Best Sunbursts Poems
Oh, trees of once so forest green
now shrouded to me in pale hues
as my hearts reflection of blues
mirrors a lifeless figurine
Pray hide from me sunbursts of glow
for the sky is of mist alone
and where I roam as cold as stone
all thoughts run deep and overflow
Shadowy shaped vapours haunt me
with your gaze of cerulean blue
and if to feel your touch I drew
my hand that longed the touch of thee
All worn paths I fear now to tread
for there are haunting scents of you
that so relentlessly pursue
a heart that’s already long dead
All alone as teardrops of blue
and misty, hazy dreams of you
float away once more out of view
forsaking what my heart once knew
clouds engulf the sky
mountains spear the night to day
sunbursts spew forthwith
Entry to contest sponsored by: Poet Destroyer A
Contest name: Any haiku will do
Written by: Carol Sunshine Brown
#68. MOON WINK
I took a trip for fun,
between the Earth and Sun,
slid quietly between,
the star sun's scarlet sheen,
from its radiant show,
and in it's earthly glow.
I cast misty shadows,
on planet's green meadows,
and people took up hands,
like stretchy rubber bands,
to greet me with great joy,
like a new kite or toy.
Metallic ships went by,
with sunbursts on the fly,
between planet and star,
I'm incredibly far,
I’m always just right here,
with the sun over there.
Your sable shades cloaked earthly eyes,
I heard the awe of your surprise,
I felt a popularity,
of power all had come to see,
I'd be like the great Houdini,
hide the sun and make it teeny.
I blocked the amber sun from view,
and cast dark shadows over you,
a coyote barked a gentle cough,
and Venus slid her blanket off,
the crickets sang, but not for long,
the Sun insisted, I was wrong.
Then out it came with dazzled light,
a Sun cracked smile of spewing fright,
a cheshire grin of searing heat,
red with anger and blind conceit,
he hid from me all Earth's creatures,
with fuzzy dim, blue-green features.
Then, I saw you'd all gone,
with the Sun turned back on,
you loud creatures all clapped,
with my next route well mapped,
for the light had returned,
and my dark magic spurned,
as the lesser soft light,
when you seek me at night.
Then you said you were done,
with your star studded fun,
with cameras and scopes,
and space colored hopes,
a quick jump to that car,
you lost me and the star.
On a soft summer night,
with gold glints of starlight,
look me full in the face,
as I beam from my place,
then, wave long as you think,
what I hid in a wink.
-Edlynn Nau
© August 25, 2017
"Mr. Moon And Secrets"
When I shared my secret with dear Mr. Moon,
He didn't keep my secret and across the lagoon,
He whispered to the breezes, although I asked him not.
Was it plumb disregard or simply he forgot?
Either way, my secret's out, with Mr. Moon to thank.
Perhaps, I'll call on the Comets, to use their tails to spank!
For now all the Universe is aware and fully knowing,
And since news travels fast, the stars are all a glowing.
The Milky Way has overflowed in the Galaxy of stars
And all this commotion has awoken Mr. Mars.
Miss Venus, still sleeping, though stirring in her dreams,
Mr. Mars will arouse her with Mr. Moon's beams.
Old Mr. Sun, the director in the know,
Is adding sunbursts to enhance the show.
So let this be a lesson, listen to my call,
Telling Mr. Moon secrets isn't wise at all.
Art/Poem by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2014-10-21 00:23:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
You were once a small child
With paper and crayon
Cacophony’s of colours
Scribbles so crazily drawn.
Then Mummies and Daddies
Crafted with circles and lines.
Soon squiggles of sunbursts
Your world produced in design.
Princes and princesses
Flashy flowers on the moon.
A glimpse of imagining
A child’s dreams in cartoon.
Illusions of spirals
Sophistication of style.
A mind in awakening
Creating art also tactile.
Definitions of shade
Pencil, paintbrush, and pen.
Astounding refinement
A babe leaving the den.
Inventions and visions
Digitising maps of the skies.
Discovering new vistas
Fresh frontiers as the prize.
Technology projects.
Scheming trips to the stars.
For you are the future,
That’s how special you are.
28th April 2016
Hieroglyphs and Holograms - Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Anthony Slausen
Hot white harvest
a bone dry land
years have been spent building
this reapers Machine on desolate Sand
American madness
An empire of a dream, dark
start the towers gleaming.
Reaching into open sky as ravens
gather to blackened
out a sapphire sky
reapers machine
Dead at last
Among the shafts of wheat
there in it’s rusted stance,
Headlights broken dead eyes stare
Light nova’s off shattered glass
shown bright like Sunbursts
on the Fields of barley and rye
A Machine built on the backs
of the damned
enslaved
Lost and insane in distant summers ago
rains hide far over the mountain range
White horizon seam
hot white sands
A bone brittle days
years have come to pass
the machine of man derelict at last
on these brutal wind swept lands
American empires of madness
dream of a reapers machine
Dead in its last stance.
Eyes vacant gleam,
under a harsh yellow sun
Among the fields of wheat and barley…
Chalk dust swirls, a constellation of knowledge.
The classroom hums with potential, electric.
Each mind is a universe, expanding, colliding.
Every lesson plan is a map of uncharted territories.
Every student teacher is a seed bursting with promise.
I see curiosity flickering in earnest eyes,
passionate souls wading through seas of theory,
and watch epiphanies bloom like sudden sunbursts.
I smell the sharp tang of inspiration and doubt
and feel the weight of shaping future generations.
Each eager question demands an answer
and irresistibly ignites my wonder.
I breathe in dedication and exhale guidance.
My experienced hands gesture through pedagogical labyrinths,
guiding novices with eyes bright as morning stars.
But I am not content with mere instruction,
I seek to kindle flames that will burn eternal.
A forest of ideas, methods, and transformative moments
surrounds me and offers a world alive with learning.
Slowly, my carefully crafted lessons yield their secrets,
stretching minds in all directions.
I dissolve into a grove of educators, chalk and whiteboard,
into textbooks and technology, into the open minds before me.
My role I had considered fixed and defined
takes flight and soars with a thousand possibilities.
I grow limitless and merge
with this luminous tapestry of teaching and learning,
united with the endless cycle of education.
She lives among the vibrant water lilies,
She lives in the clear, freshwater pond,
She loves to tend her flower bed of peace,
As sunbursts tend the gardens of beyond!
She revels in warm, rife saffron sunshine,
Relishing the finest of two exotic worlds,
Like canaries plunge, upon grapes to dine,
In gold summer shine or moonlight pearled!
Moon's midriff chequered with light blue letterboxes and legos
Carbon-dating the museums of our miniature hands riding the nightingale jukeboxes,
Contoured in concertos of glacier nightgowns and batmobiles...
A topcoat of my father's snickerdoodle smiles sowed and watered beneath the morning's stale smile
With a pretty loud "HEY KIDS ! Time for breakfast ! WAKE UP !", with mumbles meandering with magpies in and out.
He laces lifetimes out of the first the letter of his name, in macrames of my mother's myrrh murmurs,
Secretly setting up the kitchen table, for the upcoming date night to be stencilled forehead to forehead.
He laces lifetimes from roasting the ristretto beans in an open fire,
From sketching the summer sunbursts and the sunglasses in permafrost pitter patters,
From crocheting dad jokes in matchbox-built bus rides emptying the crimson clouds of January.
Plucking promenades outlined in scarlet raindrops playing leapfrog under saccharine sunbeams,
Watching over me as I give climbing the bonsai trees higher than the neighborhood kids a first try.
Untwining anadems of one semicolon, instead of drawing a line of full stops stomping at the soles of our shoes,
Remodelling the lifeless bits of "Life On Mars".
I guess he would love to know what life on Mars would taste like...
He would kill to be in those batmobile treks and those glacier concertos wearing nightgowns,
And most definitely he would give defying gravity another try beneath those bonsai trees alongside with me.
I would kill to look almost like him, to sound like him and to be like him.
I would kill to try saying his favorite catchphrase over and over again "HEY KIDS ! Time for breakfast ! WAKE UP !"
I would kill to try his beret on, look at the skies and wonder "Hey there Dad would you stay forever young ?"
Waves of breeze, flow through trees like the sea
Shadows map pavement, below my ride
Sunbursts of warm rays are reaching out to me
My mind clears nicely, from all I tried
I ride through beautiful scenery
Shadows map pavement, below my ride
The land I pass, wrapped in greenery
With cool air softly touching my face
I ride through beautiful scenery
I leave worries behind to erase
Around each corner, freedom is there
With cool air softly touching my face
There seems to be nothing to compare
Movement flowing with a merging smile
Around each corner, freedom is there
Refreshing me with each passing mile
Waves of breeze flow through trees like the sea
I ride away with time for a while
Sunbursts of warm rays are reaching out to me
Heidi Sands
7/19/18
Pure joy
Capturing sunbursts
What total eclipse of the soul
Her bare hands,
deeply wrinkled, touch the thorns
on the rose.
The petals-
color of the tiny pin-
prick of the blood
on her ring-
finger drop onto the cherry
bark surface.
The oval
ripened fronds are flour-soft;
they are bursting,
for the morning
of pines, birch and maples, that pose
as if sketched
in chalk tints.
She feels the flush of Spring
gardens; the lift
of a song-
sparrow as the buttercup
gold blessing
of the sun
softly touches the ruby-
mocha bricks
of her home,
in which she silently yearns-
like the hush
of falling
snow-to bloom in her twilight years-
sunburst plumes.
.
Wrinkles, wrinkles, wrinkles.
Lines stretching,
Deepening with age.
Etched stories of life.
Wrinkles bursting around the mouth.
Spraying sunbursts from eyes.
Settling in on brows that shift.
The portrait of success!
Anyone with less,
Is a boring mess.
No dance to life,
Without the wrinkles of strife.
No conversation can include,
What a person understood.
The height of experience,
The depth of failure.
Give me a friend,
With wrinkles all about.
Her life is something to brag about!
In an instant,
Our whole life changed,
For as soon as our eyes met,
I knew my fate was set.
Stuttering I asked you out,
Begging God for just once chance,
My world opened up,
When you said yes.
Keeping my promise to God,
I strive to put that glow on your face
Just so I can see the glowing smile,
Making sunbursts dance in your eyes.
When I got down on my knee,
Asking you to share your life with me
We both shared tears of joy,
Because you agreed.
Everyday I thank God,
For the unconditional love from you,
He bestowed on me,
The most precious gift anyone can receive..
©serenityshane
Partly cloudy always (on the inside)
though outwardly
with mostly fair skies showing;
rare sporadic chances of sunbursts;
little chance of precipitation ever
(big girls don’t cry);
20% chance daily
of low-moaning wind:
the forecast of myself
on any given week.