Best Tanzanite Poems
My life, like everybody else’s, is a treasure trove
with a mine from which one’s treasures are derived.
The familial bonds we form are platinum; our friendships gold.
These are precious ores that most souls are born to find with ease.
But all of us have other precious stones we need to mine.
They are the fruit of skills and talents put to their best use.
My treasure trove abounds with gems already -
ones that I discovered as a child.
Though rough in their natural form, most of them I opened
as I grew in understanding of God’s gifts for me.
Others not so easy to break open were able to be shaped,
for once I sought them out inside my mine
and cracked them open. . . their radiance was revealed to me.
Our precious gems, God-given, must not be squandered.
Once mined, they need to be shared.
Artists, teachers, scientists, tradesmen, leaders, even dreamers -
we all have different kinds of gemstones hidden in our mines.
Once, later on in my own life,
I came upon a silver tool used by many different types of artists.
I’d seen it in my youth but hardly used it.
Thousands of words lay embedded in that specific tool God gifted me.
I delved into the depths of my mine and learned
that I could tap and tap the silver worded tool upon each stone,
and finally a gem would then reveal itself to me.
The more I searched for stones to tap,
The more wondrous were the nuggets that appeared -
And there were more of them than I’d believed I could ever find -
buried there so deeply in my mine!
The art of crafting them and polishing them up
I was able to improve upon in time. . .
and found that even those less valuable could shine!
A poet’s gems need not be bought or sold.
Displaying them with love and pride alone can be fulfilling.
How I thrill to view a wide variety of gemstones
freely shown from others’ treasure troves.
From the rarest and the clearest multi-faceted
color-shifting Alexandrite and tanzanite,
and the most remarkable of diamonds, rubies,
sapphires, emeralds, amethyst and jade,
down to the lowliest of onyx, quartz, garnets, or agates,
each stone has something of the poet’s soul within it,
especially beautiful when polished to a brilliant sheen!
The more I open gemstones in my mine, the more of them I find,
and my silver-worded tool lies nearby at the ready.
Categories:
tanzanite, imagination, silver,
Form:
Free verse
We sat upon the rocks, my love and I
Atop Mount Cadillac, there by the sea
And as a doubloon sun slid down the sky
I asked her, with my ring, to marry me
Now it was not to her, complete surprise
For we had often talked of marriage, soon
Yet 'tween the Tanzanite to match her eyes
A limpid diamond now shone with the moon
And while I'd worked so hard to fill her needs
To tend our bloom of love and help it grow
That ring so cut my heart, (and still it bleeds)
For back it came with one sharp edge of "no"
Then, as I rose in soundless rage to leave ...
I gave our love and that damned ring ... a heave.
Ten syllables/line, counted at HowManySyllables.com
Categories:
tanzanite, analogy, anger, heartbreak, lost
Form:
Sonnet
I'd been watching him for years, (black as coal),
Almost two decades now, an extraordinary age for a wolf ...
Every full moon, and only then, he came to the clifftops.
To howl? Yes, to howl ... certainly that, for his voice was majestic,
But it was far more than just a howl, it was a cry ... a sad, mournful weep,
Torn from the depths of his sorrow, and cast in hatred at the moon.
He'd lost his mate there, you see, a beautiful she-wolf ...
Eyes like tanzanite, with a thick, shaggy coat the color of sea foam.
I had witnessed it myself, all those years ago, under a full, blood moon ...
They had been playing in the long grass at the top of the cliffs,
And a gust of wind had swept her off the edge ... and into the sea.
Now, he howled, and he would howl until the moon ... was no more.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Wolves and the Moon" Poetry Contest, Julia Ward, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
tanzanite, animal, loss, nature,
Form:
Free verse
She stood, staff in hand ...
Staring down at the man kneeling before her
Strands of her hair danced on the breeze like a stallion's tail
Cinnamon skin, a stunning contrast to her brilliant white riding robes
Sandals strapped in crisscross up to her knees
Toes and fingers painted to match the jewel to be given her
And a wide purple sash, marked with her family crest
A crest that many of her kin had died protecting
This ... was her moment, true
A moment she had been preparing for her entire life
Tireless hours and countless trials endured
Spent in the grooming and educational endeavors
A lifetime of the artistic, physical, and intellectual disciplines required
The extraordinary skills needed to lead a country
And she had taken it as seriously as any that had come before
It was her way ... to be the best, at everything
Now, that conviction to excellence had brought her here
And due to her father's untimely passing, much sooner than expected.
His prayer done, the priest looked up for her winking approval, then stood
Holding the simple crown in both hands, he tenderly placed it
A single wide, plain gold band, with one large Tanzanite pear, dangling
The exquisite violet-blue gem, dancing on her forehead
Shimmering like the Merelani Hills, in the bright noontime sun
The shining, resplendent symbol to all the land
Of the binding promise she thus made
To be an oasis of prosperity, benevolence, and peace for all
The fierce but compassionate ruler of the desert sands
River unto her people ...
Queen ... of the Sahara.
(The Merelani Hills are near the very small area of Tanzania where Tanzanite is found ... it has never been discovered anywhere else, and in a mining area only 7 km long and 2 km wide).
Categories:
tanzanite, appreciation, arabic, beauty, princess,
Form:
Free verse
she stood,
staff in hand ...
staring down at the
man kneeling before her -
strands of her hair danced on the
breeze like a stallion's tail ...
cinnamon skin, a stunning contrast to
her brilliant white riding robes ...
sandals strapped in
crisscross up to her knees -
toes and fingers painted to match the
jewel to be given her,
and a wide purple sash marked with her family crest -
a crest that many of her kin
had died protecting.
This ... was her moment, true -
a moment she had been preparing for
her entire life ...
tireless hours and countless trials endured,
spent in the grooming and
educational endeavors -
a lifetime of the artistic, physical, and
intellectual disciplines required ...
the extraordinary skills
needed to lead a country,
and she had taken it as seriously as any that
had come before ...
it was her way, to be the best ...
at everything ...
now, that conviction to
excellence had brought her here, and due
to her father's untimely passing,
much sooner than expected.
His prayer done, the priest
looked up for her winking approval,
then stood, holding the
simple crown in both hands ...
he tenderly placed it -
a single wide, plain gold band with one large
Tanzanite pear, dangling ...
the exquisite violet-blue gem dancing
on her forehead ...
shimmering like the Merelani Hills in
the bright noontime sun -
the shining, resplendent symbol to all
the land, of the binding promise
she thus made:
to be an oasis of prosperity,
benevolence, and peace for all -
the fierce but compassionate ruler of the
desert sands ...
river unto her people ...
queen ...
of the Sahara.
Categories:
tanzanite, fantasy, history, imagery, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
Illuminate her rusted locks
to strip her husk chagrin
as the water whipping silver spray
swirled heavy, pulls you in
This argyle blue is painful
'gainst your skin of yellow fall
to limbs bent thin of daisy stems
in an instant, rather small.
And yet you wish to join the fish
in their underwater parade
as nightfall casts it's meager light
on the plankton confetti cascade
Her hull is jewel bestudded
with a tanzanite chandelier
as the grief of pirate widows
she holds to her bosom dear
So tonight the twilight ball begins
complete with yearning violins
and dance you will as the lightning sings
and the ship crowns you as her ruin king.
Categories:
tanzanite, mystery, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
Don't tell a soul!
There's a special star in the sky!
The future home for my love and I.
The outside is tanzanite, sapphire
and lapis lazuli.
Its door is blue chalcedonyn with a
cosmic handle of white moonstone.
Who loves moonstone?
Why I do, you silly!
You'll carry me in, wearing your
"Fustanella!"
The one I saw you dance in, that
created in my heart, an eternal love
thunderstorm.
And we will remain soul-alive, in our
eternal Romios Star..
Existing in our sparkling home,
Romios.
Indeed, the only luminous blue
and white star in the sky.
Oh, so glorious.
* Fustanella-part of a Greek
costume, that is worn by dancers
and Evzones, the Greek Presidential
Guard.
It's white and similar to a kilt
(I suggest research on this one.)
No simple explanation on this fascinating
topic.
https://farm5.static.flickr.com/4704/26686964788_ab1f3e2fe4_b.jpg
Categories:
tanzanite, imagination, love, star, true
Form:
Free verse
when the sky breathes poetry
through sepia-streaked silence,
and the earth reclines, listening
to the music of weeping wisterias~
blowing in the pulse of bleeding paradise,
I swallow sizzling stars
within cloaked scars,
comfortably blanketed
in self-woven wounds.
while you, the prisoner of my past,
keep revisiting empty journals,
lacking crystalline colors of comfort.
as crimson are the lines
across pages of pain,
and rhymes left unwritten~
stretching through margins of misery,
like flowers blooming amidst rain,
like fireflies flickering neon dreams,
oblivious to the darkness
that tastes like delicate storms,
gusting with glistening grief,
undressing dusks shivering
in blazing frost…
O tulip trinkets,
echoing ballads of brokenness~
I ache to surf through crooning chaos
in serene seclusion,
away from the fickle wind and
unseen waves, tortured by
twisted tunes of twilight.
I’ve long been the voice of love,
unsaid, intoxicated on life’s
whimsical woes~
a ghost of a wilted rose,
robed in restless redolence,
befriending demons within,
as shadows too
abandoned the healing
chambers of angst,
reluctant to sway
to chamomile chimes
of euphoric gardens
where roots of ruins
are watered with tanzanite tears…
perhaps the moon
was never mine to keep.
and in this distant affair,
I sing sparks of sorrow
to the soul of salt-kissed sapphires,
wishing the world could comprehend~
how peace is neither a lily nor a bird,
but a weathered tree
stuck in the forsaken
sands of felicity,
an eloquent ambience
where I thrive
in bittersweet solitude…
remember me ~
when clouds veil saffron
of the sanguine sun
and the zephyr forgets my name,
I remain the mistress, dressed in
distressed diamonds,
not a seeker of superficial lies
glazed in greed and gold,
I trace trembling chakras of torrents
with ink and sighs,
exhaling lunar-dust,
like a maestro of yearning,
perfectly flawed and unrefined,
still healing ~
tied to the faded lips
of an
enlightened constellation…
Categories:
tanzanite, deep,
Form:
Free verse
Dar es salaam where I live means heaven of peace
But to me she has proved as well to be a haven of peace.
A peaceful place for any peace-loving person or race.
Atleast selfishly from here seem faraway all warring feuds all bloody massacres.
For here we simply catch sea and fresh water fishes
instead of getting caught up in goddamned skirmishes.
Oh and I live in a land of seven wonders and I stay in a mansion of seven windows
Each of them overlooking a different view
Guys, seven wonders to be exact
but be ready here for both fiction and fact
For I present to you these seven wonders of this land
as if I could view 'em' all from where I stand.
Ah and though I've settled down trying to be content with Tanzania.
A major part of me will always belong to my beloved India.
Well, well my first window has a view of Mount Kilimanjaro
the highest mountain in all of Africa
Rightfully named, the Roof of Africa.
The 2nd window overlooks
Lake Tanganyika
and fishermen with nets and hooks
in the 2nd deepest and longest lake in the whole wide world.
And from my third window can be seen
the famed, fabled and very pretty
Natural park known as Serengeti
Nature's celebrated celebrity.!
The 4rth window affords a view of the wide Ngorongoro Crater
Just as rich in wildlife
Throw some fish to the 'gator
even if it's such a ruthless predator.
The 5th one it overlooks
The great game reserve Mikumi by name
no less in fame
for a choicest variety of game.
As for the 6th window, from there you can see
Lake Victoria too
and I play peek-a-boo
with a marvelous maribou
and cheerily say 'karibu'
from the largest lake in all Africa.
The seventh, the last window gives me a view
of the dry lush gold-green sea of Savannah
Teeming with favorite flora and fauna
Here a rhino, there a hyena
and hee hee 'hear' that mynah
So now it's up to you to plan a trip, a Safari
to this land of precious Tanzanite, the land of the Maasai
.Aha, mind you only the mansion overlooking all that is fictional
and every other detail is soo real and factual.
Categories:
tanzanite, places,
Form:
Free verse
Earth blanketed
in plush, green, quilted fabric from which
boundless rows of life emerge.
A season of reward, given for seasons of reserve.
Woodlands. Cavernous, leaf-bound sentinels.
Refuge and shelter to every frail, native creature.
The green leaf of summer refreshes and makes opulent
each breath of life taken on earth.
Rain. A cloudburst's baptismal penance.
Restoring the host, as tears grant
absolution to the soul.
Waters feed stream and winding rivulet.
Capillaries in the earth are filled
with this vital plasma of life.
Sky. A clear-blue jewel.
Alight during the day, darkening
and cooling the night.
Two faces, one of aquamarine.
One of tanzanite.
Carrier of warm summer breezes
that lift the wings of high soaring raptors.
Wafting the intoxicating incense
of flower, corn tassel, and new mown hay.
Bounty. The enigma of melding such elements.
Nature's providence, given until the
next new season of bud and leaf.
Every stalk, tuber, pod, ear, or head of grain,
transformed into rich food.
Alloys forged in the cool furnace
of seed, soil, and rain.
Of Summer
7-18-14
Free Verse
Categories:
tanzanite, food, life, nature, seasons,
Form:
Free verse
What's
better
than gold?
A heart of
gold and
any
golden
rule
Thus
donot
over the
mined
thing drool.
What's
better
than
pearls?
Any pearls
of wisdom
grant the
oyster
some
freedom!
What's
better
than
diamonds
Supernovas
that dazzle
like
them
So don't
you fret if
you can't
afford
the earthly
underground
gem.
What's
better
than
rubies?
Crimson
roses and
rosy lips
I do, and
maybe
you too
already
have them!
What's
better
than
emeralds?
Feline eyes
glowing in
the dark.
Ah Lord!
That
fluorescent
spark!
What's
better
than silver?
The hope
that every
cloud has
a silver
lining
Even
miners
they don't
enjoy the
mining.
What's better than amber?
Amber eyes shining like embers.
In God's design variety of
eyeball shades
Ah the licorice eyed maidens
and maids!
And whether it be
zircon or amethyst
Sapphire or lapis lazuli
Agate, opal or tanzanite
what tis far better
than all these gems put
together
is anyone known as 'a gem of
a person'.
For instance it's upto you
to transcend flesh and blood
and be a guiding star
for the transient travellers that
we are.
Categories:
tanzanite, inspirational,
Form:
Blank verse
Diamonds and Pearls Intro
He’s a black diamond standin’ on his throne
Platinum pyramids full of rubys and golds
He rolls royces in silks and riches
First class flights fly first…pacific
Atlantic oasis vacations chasin’ him…
From the states to the islands…they paradisin’ him
Crusin’ round the world in his yacht…no glitches
Shinin’ like baguettes on his wrist…past richness
Sun bathin’ over seas…meditatin’ steadily
In mentality of Garnet…pure clarity
Red emeralds green emeralds…purple tanzanite
It’s Taj Majal relica lookin’ in his eyes
Care for a glass of “The jewel of Pangaea”
Toast to the diamond in the rough of ideas
Higher than the pope…king of all kings
I introduce to you…your majesty… King Sesame
Written by: Aleasha Martin
Categories:
tanzanite, art, dedication, life, song-write,
Form:
Lyric
Did you know the Gecko cannot blink ?
No I did not, but it sounds alluring that image
Of a focused lizard reptilian in glorious intent
From hide bound tail to protruding cheeks and jowl
So I blink, too tired to contemplate the enemy who stalks
Unruly neighbor holding night long juice jointed jamborees
Where alcohol steams the atmosphere with its truth venom
Inhaling vapours that create this courage that carries cowards
Yes I will blink, sleep deprived laborer courting reluctant pens
Refusing to yield hidden gems and buried treasures like jade
And tanzanite blue rhythms that accompany melodies and dirges
Legend has it that only the cry of the lion is met with sympathy
That of the lamb actions firing coals and flaring wood piles
Eager to consume flesh of the flesh returning it to the soil
Crosses are only temporary and sting in Easter
If carried by the many Simons that dot our unholy lives
Mother was the first and most enduring taken for granted
Only Gecko’s know the patient denuding effects of focus
Turning this pages that refuse to yield riches
And daily only seem to offer me
The menses of aborted dreams
Categories:
tanzanite, muse,
Form:
Free verse
An art student, she was a mysterious brunette,
whose most stunning feature were eyes of piercing
tanzanite; silent and deep as a fathomless ocean.
Even the most skillful sailor, caught in those whirlpools
of blue light, which knew no depth, plunged into the
waters to drown.
He was a conservatory trained tenor with features
as striking and hard edged as sharp granite massifs
standing against the sun. Coeds swooned, especially
when they heard him sing. His voice was as sweet
and thick as fresh cream before becoming sweeter
butter. If he sang four measures of "Maria," from
West Side Story, coeds would mentally disrobe him
and dream of languishing in his arms, as if struck
by mystical lightning.
The eyes met the voice on the
campus green on fine spring day during
"Art at the Student Union." She was displaying
2 water colors and an acrylic. Fittingly, he was
singing "This Nearly Was Mine," from South Pacific.
The eyes heard the voice crooning atop a temporary
stage near the Union. She waded through the crowd
to hear. When close enough to the stage to trade
glances the eyes lapsed into fantasy so quickly
her knees quaked. The voice never wavered after
making contact with the tidal pool that were
her eyes. Still safe atop the stage he mentally
rejected a life jacket and dove full bore into
her swirling blue waters. She drew the voice into
the depths of her tanzanite sea, enfolding him.
His voice threw off sparks that would make
Van De Graff pale, electric portraits in sound.
She now paints arias on canvas of his granite features.
His voice flares blue sparks. Lighting the air with sound.
All this from a mutual glance on the campus green!
Categories:
tanzanite, beauty, love, passion,
Form:
Free verse
It is rare
It is beautiful
It is unique.
Shades of blue, purple and bronze
appear from all angles,
as you look at it.
My Love,
you are my Tanzanite;
your character is rare,
you are beautiful,
and a special woman.
I see your charm, grace and charisma,
whenever I look at you.....
Favorite Color: Violet-Blue
Categories:
tanzanite, art, beautiful, beauty, dedication,
Form:
Free verse