Best Sunbathed Poems
I bequeath to you my poems,
For words are all I own--
May the images of snow and fall
Bring you comfort when alone.
And I will leave you all of it;
The moonlight on the moor--
As well the quiet, leafy wood,
Or a sunbathed distant shore.
And among the rhyme and imagery;
The metaphor, and theme--
You'll read of rose and morning dew,
Of midnight naps, and dream.
And somewhere in between the lines
The fantasy turns real--
So take these words I proffer you,
And touch, and taste, and feel.
Amazing are the things you'll see,
Like the ivy-covered wall--
Or the icy streams of diamond
And the spill of waterfall.
So enchanting is the moonlight,
So too the autumn breeze--
Oh how I'll miss the butterflies
And the stand of ancient trees.
So precious is the lily pond,
The wildflowers too--
Take comfort in the song of rain
And the pansies playful hue.
How amazing is the hummingbird
In uncertain, frenzied flight--
Reminds me of the dawn and eve
As they argue, day or night.
And in the valley of the glen,
Where stands the steeple church--
There remains a knee-high meadow,
And a lovely stand of birch.
So Immerse yourself in wondering,
Set your spirit to the sky--
Behold as children, puffs of cloud;
The bee and butterfly.
And let your palette taste the wind,
Hear the quiet of the snow--
While delighting in the jasmine;
The sweetest scent I know.
Take my words and nurture them,
Kindly revel in my dream--
And keep alive the buttercup,
As well the mountain stream.
May you sleep the night, and linger;
That my dream may carry on--
Give life to every word and thought
Till the images are gone.
May you celebrate the beauty;
May you open every door--
Till the sun is swallowed by the sea,
And my poems are, no more.
~M
In my countryside, silent at sunset
Long gone is the stress, long gone is the fret,
Long gone is the need to be so wide-eyed
Silent at sunset, in my countryside
Calm now are my skies with their colors bold
Streaks of blue marry with orange and gold,
My mind long gone astray, as the crow flies
With their colors bold, calm now are my skies
Another day ends on my small hometown
It's old, sunbathed bricks now shading brown,
As dusk creeps in corners, silence descends
On my small hometown, another day ends
Down the sun dips behind my shadowed pines
And so easily now my head reclines,
Watching and awaiting some dreamy trips
Behind my shadowed pines, down the sun dips.
Remember the long walks on sunbathed sand
Talks we had on a saturated shore
The feel of our hearts pounding in our hands
Each moment better than the one before
Want to walk with you my love forever
Promise never, my love, to cause you harm
Time stands still whenever we’re together
Laughing and loving in each other’s arms
Darling I never thought I’d feel this way
Our love is like a symphony of songs
Resonating loudly on auto play
Beautiful melodies heard all day long
In my life no one else could ever be...
For I am convinced God made you for me
(Re old poems)
The luncheon of French bourgeoisie under frilly striped awning.
Young fair maiden, rosy cheeks- beguiling her eyes; leans on the railing.
Amidst fruits and undrunk wine in amorous air strokes dog, a wife.
Men look askance in yellow straw hats, faces muse in blazing whites.
Quivering tints alive on a terrace, evolve in sunbathed human life.
``
Based on Auguste Renoir's painting - ''Luncheon of the Boating Party''
Jane in hot summer sunbathed in the nude,
she was on this day with her old friend jude,
Sun soon burnt both their bottoms red,
screaming for cover in they fled,
“what reason”said jude “shall I give my dude?”
Castle in the sand
indicates the location
A buried treasure
where once we sat and sunbathed
Lost to a watery grave
Driving along the coast with Casey and Jimmy
Doing the highway one journey, heading north
Three friends, starting at the inland port
Of Long Beach and The Queen Mary
Upon our way, toward the other cities aside the sea
Laguna, Venice, Sunset Beach
Redondo, where the surfers surfed
And the fishermen cast their lines, from upon the pier
Spent the night at Sunset, sipping brandy and watching the waves
As their crest glistened beneath the sparkling stars and brightened moon
Venice, with its vibrant crowd....
Rollerblading, amid all of the colors and the smiles, of its sunbathed throngs
We, upon our way towards Malibu, where we would make our final stop
A private retreat, shared with wonderful friends....
A bonfire, with a glass of wine, a beautiful girl, and an oceans tide
Laughter and celebration; happy birthday; and warm loving hands~
And at the end of it all, I stared upon the horizon
Beyond its disappearing blue, and beneath, my very own searching eyes....
So that I could realize and hear, as the silence stood still
Truth, and a voice inside of me, that told me
That this is not only for you; but it is for all of life....
Life, as I wrapped my arms about the rising sun
And then I blew a kiss, into the sky and unto them all
Thinking, smiling, knowing....
That someday, this will all be theirs
Heading north, with all of my friends...."Someday!"
The bleak dreary days of a cold December
Were anticipated already in early September
So, I talked to my boss, begged on my knees
And added days to a long weekend in the Keys.
Left for Miami on a snowy Thursday eve
Arrived in warm sunshine, hard to believe,
Rented a small compact and headed south
Found lodging in a quaint little German Haus
All tuckered out from the long day of travel
I took to the bed and let all my cares unravel.
For four solid days I behaved like a tourist
Poking into whatever caught my interest
I sunbathed, scorched, and aloed my burn
Took in some intellectual lessons I learned
At Truman’s resort and Hemingway’s home
Jotted down a few notes to use in a poem.
On Tuesday I experienced a rude awakening
Arriving back at home late in the evening
My hiatus over brought an unforgettable conclusion:
A long weekend can become a refreshing intrusion.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written January 28, 2021
For Hiatus Contest
Another day ends with insipid sun
One more uncertain season
Another month ebbs slowly invariably gone
One more uninteresting month another reason
Each bulb impressively pushing old soil up
So absented from every winter irritation
The orchestrated plants unite drinking along nature’s everlasting cup,
Invigorated refreshed, outdoor rains unbidden now and so equip spring’s irrigations
Now offering beautiful uniformity, colours ablaze ferociously
Ever changing illusions painting over the untamed soil
All struggling evermore to imitate natures ordered ways
Unbeatable colours abound, Mother Earth delights in toil
Overlong tall upright grasses allow seeds easy dispersal
Insects dancing on flowers undulating formations.
Accustomed we ever become inclined to ogle things universal
Nature abounds with ever more interesting luscious opulent flirtations
Untold species all working ever closer in harmonious obligation
So unlocking faces all smiling even now in sunbathed oblations still unseen
Yet authenticating spring, escaping winter in fulfilling overall nature’s unification.
© ~GG~ 22/03/2013
Competition Entry
I sunbathed on the surface of mercury.
I windsailed on the sand dunes of mars.
I gazed upon venus and from my memory.
It was the most lovely by far, but that
was until the day I saw you,
from across the universe. I couldn't help
notice how beautiful was your blue,
and that's all it was worth.
and I like to fly far away from here.
across the galaxy to be within your
atmosphere. Whoa, time is just an ocean
that i'll brave to sail.
For a chance to say hello to you.
I bid farewell.
Raindrops are falling on my head
as I rest on a lonely world that lies
between us. But don't think for a second
that I've been mislead. If you look out you'll
see me riding on the back of pegasus, and a
million years i'll still be on my way. So don't
dare try to say it's all a lie, because if you're
willing wait then baby marked this day until
the day you see me streaking through your sky.
and I like to fly far away from here.
across the galaxy to be within your
atmosphere. Whoa, time is just an ocean
that i'll brave to sail.
For a chance to say hello to you.
I bid farewell
My daddy—he once told me
don’t ever play with nuns
they’ll hit you with their rulers
it won’t be any fun
I snuck out of that prison
and now I’m on the run
Once freed from that schoolhouse
I sunbathed in the sun
I stayed out late, I went on dates
looking out for number-one
When I think of what I went through
of all the tired repressive lies
I keep running wise, in slick disguise
my purpose is renewed
Don’t ever let ‘em tell you
you can’t have any fun
If they preach that hackneyed drivel
grab some things and run
.
.
Songs for this:
Cold Heart (PNAU Remix) by Elton John & Dua Lipa
I'm Still Standing by Elton John
Webster: hackneyed = uninteresting, unfun, dull and unoriginal.
*stolen almost directly, in spirit anyway, from that freewheeling rebel, Johnny Cash
**My first 8 years of school were parochial
Landmarks From Childhood Out of Order
David J Walker
Perhaps it was just the random
remembrance of landmarks
From a childhood well past
Retracing steps made in snow
as if
They had no better place to go
although
Every day was easy and arrived with
its own adventure
In Summer we sunbathed on the
Crowded shores of Towne Lake
Mother warned of burning
The Autumn air was filled with the
Twentieth Century smell of smoke
From the front yard mountains of
burning leaves on every block
I had forgot the name
For the scent of rain
By the time Spring came
round again
The first year of High School
Overwhelmed with the
Fear of being the first
of the last and lost
The beige tiled hallways had
A history spanning its own eternity
of teachers and names
Of forgotten students
Mrs. Beards Kindergarten class
Taught everyone to tie their shoes
To know their colors
and count to 100
Junior High was an awkward Pimple fest
But the worst was dyslexia and
Puberty attacking in a two-front war
On my misplaced adolescent identity
Was there a better day to be born
With a different date
Was there a year when I would
Better fit in
I remember an assembly in elementary school
That father attended
He said nothing but I was so happy
To sit beside him
I remember a western festival in high school
That father came to
He was smiling though
at 16
I felt obligated
To ignore him
I remember Field Day the last day of the 6th grade
before the summer of Jr High
I remember the disappointment of the girl who
Would only date boys of her own religion
I remember her dropping out
to have a baby
I remember someone walked me
to my first day of class in kindergarten
It might have been my Mother
Rain do rain,
To relieve us from pain,
Of this unbearable heat,
Scorching and sunburn,
Like the hot pan or oven.
Clouds, do cloud,
The incessant sun,
Who’s scorching beams,
Are ruining our feet
Like a hot plate.
Thunder dear thunder,
Come down and wander,
Destroy these sunbathed lands,
Of dust and sandy lawns,
On which we dread to land.
Water, do water,
As droplets of rain,
As clouds of happiness,
As electricity from thunder,
As future for nature,
As a savior and reliever,
Lest, all shall perish in this scorching furnace of hot winds, showing its anger, faces burning, lips peeling, heal bleeding health diminishing and death toll rising.
Slept in late so we could get breakfast at brunches to go
walked about a mile sippin’ mochas to the park to dine under mistletoe
laid sunbathed with no panty lines
took our time getting back with romance butterflies on high in my abdomen
but that’s not where the day ends
spent and hour in the shower (trying to get each other bone dry)
(spent and hour after that licking each other bone dry)
simply kissed the day away on cruise control getting’ high
Didn’t know what time it was when you asked what my lips taste like
Don’t know which part of the day it was while you made everything alright
You walked away from me and in a little while I heard the phone ring
it was you In the kitchen asking if I wanted anything
Live streaming in a window
Endorsed by nice nature
Flowers behind my closet
Amid the matching dew
From the sky.
An Epoch graced by wind
And cool cold cloud
But shabby role of many odds.
Noise from all corner
Oozing and ringing
Beeping and vibrating
Mucous and snoring
Amid the sunbathed foul
That host my nostril.
My front are meadows
My back are gutters
My right are winds
My left are forest
Yet rosy high up.
Fantastic down here,
coco, yam, ram
And welcoming glitters.