Best Terraced Poems

Deep golden choirs ringing out
their scarlet anthems with a shout;
blood orange whispers echo
as the violet innuendo 
scatters all about.

The dusky pink clouds fade to grey,
the gulls, the sun, soon fly away;
this sunset's lacking just one thing -
your voice to help me sing 
the colors of...

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Surrounded by tranquil turquoise waters,
Guarded on sides by oceans three,
In the east by the Pacific,
On the south by the Celebes Sea,
And on the west by the south China Sea, 
There is an archipelago on the blue water crescent,
A group of islands, called Philippines, 
Encircled by...

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Cluttering above huddled rooftops
Of sprawling villages 
And shy provincial towns;
Rising sharply amidst swooping
Declinations;
Hesitating when gathering at the
Tangled woodland perimeters of
Outlying greenland bounds,
Jostled apex ridges detach among
Themselves...
When habitually roused from early
Mornings
Newly awakened sounds.

Electrical milk floats whir and
Bustle around manna-strewn,
Cherry-blossomed streets;
Clinking bottles in blue
Plastic crates
Rattle in monotonous...

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The hawk lay upon the lazy late afternoon 
air currents;
Floating, circling, spiraling, ever downward.
Its wings spread wide, white feather-tips splayed.
It teetered on the updraft 
above the terraced alluvial plains
in the lea of the Himalayas.
Landing with a compression of desire 
upon the crumbling limestone outcropping,
It stood...

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All things being equal, as they are upon this day,
The time of light and that of dark equivalent of span,
We sat upon the beaten bench above the traffic crawl,
Sipping from the draining hours as they broke and ran.

Aloft the terraced houses, huddled ramshackle and spent,
A...

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My  blue terraced pot is alive this year,
Growing basil, chives, oregano and sage.
It sits on my patio in the filtered sun,
Ready for creative culinary inspiration......
              Maybe after I finish this glass...

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I live in a quiet country village now but as a child I grew up as part of a mining community .
This is my tribute to those wonderful people.

Slag heap as high as a mountain 
Cobbled streets covered in grime 
Every time the heavens open
Gutters...

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Now in my time echoes
  I remember then
  my full days in a life
  when I was ten.
We lived in a shadow 
  much greater 
  at the gates of Eden
and its dormant crater.

We’d climb its heights
  and to...

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The embers glow mysteriously as the breezes pass
In Whitby where the terraced houses fell on mass
Two new friends sit and chat about the devastating storms
And as they sit and talk an old legend is reborn.

T'was here that Dracula landed, these many years gone by
Bringing his...

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In this time , this town, you'd grow
In this town, this time, you'll feel at home
your poor plenty more than rich enough
to crack the faultline,
your cup half full, half overflowing.

You stretch your legs and wings and mind and laugh
Find friends too easily,
and hand frayed throw...

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Manchester, born and bred, within a stone throw from the city centre
One of a family of nine kids and our mother as our mentor
In a place called Hulme, full of vagabonds and snot nosed scruff bags
Rope  for belts, football boots with studs cut of...

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My Dream Vacation

                  To return once more to Italy where the forgotten places
               ...

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Tiny crocuses soon peep their purple heads
Above the lingering pale green foliage
In my upper yard's terraced flowering beds
Robins on my lawn will hungrily forage
Building their sturdy nests out of sticks and threads
Young folks are considering dates for marriage
Days when I open the windows for fresh...

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THE PASSING TRAIN

Iam inside the fastest train,
This is not my very first time
Nor there is changes to define,
Same destination on my brain.

Once a green field now harvesting,
But I don't know the reapers song
Because Iam moving along,
The harvesters are jollying.

Staring at the passing houses,
Whether the same...

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New crumbled men shift sleeping ash along the wretched Nile,
While tongues of Gods once worshipped fast and glory in their bile.

Their textured sand speaks ancient text of terraced tombs below,
But the desert dance continues on to ruin what doth grow.
...

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