Best Toasts Poems
Whispers of sunset
Carry on wings of evening birds
Rising moon awaits wolfs’ howls
Sundown serenade
Crickets chant their scratchy song
Hooting gallery comprised of owls
Phantoms awaken
Stalkers prowl ‘neath opera stages
Graveyards welcome spectral spirits
Points of light
Stars glisten in darkening sky
Street lamps guide travelers home
Fireplace crackles
Kindling ignites thick trunks of oak
Welcome warmth fills country homes
Toasts of wine
Lovers enjoy a fireside embrace
Candlelit shadows dance on walls
Grandma rocks
Old chair creaks on hardwood floors
Children gather for bedtime tales
Stillness follows
Consciousness retreats to dreamland
Tooth fairies and sandmen emerge
Categories:
toasts, inspirational
Form:
Free verse
She can't blame the season for her tears
Aloneness was not loneliness in December
When the season passed so quickly in disguise
Of twinkling lights and toasts remembered
As she looks to the yard, there is nothing to see
but an old pepper tree, that tosses it's head
It is losing its leaves in an alien wind,
in a sea of dead grass, where a garden had been
Her house wears a face, weathered thin, from neglect
and a fence that is broken and needing repair
She turns for a moment, to glance, here and there,
a room she has known, filled with colors long dimmed,
where the silence shouts loud, not a question to ask....
but...wishing for something..., a chore, or a task
A family together, is framed on the desk
Maybe they'll come today....
For a mere month or more, a feral cat came her door
then had wandered the floors, neither friend or a foe
But he soon disappeared, on the eve of the storm
She will call just the same.......just in case he can hear
"Here, kitty kitty"....."Here, kitty kitty", but she calls him in vain
While the wind plays the same dirty game...
Tumble weeds roll and bend, her eyes search the wind
She peers through the window,...as she waits for a friend...
a friend never there....always due to arrive
so she stands by the side, of the old telephone
where the old parlor room, knows a long afternoon
A family together, is framed on the desk
Maybe they'll come someday...
___________________________________________________________
Loneliness Contest Entry: Sponsored by Nadya Ivette Negron
Categories:
toasts, loneliness, longing,
Form:
Free verse
Percussion plays once in a while beyond its curtain
In duo with the flash of paparazzi’s capturing film
Prelude to an exhilaration of blissful days’ chain
Where rain and sunshine smack on a rainbow beam
In duo with the flash of paparazzi’s capturing film
Buoying up the breeze as it dances and toasts its grace
When rain and sunshine smack on a rainbow beam
Blissful days of October, in wide open arms…embrace
Buoying up the breeze as it dances, toasts its grace
Petal-litters bounce and float on air in tranquil glade
Blissful days of October, in wide open arms…embrace
As green grasses bud out from densely colored bed
Petal-litters bounce and float on air in tranquil glade
Prelude to an exhilaration of blissful days’ chain
As green grass buds out from densely colored bed
Percussion plays once in a while beyond its curtain
October 6, 2016 11.50pm
©2016Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
I wrote this poem to greet you all lovingly a Very Happy and Blessed October!
Also, a very Happy Birthday to the October Celebrants especially to our dearest poetess and friend (my dearest poetic Sis-BFF), Miss PD /LINDA, whose birthday is TODAY October 7 together with our dearest friend/ poetess, Miss Debbie Duncan (Oct. 7), also Mr. Frank and Mr. Kash, they’re Oct. 7 also I think, and for other Libran-Scorpions Celebrants: Sis-libramate Sandy Ivy (Oct 5 like me, i miss u), my other poetic friends Mandy T, Suz D, Sandra A, Dr. Ram, Carol E, Sandra A, Caycay and others. Happy, Happy Birthday! Wishing you the BEST in life especially Good Health, Happiness and Success. Biggest and warmest birthday hugs from me!
May God bless you all!
This humble composition was also inspired by the form (not for the contest ) and the highlights of the month below:
Autumn Season (although there are unexpected rainfalls/thunderstorms here in T) ,Holy Rosary Month, Vegetarian Festival (in my place) , Halloween and LIBRANS-SORPIONS BIRTHDAY MONTH.
Categories:
toasts, celebration, october,
Form:
Pantoum
As shifting shadows merge within the night,
darkness devours disheveled silhouettes.
And daylight disappears, fading from sight;
as a splendiferous sun slowly sets.
Twilight's crimson-colored clouds coalesce;
tinting the skies a cotton candy pink.
And yet, darkness descends nevertheless,
tattooing treetops with ebony ink.
Sequined stars sparkle in the midnight sky;
glittering gems in the fabric of space.
And today toasts tomorrow with a sigh;
as a motley moon mirrors Sol's far face.
Moonbeams mold monsters mostly out of black;
sculpting scary shapes with chisels of light.
And female mosquitoes mount their attack;
as buzzing, bloodthirsty biters alight.
Silence shushes sounds, stirring in the day;
as night's nocturnal creatures start to wake.
And stridulating crickets chirp away;
trilling till dawn dawns and dreamers awake.
Categories:
toasts, 10th grade, 9th grade,
Form:
Alliteration
My auspicious Holiday Muse,
it has a hunger pang...
A pen which merrily sings of words,
joyously written in the heart
Honored friends and guests
invited freely
to a feast of thoughts
Etiquette tableware articulation
is succulently presented:
Romantic spooning
lovingly receives
a lip passion dipped
extra helping
Fork tongue behavior
gracefully parse admonished ...
Moist apology napkins passed
hand-to-hand, are sure to
both give-and-take receive
a double blessing portion
Rational wit is the knife
that cuts this well-deserved,
bountiful ponder platter
Tasteful thoughts are worth
twice returning for
All are consumed by fiery debate:
Enlightened rumination slow roasting
on an elevated, rotating spit
The more flame exposed,
the more tender
the meat of the conversation get
The hearth of the heart
warmly contemplate
delectable morsels well reasoned
Toasts of love are ambrosia divine,
as is the
meditative digestion silence time
Pen sated is about the gut gist of it
Just deserts for everyone,
I do ink insist
Categories:
toasts, allusion, appreciation, holiday, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
By committing to nothing, one retains infinite options.
I have hid inside these words for moons and seasons and New Year’s toasts.
The lone wolf roams fertile pastures unfettered.
The thrill of the hunt.
The chase.
An empty bed is the hope of a new body’s sleeping curve.
Tomorrow becomes yesterday.
“The mystery of mysteries is the gateway to marvels.”
I stopped looking long ago.
The faces have blurred into a montage of emptiness.
Come and go; came and went.
I never bothered much to be bothered.
There aren’t many memories
And I am thankful for that.
Wet fingers and licked lips’
Blood on my hands.
Wasted time.
The years run on like a favorite sitcom gone bad.
It all should have been retired years ago.
It is easier to stay afloat and roam the big waters alone
Than set up camp on an island and face a face.
No problems.
No worries.
No connection.
Freedom is all that you cannot commit to
And who surrenders to nothing is he who lives in frigid shadows of fear.
Maybe I have never truly known warmth.
I walk the streets like a war-worn shoulder.
A little cold, a little distant, a little too silent.
The words I have are recycled fragments of someone else’s life.
I don’t offer much.
Poker face.
Can you read my concrete stare?
I have an entire universe hiding in my back pocket
But I’m scared to show you.
It’s been so long since I groped or even fondled my own life.
I’m not sure what I do or don’t have to offer.
I just keep making bets and upping the ante.
Categories:
toasts, angst, confusion, inspirational, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Bent fingers trace embroidered leaves
on satin and long lacy sleeves.
Blush roses, twenty-six she counts--
A French word she can't now pronounce.
She blows dust from old envelopes
tied with blue ribbons and her hopes.
The letters penned by her true mate.
Over his name, she... hesitates.
A trunk in attic soon became
her refuge from days all the same.
Photos dwelling midst her daydreams,
and keepsakes of sweet seventeen.
She thought he'd walk up Dusty Lane;
he might appear, along with rain
and wash away her endless tears;
bring summer nights and happy years.
A wedding date that came and passed;
memories cut like broken glass.
A heartache like the roaring wind,
returning nightly without end.
She lived alone among the ghosts
of dances, laughter, champagne toasts.
Altho eccentric, she was bright;
looked forward to impending night.
Aunt Agnes passed at ninety-three;
still wore her ring for all to see.
Memories left for wind to tend;
they have beginnings but no end.
Categories:
toasts, age, clothes, emotions, engagement,
Form:
Couplet
She's getting married at Christmas,
The granddaughter who had said she'd never wed.
We are all quite fond of the young fellow
Who convinced her to forget the words she'd said.
She's getting married at Christmas.
The church will be decked out in green and red
And pews packed with relatives and friends.
"Here Comes the Bride" will swivel every head.
The bridegroom will be standing at attention
And bridesmaids and groomsmen waiting too,
The audience will crane and strain to watch
As the lovely bride with father comes in view.
They'll repeat their vows with every good intention
As the pastor pronounces them a man and wife.
We'll all watch as they kiss so tenderly
The first caress of their new married life.
The banquet room ready for the diners.
The dinner and the toasts will soon begin.
They will cut the cake and with smiles serve each other.
He will wipe a bit of frosting from her chin.
After dinner the band will start to play
And they will take the floor for their first dance.
There will be tears and hugs from those who love them
And then they'll slip away at their first chance.
As her grandma I'll be praying for their marriage.
I'll be wishing each a long and happy life.
I will surely hope she never will be sorry
That she changed her mind and said she'd be his wife.
Written: 11/17/13
Categories:
toasts, wedding,
Form:
Rhyme
In one ghost whisper of a town,
the mourning sunset had bloodshot eyes
A tombstone place that was
long shadow
past it’s boomtown prime
Withering eureka hope fills the short cups
of the abandoned mine folk
Whiskey tears takes a canary desperado gulp
Purgatory waiting ~ Gut rot
has all the suicidal time in the world
to stomach more wasted dreams
On this dying twilight night,
a bad moon is darkly rising ...
as the half-empty
saloon
doors
swing
During visitation of a short desert weep,
a 6-foot four
twin emerald glow mysteriously
steps out of the downpour
A black-cloaked man,
with twelve lead fingernails,
was tapping a cold metal dirge melody
as he walked in
Taking up space for two,
the raven-haired man said to no one in particular,
Death was his sidearm friend
After ordering the strongest bottle
from a shakily, weak-handed bartend ...
the tall, dark-clothed man
saw gambling courage slowly returning
in the pale faces of the paying patrons
Green hue greed shone in the mirror reflection —
his baleful, beryl stare saw that avarice look before
Plenty of bottom card dealt undertaker action
was coming ... coffin photos taken of a bloody floor
Midnight was always the best time
for quick draw ire killings
When drunken surfeit hearts had a belly full
of wanton violence feelings
Losing was the spark
that lit the firewater spillings
Scarlet darkness overshadowed
the cemetery sob kneelings
Cloaked in the mantle of a soul reaper,
the blackness of a red bullet hole
was a grim reminder
to those witnessing the terrifying departure
of slow hand ...
cheating, widow purse keepers —
That a dozen toasts for the living
always were closing-of-the-eye cheaper
Categories:
toasts, allegory, death, symbolism, violence,
Form:
Epic
a fine blanket of sand
toasts a calloused skin
a definitive bouquet
a calming pitch
the ocean embraces me
and I submit
Categories:
toasts, ocean,
Form:
Free verse
Why would someone yearly toast the birthday
of a poet like Edgar Allan Poe?
And on that day toast his grave the same way,
leave the bottle, three red roses, and go.
The man locals nicknamed, "The Poe Toaster."
in the mid-30s; remains anonymous.
But each Jan.19th, like a morbid poster,
Poe's grave and his toasts were synonymous.
Wearing a white scarf and wide-brimmed hat,
he'd arrive there in the early morning.
But in 2009, stopped, just like that,
and disappeared without any warning.
For 60 years, this phantom toasted Poe,
whether friend or foe, we may never know.
(Sonnet)
9/20/2018
Categories:
toasts, 12th grade, anniversary, birthday,
Form:
Sonnet
I’m the first one to admit
that I do not mind a beer
or two, or three, or many more
and toasts that bring on cheer.
At each Sunday bar-be-cue
while the kids go off to play
can after can is opened up,
so beer wastes the day away.
But one day when out fishing
from the banks of Shady Creek,
I was asked for information
that my young bloke yearned to seek.
From someone in such tender years
his mind can be rather slick
and so he’s always curious -
Dad ‘what’s an alcoholic?’
I had to make a clear example
that my Son will understand
I took a sip out of my can,
and spoke the way I planned.
‘See those four trees over there,’
before I then chose to add,
‘alcoholics would see eight’ -
‘But there’s only two trees Dad.’
Categories:
toasts, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
The sea is rough and I never learned to swim
So I won't push the boat out
I won't push the boat out
I shall stay on shore and have a feast
Of delicious happy thoughts and plans
For treats and pleasures coloured pink
With my extraordinary friends and swap stories
About how we survived so far and feel proud.
Then maybe we shall play some cards or paint a picture
Perhaps sing a song filled with nostalgia and cry while
We celebrate each other with toasts made of sparkles
And effervesse with happy feelings and love for each other!
Categories:
toasts, peoplehappy, boat, happy,
Form:
Fifth of this month is our very dear poet friend’s birthday,
I’m singing a lovely song full of wishes to herald this significant day,
For she’s the star and the loveliest celebrity on this month of the year;
Then, let’s wish her all the best in life as we give her the warmest hugs and cheers,
Happiness and graces may fill her life…five toasts on precious drinks for she’s
so dear.
Sept. 5, 2013
This poem is especially composed for my/our very dear friend Andrea on her birthday . I entered it in her contest to be sure that she’ll read it;)). Happy, happy birthday my dearest friend, Andrea! Good luck, good health and all the happiness and blessings always! God bless you! I hope you’ll like my simple poem for you. Biggest hugs and kisses!
Fifth Place
Contest: A Five Letter Word Acrostic
Judged: 9/15/2013
Sponsor: Poetess Andrea Dietrich
Categories:
toasts, celebration, celebrity,
Form:
Acrostic
So long ago, you might recall,
when winter's shroud of dark would fall
each ritual eased the Celtic mind
to mark the sun's reversal trend
When winter's shroud of dark would fall
fresh woven wreaths adorned each door
A yule log burned, and it was clear
with smoke there rose a new frontier
Each ritual eased the Celtic mind
with many ways to celebrate
Pagans danced with woven crowns
Sun's ebbing presence dwindled down
To mark the sun's reversal trend
folks pressed red apples to the core
Then drank it spiced, to offer toasts
which we have done, forevermore
____________________________________________________
Categories:
toasts, culture, holiday, seasons,
Form:
Quatrain