Best Sylvan Poems

The sylvan landscape stretched for miles
reached across golden fields by stiles.
Leaves carpeted the ground like tiles
whilst branches lay in gathered woodpiles.

Ancient venerable trees lined the aisles 
that wandered willy nilly like juveniles.
Along the river's banks were basking reptiles
with mouths that upturned in happy smiles.

In the...

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******This poem had special appeal to me in that a friend had brought up that I had a talent for poetry and he encouraged me to write more. I was very proud of this piece, which was written at one of my 'hideaways' where I...

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Ancient and mysterious woodland  bear, 	

medieval tranquility and flair.		

Heaven sylvan scenery colour share,	

 massive sprays of bloom flowers scent the air. 	

 Twisty esker gravel ridge,  lie through their	

beautiful valleys, woods, and  bower square.	

Echoes of aged venerable prayer ,	

lull under  trees...

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At the forest's sylvan edge I watched her magic in flight.
Sunlight shimmered on butterfly wings as I saw her alight.
Tranquility transformed me in her iolite's iridescent light
While tall ancient redwoods displayed venerable insight.

Serenaded by bird songs I admired such a salubrious sight
Of the flapping of...

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Serene surroundings surveil serendipitous seconds
Sending surround sounds surrendering sleep.
Skies soliloquy sings….self supposed sweet songs
Scintillate synonymous svelte synergies suite.
Sheltered savoir-faire synopsis swaying, swinging
Share seasonal’s sunlit sylvan sensibilities sweet.

8-30-22

Bite Size Poem no51 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier

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7-15-22

Begin with a letter Poetry Contest ~N/A~
Sponsored by: Angela Tune...

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Quiet, the leaves drip from slender woody fingertips
as shadows cast spectral dreams that breath through misty lips.

In the deep the Sylvan rests against the hoary staff he grips
and feels the ancient magic flow between the rune filled tips.

Taken from a Willow tree on summer moon's...

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Beholding the natural intricacies of nature
Is a sight most intriguing for the gesture
Found in  the flamboyancy of natural art
Observed in picturesque landscapes in part.

The land lays  in calm tranquility
This Sylvan land, a  beneficial quality,
A background of lofty mountains with breeze
Venerable parks of...

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Amid the sylvan shade,

   the footpaths teem with wooded laugh,

   the sylph she giggles atop aerie slumber,

   tickled in soft-slender breeze;

   the nectar dews,

   meady-moss and carpet-leaves,

   juniper and berry-sweet breath

She sings amid...

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Looking from a foggy window pane 
Onto luscious Sylvan Forests, in the rain
Greens abundantly covered, as they wane
Aromas from earthen cleanliness of terrain

Where behind ancient mountains reign
Meandering for miles, so lazy, on a slow train
Enjoying our views, daydreaming, so insane
Of how the earth is lovely...

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Ancient relic your stock declare
Blanched, burnished cloak but meager fare
Your precious pulp carefully lay bare
Crescent, lobed leaves bleed a fathom or share
Nutty residual, fleeting equity you'll readily spare

Sylvan fortress; natural haven
Artfully sculpted; gratuitously graven
Fertile proprietor whose bounty is raven
Perennial bulwark; temporal sanctuary to the craven
Vaulted...

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The escape commenced.
The endless drive from middleclass suburbia
ala Levittown; across hill and dale,
packed in a 1947 black beauty
of a Lincoln Continental; to the land of Peyton Place 
and Steven King; Maine.

Lemon up and tangerine down, Dad drives.
We wiggle and whine, Mom scolds.
A leg cramping journey...

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Spring unveils the vibrant sylvan beauty
Lying quiescent under winter's mysterious tranquility
The honeybees, suddenly sharp with visibility
Land on peonies with an honest predictability.

The larks and jays hopping with agility
Recite ancient melodies with renewed ability
The merry robin aplomb with fertility
Flutters away, skirting unbound virility.

The verdant leaves smile...

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The cracker crisp Maine air 
rang with the rooster’s revel.
Moving day, time to clean the hens shed.
Monstrous three story hatchery,
thousands of burnt umber; beauties a laying.

Lace edged bobby socks, red Keds, barrettes, T-shirt and short;
and off to the hen house, pony tail bouncing.
Immersed in the...

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The sun barbequed the skin, raising a tenderized pink glow 
to the cheeks of the children in the ramshackle red barn.
The three story hay loft partly empty was bristling with tikes.
Pincushioned with straw, sharp as needles,
in their hair, tee-shirts and socks 
an “itch-o-rama” of gross...

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Listen to the silence,
hear each frozen word
wrap your mind around itself
distant from the herd
Feel the bracing numbness,
lift what can’t be touched
free one starling in the night
—windblown through the musk

(Dreamsleep: February, 2022)...

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