Best Swathe Poems
Last POTD for the year - 31st Dec 2017
An eagle spirit conquers storms of adversity,
like a silent soul floats amongst the sky's artistry.
Soaring higher, ascending further from perception,
free from judgemental realities of deception.
Through silver rippled clouds glimpses of sun’s projection,
people - hills and streams merely blurred hued perfection.
Cocooned in tranquillity - brightly scintillating,
Elevated flow of peace astral souls stimulating.
Drifting like peaceful streams, formless in spirituality,
floating nonchalantly lured by the moon's hospitality.
Stars illuminate creating the path's foundations,
soul ascends carefree from a life of tribulations
Swathe in crystalline warmth of a galactic revelation,
merging with the Universe in its empyrean constellation.
Released from worldly strife in its final aspirations,
soul reaches joyous heights in its heavenly inspirations
A Maria Williams and Silent One collaboration
29 December 2017
Last POTD for the year - 31st Dec 2017
Categories:
swathe, analogy, freedom, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
An eagle spirit conquers storms of adversity,
like a silent soul floats amongst the sky's artistry.
Soaring higher, ascending further from perception,
Free from judgemental realities of deception.
Through silver-rippled clouds, glimpses of sun's projection,
Animals, hills and streams merely blurred perfection.
Cocooned in silent tranquillity, brightly scintillating,
Elevated flow of peace astral souls stimulating.
Drifting like peaceful streams, formless in spirituality,
Floating nonchalantly lured by the moon's hospitality.
Stars illuminate, creating the path's foundations,
Soul ascends carefree from a life of tribulations.
Swathe in the crystalline warmth of a galactic revelation,
merging with the Universe in its empyrean constellation.
Released from worldly strife in its final aspirations,
Soul reaches joyous heights in its heavenly inspirations.
Categories:
swathe, analogy, freedom, inspirational, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
POTD 23rd Nov 2023
THE WISH
As the softer rose shades of twilight fades
With a heartfelt gravity, darkness descends
Oblivious to the North winds stinging bite
‘Neath this star-speckled sky, his devotion extends
to that quintessential ‘Component of Time’ that stills
surrendering to the moment, most mortals miss
In this mystical flash of sweet dispose
His ardent wish for her ~ An ‘Immortal Rose’
His Mother ~ so graciously accepting her thorns
Qualms have not stolen her persona, its joy
Unbent by toil, a conqueror of storms
A courageous heroine in the eyes of her boy
Why can’t love embodied in rose petals last?
In solemn simplicity, a child’s query gets passed
Swathe in crystalline warmth from a galaxy far
Gifted Immortality is borne ~ on wings of a star
Categories:
swathe, love, mother son,
Form:
Rhyme
If I should reach out, will you take my hand,
and hold me ‘til I reach that promised land?
Will you stay with me after tears have dried,
and close these lids the moment I have died?
Might you remain for just a moment more,
shall I but falter, tumbling to earth’s floor?
While curled up gently sobbing on this floor,
my friend, will you still stroke my weary hand,
meet my eyes’ gaze, convince me there is more
to living, loving - feet upon this land?
My soul embraced the darkness when it died
as wells once full had emptied, nearly dried.
Within these walls where fountains had run dry,
my love had left me trembling on the floor
with haunted mem’ries; left alone to die.
Yet as I tried to swathe these bleeding hands,
I hoped and prayed that I might safely land
where love abides, for I believed in more.
Such fortitude I trusted would bring more
to sate a thirst that left lips parched and dry;
for in my dreams, I soared across this land,
not stumbling, falling, ever on the floor.
To Him I cried, and reached with heart and hand,
“Please show me, teach me. Speak, before I die.”
Though heartache lingers, Love has never died,
for long, dark paths contain some light; what’s more,
I now believe He lends a sturdy hand
when hope has gone and springs have all but dried.
He finds us crawling, spent, upon the floor;
provides a map, helps navigate this land.
I must admit, inspired thoughts would land
upon this heart, but frightened, each had died.
My soul kept getting trampled to the floor…
each time I gave, each time they took some more.
No longer will tears drown before they’ve dried;
I reach out swiftly, firmly grasp His hand…
And I will land in strong arms ever more!
Despite death’s grasp, Love’s well will never dry,
And crawling floors oft guides us to His hand.
Categories:
swathe, courage, depression, faith, loss,
Form:
Sestina
As heartrose epitaphs
swathe earthly echoes
with swelled up w a v e s
of spiritual sirens,
sea-fairies collide
with honeysuckle footprints,
traced by mint-green manta rays
along aquatic vessel of karma,
pumping a nascent wilderness.
In shawls of raven wind,
my silhouette is a blood moon,
mirrored in mermaid's emerald eyes
'neath dove grey midnight,
flowering from skulls
like love's last smoke,
as sciaphilic pulse evaporates ~
and rusty rains of remorse remain.
Grieving wanderlust
waltzes in my
metallic burgundy veins,
as butterfly oracles flip
and seraph's saga
swirls in a torrential topaz turmoil,
inscribing truths midst
ignited bohemian serenades.
Winding moonlight
around fingertips,
ivory threads of harp
dance in fluid palms
as liquid sun, floating in dew,
melts upon titanium tentacles
of wisteria archangels.
When water hymns
hibernate in silence
and marine prayers
s u r f in surging eagle blades,
I pirouette as
an amethyst-opal whisper of wound
in white-washed warrior skin,
for, every crimson corpse
is a thumping cyclone,
burning within sienna sand.
Ancient memoirs
cascade like
tea-lime a s h drops,
upon shipwrecked lotus leaves
where the third eye slumbers
in talisman petals,
and heartbeats bubble up
as breaths of a
windswept vagabond.
So, in fears of ruby-fire r a i n,
I'm forlorn and found,
my soul chakra is sewn
with stelliferous canopies,
and within dolphin lullabies,
jeweled life gently sways.
Homing perfumed stars
in tulip temple,
I'm Athena's spirit~
a wildflower d a w n,
fading beneath
samurai cloak of
caramel flakes,
unfurled from pistachio sepals,
my honey pink aura
cradles tiger-lily sunbeams
upon eyelashes,
as f a t e flutters...
in timeless,
watercolor wisps.
Categories:
swathe, deep, destiny, emotions, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
An alchemical raven's gray rhapsody awakens those cynical roses who
Breathe-in the ebony beams of blood-bathed sun, exhaling
Cacophonies that ricochet across these truthful horizons where,
Depressive roars embalm Lilith's lawns. Awash with smoked prairies and
Equinoctial secrecy, my neon lips swathe in life's witchy lies, for -
Flames of fury, lace every lead feather of the pewter crow, that feasts on beliefs.
Grieving charcoal stars swing like souvenirs of deceit when,
Heartbeats of hibiscus moon, shiver and shatter upon my schizophrenic
Ink, carving betrayals in asphalt ashes. "Am I a
Jewel of jinx, floating like a jet-black jasmine across
Kohl orchards?" - whispers time's wistful rebirth in the
Lachrymose lake of death, as conspiracies entwine in cyan cobwebs within
Medusa's redstone heart, tumbling at my tulip-tombstone.
Now, nebulous blackbirds, rise from corbeau cinders, as
Onyx wings of resilience have torn apart and
Pierced every sheath of shimmering faith - surrendering to the
'Queen of darkling serendipity', as her clemency clenches me onto the cusp of
Rhetoric valleys and winds pirouette with a pirate's porcelain wave,
Silencing the saffron of my soulful sculpture, in eternal streams of fall.
Thornless fate has forevermore, been an insomniac illusion and maybe,
Ultraviolet elegies of saturn's rings will become a noose for my dreams and
Viola orbs will encase every dove-dawn in a woeful chrysalis,
When anxiety's darkling dungeon, spreads across rustic realms and
Xanthic Satan dethrones my poinsettia-crown, as survival holds onto the
Yarns of last crystal light within Cleopatra's claustrophobic hope. But in the
Zillionth moment - my heart shall wail in rhymeless refrain - am I the one, lost?
Categories:
swathe, anger, betrayal, dark, death,
Form:
Abecedarian
An eagle spirit conquers storms of adversity,
like a silent soul floats amongst the sky's artistry.
Soaring higher, ascending further from perception,
free from judgemental realities of deception.
Through silver rippled clouds glimpses of sun’s projection,
people- hills and streams merely blurred hued perfection.
Cocooned in tranquillity - brightly scintillating,
elevated flow of peace astral souls stimulating.
Drifting like peaceful streams, formless in spirituality,
floating nonchalantly lured by the moon's hospitality.
Stars illuminate creating the path's foundations,
soul ascends carefree from a life of tribulations.
Swathe in crystalline warmth of a galactic revelation,
merging with the Universe in its empyrean constellation.
Released from worldly strife in its final aspirations,
soul reaches joyous heights in its heavenly inspirations
Silent One collaboration with Maria Williams
29 December 2017
Categories:
swathe, analogy, freedom, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
Azure blue skies weep in rent glacial torrents,
iridescent earth sun trap poised to garner sympathy,
dark red cloud’s indignant float might yet rumble,
toxic deluge drenches mudbank plot as toilers whine,
thunderstruck I gaze at wild indigo sea mist on brine-fleck shore
Edge of seat terra firma species orange alert mere bluster,
grim altitude apocalypse for amber moon orb,
rampant shower pockmark with visual scar as trenchant plague,
vapour trail from lachrymose horizon now a shrunken haze,
alarm bell’s doleful peal across an impact cratered expanse once sumptuous mint green
Stream of gurgling silken brook upon reciprocal bright cadence,
otherworldly pine from volatile nebulae’s damp swathe,
vapid biome acreage a gaunt reflection though surreal,
despite magenta stardust twinkle whose infant phase corralled
by wayward drizzle
Hemisphere by half redolent of sombre devastation,
yet exotic visual haunt is that vaunted shadow zone,
sweet maple leaf ether bound refuge from monsoon rife,
pot of gold opal strewn paradise escape hatch,
from lesion blight topsoil or open sore empyrean
Purple leaf and bell pepper cascade swirling o'er panic stricken globe,
perfume clad hillock under hawk-eye squint,
denizens idyllic foster atmospheric canny urban vault,
they hobble gingerly on salmon pink stone bridge en route to harried terrain rescue
Categories:
swathe, anxiety, art, august, care,
Form:
Free verse
Look at me now on a downer
sinking in swamps of confusion,
nothing adds up or seems to make sense
life looks unreal, a nightmare illusion.
Grasping at straws, I am drowning,
reaching for saviours I cannot distinguish,
people use voices I don't understand,
meaningless language, bastardised English.
Shadows come down like black curtains,
suffocate energy, drain motivation;
bury me deep in dysfunction,
swathe me in blankets of sheer desperation.
Yet I must hang on with the insight,
no matter how hopeless it seems,
the shadows will rise with the dawning
when I come to dream better dreams.
Life is so precious and sacred,
though it often is hard to commend,
where there's life there is hope and vice versa,
it is all that we have in the end.
Categories:
swathe, introspection, life, philosophy, me,
Form:
Rhyme
ANGELS’ BREATH
Yesterday there were none;
And it’s as if God suddenly
Woke the angels and said,
“Let there be dandelions.”
I can’t resist the urge
To leave the woodland path
And swathe through their bright petals -
A thousand yellow smiles swaying in the breeze.
Treading on the angels’ breath,
My feet bring fluffy seeds aloft
To sway in the smiling breeze,
And let there be more dandelions.
Categories:
swathe, flower, spring,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Deforestation;
blades cut a swathe through foliage:
beauty has its price.
Categories:
swathe, beauty, earth, environment, humor,
Form:
Haiku
Ebola
August in twenty fourteen
A sign of death upon the screen
West Africa - Liberia,
Sierra Leone - now Nigeria
A swathe of death - a swift nasty one
Sweeps through these lands killing one by one
Who knows where this invisible curse
Will strike or if it will get worse
(EVD) - Ebola virus disease
Ravaged through these 4 countries
And soon it spread and people died
Like flies in houses and at the roadside
Alerts are bounding around the world
As the death count starts to unfurl
These modern times - digital age
Everyone can see the news presage
Up to date. NOW we see
Morbidly watching the catastrophe
As countries declare States of Emergency
Life goes on for millions and me
Before I even set out for Nigeria
There were stories of this Ebola
“Another black death, the modern plague,”
Mentioned in words without being vague
Before we all roll over or throw up our hands
Crying “God’s wrath threatens our lands”
Remember this thing’s been around before
In ’76 it first came to the fore
What it is and what the end result
Is for us all to prevent tumult
Personal cleanliness, care, hygiene
Can kill this silent killer unseen
We cannot encase ourselves in glass
Or stop walking in cities or on fields of grass
Life must go on - these things be fought
And not roll over and let it take its course.
So yes, we should all be alarmed
But let ourselves be duly armed
Observe and listen to what should be done
And we can stay safe – almost everyone.
Categories:
swathe, africa, confusion, faith, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
With women the heart argues, not the mind.
MATTHEW ARNOLD, Merope
1. The stand of old growth Melalucas, graces the lowlands of our farm.
For over fifty years, accumulations of leaves have formed small soft islands.
“With selective clearing,” my husband says, "larger areas of grassland will grow.
More grazing for the cows and less hay we’d need to buy in Winter."
Inwardly, I lament, not wanting to lose the beauty of these trees
with branches that rise like huge broccoli bunches against bright blue skies.
My husband, much harder, by necessity, over-rules my sentiments.
2. Conveniently, earth-moving machines appear early on the first day
of the New Year. They cut a long swathe
but on the dam are left a large row, marked by me,
for sanctuary.
They cast reflections on the still water.
3. The felled trees are piled into rough heaps. Prophetically, the car
of the Inspector for Primary Industries appears.
“You must know, these are protected trees.”
He asks for permits (not granted) and orders a ‘cease and desist.’
His scowling looks are an indictment.
4. For months the operation was on hold
and, then the rains came and the floods—almost our undoing.
Flocks of water-birds occupied the flats, nesting on the islands
formed by the grassy hummocks. When these waters receded,
an overgrowth of young melalucas sprouted, where the old trees
had once stood. A network of roots underground had signaled
a catastrophe. New nodes erupted along all the root-ways.
Dumbly they announced their guardianship of the swampy land.
“Give us back to time,” they said , but the un-relenting slasher
leveled them again, so grass could grow.
5. I go back into my house now, secretly pleased the trees are speaking.
The topaz flames from the fireplace, warm my bones.
The hoary frosts have come. The envelope containing the D P I’s
decision waits on the mantel shelf, propped by a row of grazing, ceramic cows.
From the window I see our cows enter between the Melalucas.
They graze on the new growth pasture.
I warm my hands, as the flames lick firewood.
The scent from Melaluca smoke haunts me.
Suzanne Delaney
365 words
Categories:
swathe, angst, confusion, environment, nature,
Form:
Free verse
What words, dear God?
For an idiom
Or an idea
Of all that this means!
If not then, or when
My soul resounds
At a silent thought
Lights an eternal flame
Recalled at sacred hearths;
Within quiet chambers
Wounds would heal
Once dealt unwittingly
Now in privacy, thoughts
Wrench relentlessly
At souls adrift
Through time and space;
Words cut at passions denied
Allow this one impression
To swathe us
Dear God, what words?
Categories:
swathe, confusion, desire, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
DEMI-MONDAINE
You belong in silhouette to the dream’s theft
And weft with paid desire, look all adoring
At the man who’s made your life bereft
Of actual household dreams, he says it’s boring
Fresh linen, dimity and damask blue
Would be my veil, too, for daring
To ask: did it happen to you too?
And: when did your sorrow go past caring?
Don’t try to leave this room without an answer
Or you’ll turn back – the swathe of silk
In my eyes - you see, at heart a dancer
Each night I come home with the doorstep milk -
In the big bad world to be a cinch in style,
In the good small world to be a bright tear trickling.
by Rosemarie Rowley
IN MEMORY OF HER 2008
Categories:
swathe, allegory, child, freedom,
Form:
Sonnet