Best Timid Poems
Dedicated to Kyle, My Darling Son
Sometimes it’s hard to be me –
so much pain to burn,
so much to daily learn,
so much joy to discern.
Sometimes it’s hard to be me –
It’s impossible to be you -
I offer you my soft side
but cannot take your ride
or be your forever guide.
For me, it’s impossible to be you -
I want to filter the dark
to keep you in the light.
I want to protect you from wrong
by leading you towards the right.
I want to take all your wishes
and make them all come true.
I want to keep the world
from ever hurting you.
but my darling child,
these things I cannot do.
You’re the seed I did plant
to nurture and watch grow,
but you decide the direction
your branches will grow.
If you develop slowly
and timidly face the sky
or if you arch boldly
with a brazen sigh,
either way is yours to try.
YOU ARE going to sigh,
YOU ARE going to cry;
These are gifts to your growth
that even as your Mother,
I can neither defy or deny.
Sometimes it’s hard to be me –
it’s impossible to be you.
can shivering in pain be heard,
taut timbre ~ now memories...
the sound is real ~ pain forgotten
yet heard like iced limbs shaken
and crash where summer thunder reigned
~ now fall in icy silence...
Written Jan 29 for Nette's "Connect the Dots" contest
Timid guy is turning right
A sucker punch
with all her might
Teenage girl of 17
Shows her elder
Just who is mean
Today's young lasses
use more than just their asses
It is a startling trend
when bullying becomes their friend
What can the little guy do-
when a 6 foot cheerleader
takes a sudden swing at you?
Stuck between her fingernail
A fact of life for this 5ft male
Females are not the victims here
Taking no bulls----
while they're spreading fear
Wally and the Beaver Cleaver
getting tackled by Ms.Tight End receiver
Little John in diapers
is humming:I'M A BELIEVER!!
What a way to find
Her high heels up your behind
What's becoming with the Female Gender-
picking FIGHTS instead of using blender?
this new breed of BREASTED fighters,indeed
Goodbye Rocky Balboa
Adios Apollo Creed!!
She spoke them gently
words of her remorse came quick
Unspoken now said
Timid eyes
From the forest
Beckon; yet hold back,
Wanting to love;
Afraid to trust.
Lithe body
Like a deer
Ready to spring
At the first sign
Of danger.
Delicate features
Worthy of infinite contemplation,
Question,
Ready to colour
At the slightest provocation.
I want to coax her
From the forest,
Show her
There is nothing to fear,
Yet; I know there is.
So, from a distance
I watch
The timid gentle creature,
All I can give her
Is freedom.
I want to stop these fingers
As I want to stop this brain
To be dominated by mind's splinters
Those words which unuttered to be complained
I want to close my ears
As they whisper from my heart to my mind's gears
No gate can stop them, wandering like a keen spears
If only numbness could be gained just by glasses of beers
I want flowers, sweets and beauties
To dispel all the anxieties and insecurities
But devil besides me
Replace the angel of my sanity
I am timid
To release my self from dungeon of rules and ethic
To break my inability and my limit
To be undressed from this boring gimmick
Butterfly flies out of cocoon
Counting time from seconds to days
Making my own sun in my very noon
While collecting diamonds in my own ways
Timid Timmy dormouse had a lovely home
But he was so sad and lonely; he didn’t want to be alone
He did some spring-cleaning so the house was really neat
He went and brought some nuts and some tasty things to eat
Put up a lovely poster inviting people to tea
Thought it was a good thing to stop him being so lonely
Visitors from far and wide came knocking at his door
Timmy was so happy he’d never had good friends before
He saw the cutest little dormouse in her pretty dress
Stood out like a shining star, he fell in love I do confess
Now Timmy and his ladylove have set up home together
Happy and so much in love, together forever and ever
Jan Allison 16th July 2014
Written for Animals Alive Contest.... but withdrawn in favour of Poor Peter Penguin Poem
Fire and ice
Paradoxes combine.
A battle. Fought tooth for tooth.
A truce held.
But still holds no truth.
A prisoner. Of pain and gore.
Of royal birth. But imprisoned by woe.
Satisfaction.a dire necessity,
Of the cruel and crude
Mundane mockery.
The jury. She decides.
Her majesty .So sedately revived.
Beauty. So invigorating.
Ravaged. And so very beaten.
Presumptuously, we surround and capture
Her copious territory,
In all its glory, almost divine.
Killing, mass murdering, and stabbing her.
Asphyxiated. She struggles to survive.
Serendipity .Such a marvelous delicacy.
So rare. And undefined.
Exquisitely .so gracefully.
She leads her mate. Amour in hand,
As she dances so playfully with venomous destiny.
A battle of blood, wit and more.
Tired, she wakes. Tired, she soars.
Through the sea of hate, malevolence and pain,
Through the bloody field,
Walking through hordes of heads, feet and stacked bones.
Nature, as violent as she may seem,
Neutral, loving...breathing pure felicity.
Ragged, and broken, torn and distraught,
With fervor she retreats,
And with fervor, shall she retort.
by
Amanda M Miller
Timid, gutless, young man feebly muttered
Then mustered spartan courage and puttered,
And fluttered he like a dove
And stuttered to say his love,
But "Shoo - Shoo!" pretty, beloved uttered.
Posted on Oct. 5, 2020
Alliteration 004 (I prefer old poems) Poetry Contest
Poet Destroyer A
Limerick – Syllabic count: 10/10/7/7/10 syllables
From the way she walks, her heart is clearly on the high side
her gracious looks sinks every confidence in so much sand
chances have come and gone, he cracks an empty barrel
she makes it laborious for an admirer to be single
can it be this difficult to mingle and seek consent?
His promises of their bliss still came out in singular tenses
together with his panics, he’s evidently not a player in the game
expressing a not-so matured exposure not far from his cradle
he’s an amazement with the need to step up much higher
he goes into hiding, follow ups are superfluous
he can only get her type in a planet that is cuboid
his lack is cute, so she ditches sophistication
to amazingly give his plain heart a realistic chance.
Filter through the fortitude
mix together the mundane
cut up, squeezed, then discarded
but not a bit of flavor remains
tepid to the tongue
the words still taste all wrong
rinsing down the memories
they've been sitting out too long
the kettle starts to whistle
timid thoughts begin to run
In spring, love crept like a timid stream among the early buds of my soul,
I remember your eyes like the azure sky, enchanting me with every glance, an old and new spell,
On a country road we walked, hand in hand, treading on the whispers of the earth awakened from slumber,
Then we kissed under the budding willow, a promise of life that revives with each spring.
In that summer, we lay on the hot sand until night swallowed the weary sun,
It showed us a new delight—shimmering diamonds just for the two of us, an intimate galaxy,
We shared dreams and laughter under the moonlight, two souls thinking that infinity is here and now,
And that our love is an endless sea embracing us with waves of crazy happiness.
In autumn, the days turned crisp, and though October's leaves shone in vivid colors,
Your eyes lost their sparkle, and the nights grew colder, foretelling a separation,
With every rustle of fallen leaves, I felt our love slowly fading,
A summer dream disappearing on the horizon, leaving behind only the shadows of a time that was.
In winter, I stood alone among the flakes dancing from a frozen sky, touching my face,
Though the snow was beautiful and pearly, a carpet of silence dressing the world in quiet,
In my heart was only the longing for your embrace, a search for warmth lost in the white cold,
And every breath was a dream wrapped in mist, a whisper slipping into nothingness.
Thus pass the seasons of love, month by month and season by season, a dance of coming and going,
And I wonder if love will ever grow, like a tree unafraid of change.
Timid Tom had a typical token,
a tiny teddybear,
a tasty taco,
a tattered tophat
Tom had his things taken by taunting Tess
, but Tom toughen
So he told the tall teacher
Now he is no longer timid Tom
You caught the bird
That got away from me
So keep it safe
And hold it gently
Since its bones
Are easily broken
And though it might
Flap its wings in fear
at first,
Stroke its feathers
And wait
And you just might
Hear it sing
In the room where light dances through the curtains like a timid dream,
I wonder if friendships are not just dusty treasures on the shelves of forgetfulness,
once shining like stars on a never-ending night,
now just silent props in a theater abandoned by time.
Beloved faces melt into the shadows of memories,
old photographs in an album we no longer open,
where their laughter is distant echoes,
like the whispers of the wind through the leaves of late autumn.
The forgotten trophy, covered with the dust of years,
is rediscovered when spring urges us to clean the corners of memory,
I wipe away the forgetfulness and guilt envelops me like a calm sea,
for letting it be lost in the mists of time.
Nostalgia floods me like an unyielding wave,
hitting the rocks of the heart with bittersweet memories,
I lose myself in the days when everything seemed eternal,
when every moment was a sun at dusk.
But after the waves retreat, leaving the foam of dreams on the shore,
I return to the reality that embraces me with silence,
I place the trophy back on its lonely shelf,
and I wonder if I will ever open the drawer of the heart again,
where sleeping stories await the light of courage.