters had their genesis in the sea,
A path created was fashioned for me;
It can't be changed for there my toil
Winds through life in a twisting coil.
My waters end where they began,
Where life takes hold of its brief span;
To return to that enigmatic source,
Where once again I flow on my course.
The fragrance from the flowers as I pass,
Scent the air with whispers from the grass;
And my waters run down as they go
Over gemlike stones my streamlets flow.
And the tears that pour from my sad eyes,
Go back to the sea where all rivers rise;
And if my soul should suddenly leap
Over a ledge to kiss violets that sleep;
Then I will wander back to the sea,
The mother source that set me free.
And if those riddles I must keep,
Let me not complain, but sweep
On to the bitter end without fear,
Knowing that He who walks with me is near.
Categories:
streamlets, imagination, me, life, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Soft showers fall and robins call.
The scent of grass is sweet.
Meadows green and saplings lean
in warmth of April’s breeze.
The skies are fair and in the air
the lilacs’ fragrance wafts.
Small buds first show, then quickly grow –
delighting bees and wasps!
May’s flowers beam and streamlets gleam
along the mountain slopes.
Colors sing and everything
is life and love and hope!
Categories:
streamlets, seasons
Form:
Rhyme
Where black-necked cranes come to chat with me
In the company of wine and deep brown honey
Flowing from apple twigs in the heavenly valley
Of Bumthang , carved into the sublime Himalayas
By glacial melt and monsoon rains in collaboration
Giving rise to lovely landscapes offering relaxation
In Buddha’s silence, there lies my dream destination
To fill some vacuum in a week of my next vacation
In the north east of the Indian subcontinent where
Beautiful girls and Buddhist monks are very sincere
(Bum refers to girls and thang a flat piece of land)
Everywhere you will see Buddha’s lifted hand
In consonance with the land an ever demure voice
Of Buddhism says: go to the mystic blue and rejoice
Along the murmur of icy rivers and lakes everywhere
Pink rhododendrons exude fragrance in the fresh air
Flowers red, yellow, pink, white, lilac, green and blue
For our sore minds and thirsty psyche all these hues
In the shades of Pine and Oak monasteries as a nest
The imposing peaks descend here to take a little rest
Four charming valleys, Tang, Ura, Choekhor, Chumey
Will greet us in a smile on our trip to Bumthang valley
Morning is wakened here by blue-capped rock thrush
Beside the flapping flags the gurgling streamlets gush
Where Gross National Happiness instead of GDP
Determines economic progress of the society
Come, dear friend, to join me in the amazing journey
From the chains of self to a deep sense of infinity
_________________________________________________
February 13, 2016
Categories:
streamlets, beautiful, beauty, change, imagery,
Form:
Verse
Try to consider your hours of play,
That they are the ways of sharing the day;
For when all is said and done,
And the victory is won;
You may want to stay and shine,
In the sweet hours of summertime.
Always with some songs to cheer,
With silver church bells ringing clear,
From a great grey lofty steeple,
Soaring spire o'er all the people.
We walk the street in summer's rain
Humming melodies again;
On pale white pathway twisting far,
Thro twilight's dewy misting star;
Where leafy ferns and mosses grow,
And shady glen where streamlets flow;
Where nymphs who dance on silver streams,
Trip their feet in the river of dreams.
My friend, where I go you go too,
Find joy in life for the hours are few.
Categories:
streamlets, allegorysilver,
Form:
Lyric
Ash Groves
“Down yonder green valley where streamlets meander
When twilight is fading I pensively rove,
Or at the bright noontide in solitude wander
Amid the dark shades of the lonely Ash Grove.
‘Tis there where the blackbird is cheerfully singing,
Each warbler enchants with his note from the tree,
Ah, then little I think of sorrow or sadness,
The Ash Grove enchanting spells beauty for me.”
Wales to me,
Though stranger to my step,
Like the Ash groves on rolling mountains
Blackbirds warble - long days of summer’s smile;
A pensive rover with my Welsh companions
Of Corgi’s, wily terriers
About my feet;
Honoring a Red Dragon, in this land of song
Where songs bequeathed to my heart -
Sung before my time - left for me sing;
In lyrics of canaries free of cages
Rising up from deep shafts of dark coal
Sing out their freedom;
Still heard in voyages ‘cross the Celtic Sea –
Pensive legends of home
‘Cross turbulent oceans;–
Finding rolling mountains to climb
Upon Liberty’s broad wings
To Ash groves of white and blue;
Ne’er forgetting Rock Rose or Snowden Lily
The Red Kite soaring
High up in Welsh hearts;
No more to pensively roam
Through new ash groves of freedom
In this new land of song -
New land of song.
“The ash grove, how graceful how plainly ‘tis speaking
The harp thro’ it playing has language for me…
The Ash Grove alone is my home.”
Based on the Welsh folk song “Ash Grove.”
Song form AABAABA
Part of my family came from Wales to Kentucky and Tennessee in the 1800’s. Their last name was Henderson.
7-2-20
Categories:
streamlets, family, music,
Form:
Lyric
From pine-scented forests, past boulders and streams,
To clear lakes encircled by murals and dreams
Where bright clouds emblazon a warm azure sky,
A trail through the mountains is one I must try.
When bluebells stop blooming and nighttime grows cold,
The breeze makes the aspen trees shimmer with gold.
The chirp of the pika is scarce to be heard;
The eerie elk-bugle is now the watchword.
The sounds and their season soon snuffed out by snow,
The silky white peaks wear a pink, sensual glow
At sunrise when raw arctic blasts turn serene,
Inviting to view how they’ve sculpted the scene.
As ice turns to water and lush green arrives,
The crags reappear and new wildlife thrives.
Soon streamlets will gurgle and columbines grow;
The mountains are calling and I must go.
Categories:
streamlets, america, beautiful, inspiration, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
SKY
It slides down silently
From the naked branches of tree
Hanging bats of shadow
And creeps incessantly
In the barren alleys
When the hearsay of the sun crosses
The western sky
From the womb of the horizon
From bamboo grooves
From the meeting halls of villages
From running sewerage
From balconies
From bungalows
From palaces
From castles
There sprout numerous streamlets
Of stinking vices
And immense wings of darkness
Interweaving itself
Make a hefty nest
On the blunt conscience of population
Where numerous tongues of desire
Getting algebraically multiplied
Every day in comparison to the last
Put a garland of upheaval
In the neck of silence
And there accumulate
Thousands years of old benevolence
Heritage of customs
And worn out dreams
Sparkles attached with gut
And taking fire in its gall
Slowly and steadily
Sky begins to shut in hut
Categories:
streamlets, allegory, angst, community, conflict,
Form:
Blank verse
A stormy, cold scraped winter sight,
quiet song birds forsake flight,
down fluffed on pale limbs lucite,
a fantasy landscape, pearl blue.
In grey tone wrap, mist frozen dew,
her smooth complexion, silver hued,
Luna surveys earth's wild retinue
in closed dens of hibernate sleep.
Snow drifts creep the mountain steeps
and cuddle velvet valleys, deep,
where black streamlets forget to leap,
their summer memories iced still.
Winter plys her voluminous skill,
snow sculpting on each vale and hill;
queen portrait of a glass toned will
mirrored in each hardened lake.
She cherishes a world opaque,
makes the sun his warmth forsake;
the seasonal round's numb heartache,
a stormy, cold scraped winter sight.
December 5, 2017
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
streamlets, imagery, seasons, snow, winter,
Form:
Rhyme
He runs
Shoes barely touch gravel.
His breath
shallow and fast gasps
in mouthful gulps of speed and need.
And when he leaps,
his calves long and graceful,
but he doesn't acknowledge.
For when he runs
he discharges his mind;
sends out his thoughts;
discards his logic;
bans his feelings.
When he runs
all that matters doesn't matter
anymore.
He runs
And doesn't even notice
That tears run little rivulets,
Streamlets of oblivion,
Carrying with them
remnants of painful nights,
or gazing at stars
that just didn't want to
form themselves into
dreams to last nights long.
But his feet kick out
those last lost memories
rags and tatters of thoughts.
He runs
for today and tomorrow,
for a life long of knowing
that waking up means
seeing those trainers
stand in a corner,
with ballet shoes,
loved but neglected,
decayed and discarded,
so he runs with that knowledge,
an awareness still painful,
accepts recognition,
and slows down,
and finally
nods.
Categories:
streamlets, dance, life, loss, nostalgia,
Form:
Free verse
Trees exude the moonlights
Into streamlets, and crickets stir up
The crystal sounds of water
Categories:
streamlets, moon, night, peace, tree,
Form:
Haiku
Life in flow.
O River! play on your placid music through the meadows,
Crystal clear,glowy streamlets flow yet you are still much there,
You murmur to me a tale of truth,trust,perseverance,
Flipping fishes you feed are merry,fresh,energetic,
When I swim in you,you make me strong and quench my thirst too.
P.S-5 lines of 14 syllables each.
Contest:Form-River Line
Sponsor:Rick Parise.
17/11/2016.
Categories:
streamlets, appreciation, beauty, nature, river,
Form:
Verse