Best Twirled Poems
Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.
The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.
Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!
I think it’s time for you to finally go and face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!
“My,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”
Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.
They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.
The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”
Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.
We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat."
Peter trembled with a chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”
He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!
“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you guys help me!”
Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.
For he ran across a man named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!
10~12~14
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes
Sponsor: Diane Locksley
Written By Jan Allison & Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 1st place~
POTD 23rd June 2019
Maria Williams
Presents
Dance to Love
A tribute to my Dad, the late - Wilfred Forbes
She danced with wild abandon
she danced without a care
With sun kissed skin, her arms flung wide
Wild flowers everywhere
I chanced upon this secret glade
while walking early morn
A sacred aura surrounded it
a jewel in the dawn
A type of place where angels dwell
A place of Hopes and Dreams
A magic place of lush green plants
And sparkling bubbling streams
I drew back lest she saw me,
I dared not break the spell
Wild petals swirled around her
and to the ground they fell
Like homage to a Goddess
that she must surely be
For Gods to but gaze on
not mortals such as me
She twirled around so fast
I could barely see her feet
And even though I stood afar
I knew she gave off heat
When her tempo slowed right down
the air became quite chill
The Elements were but her slaves
she ordered them at will
I could have watched forever
so mesmerized was I
What would I give to dance with you?
I murmured with a sigh
To dance with wild abandon
with this Angel from above
A hundred birds would sing out loud
to watch us Dance To Love
by Maria Williams
This tribute is an enactment of a vision as told to us by our late Dad, which he maintained he witnessed as a young man.
He was an extraordinary orchestral musician and teacher to
some world greats.
He was accomplished in no less than 18 instruments, his favorites being the lead violin and xylophone (played with 8 hammers).
Thank you for listening and watching this video.
Copyright © June 2019 Maria Williams
Video arrangement, production, direction
and compilation:
Ron Williams
Video editing, sound mixing, graphics:
Jayne Hartanto
If you like my video please share
and subscribe on You Tube
POTD 23rd June 2019
One leaf fell from a tall, tall tree
and subtly kissed gnarled roots beneath;
a lover’s kiss below sunned-sheath
of greenest leaves, a jubilee.
One spiraling leaf brought playful mirth
to sullen earth of trodden dirt.
A flight of hopeful shades of spring,
for hard, hard ground, an offering
One leaf dressed in a sparkling jade
glided with grace to green grass blades
and rested near a bubbling brook,
then waited for warm breeze that shook
its flirty skirt on green, green glade.
An arc of bright green canopy
warmed my heart in bluest mood,
and one leaf blew a kiss from you.
It twirled and pranced and floated by,
then with a touch it came to lie
green in my hand, a dear surprise.
Like emerald hills of Irish tales,
I marveled at how one leaf sailed
green In my hand that blue, blue day,
a kiss from you on Patty’s Day -
The gray clouds parted shining green,
a beauty like I’d never seen.
for Francine's Show Me the Green Contest, 3/18/15
I remember you, from when there was a spring
When the seasons were ripe, with verdant green
Our nimble feet danced in the wind
and on the brink of everything
Not a furrow in the brow of youth
We borrowed life for just awhile
and tapped our shoes on childhood's stage
where carefree laughter was the rage
that filled each age with promised smiles
We danced and twirled a twin ballet
just you and me on summer's waves
Two pirouettes, in mode of curls
of blossoms, frilled, and tender leaves
unfurled in winds, we found a way
to soar our wings, above the world
We knew not yet
of death or dying
or of regret, or cause for crying
But, something frowned upon the season
You caught the wind, and without reason
A colder wind
that kept you flying
far beyond my eyes could see
And to the other side
you disappeared
beyond my words
beyond my tears
Now here alone
I touch the day
and taste the night
remembering
I will walk alone, in autumn sun
And lay myself on dying leaves
I think of you and think of then
I feel the wind against my face
that sweeps me to a distant place
where I recall what time erased
I'm closer now... to hear the sound
The whisper of the seasons calling
Above the trees, the sky is blue
I think of you, and feel the breeze
And all the while, the leaves must fall
9/2013
...................................................................................................
“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it..." E.E. Cummings
Another day soaked in the melody of your musical memories.
Breathless I seek, for a rosy gleam of morning glories,
cascading calming beams in tangerine tints, where~
dulcet dreams still linger over sun-kissed meadows,
engraved with clandestine seeds we’ve scattered across
fields of fireflies flaring childhood sagas woven with
glistening ink flowing in sapphire syllables, like
hypnotic hieroglyphics carved from tears left untold. Yet~
I ponder, what is heaven like, without me, by your side, do you still laugh,
joyously to the thoughts of how we swirled and twirled like
kindred spirits, lost in our own sacred spheres ricocheting with,
lyrical light, that emanated emerald euphoria..
Maybe, in the elysian castle, where you reside, angels would,
never let you forget promises we made beneath moonlit skies,
on the nights when the world too did abandon~
peacock-feathered peacefulness that we truly deserved, despite our,
quivering hearts, that beat in tune to the grief-struck stars…
Remember me, when fragrant flowers flourish in colors of~
soft mauve sunsets, we painted in butterfly brushstrokes.
Tonight, I’m listening to the waves whisper serene serenades,
unraveling sparkling tales of your seraphic realm in
violet verses, for I am still healing, alone, reminiscing,
wishing, someday, when every jewel in the horizon falls in~
xanthic streaks, like autumnal leaves, wilting to the absence of,
your loyal presence, I’ll find a canvas, to immortalize this love~
zestfully; while souvenirs of yesterday’s twilight twinkle, you remain the poem of my soul.
As I stood in my garden amongst my flowers,
a parade of blue butterflies was drifting;
past my lovely brilliant primrose rock garden,
they kissed a purple cornflower growing.
They stopped and caressed rainbow painted daisy,
drifting over to drooping bleeding hearts;
resting on white campania with their trumpets,
like sparkling garden gems quietly hovering.
Blue larkspur and columbine called for them,
the tiny rubies twirled over in a waltzing dance;
and between yarrow, sage and yellow tick seed,
they spotted echinacea and came fluttering.
Floating on over they kissed orange scabiosa,
then the assemblage of sweet butterflies left;
just stopping for a quick sip of fountain water,
and gone this parade of fluttering blue gems.
__________________________
August 11, 2015
Poetry/Verse/"Fluttering Gems"
Copyright Protected, ID 15- 699-038-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Submitted to Late Summer Premier Contest
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
___________________________
Submitted to,Any Poem Written in 2015, Contest
sponsor, Julia Ward
Third Place
___________________________
Submitted to, Butterflies Among Us, Contest
sponsor, A Skat
Fourth Place
Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.
The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.
Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!
I think it’s time for you to finally go face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!
“Oh my,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”
Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.
They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.
The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”
Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.
We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat.
Peter trembled and grew chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”
He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!
“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you both help me!”
Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.
For he ran across a guy named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!
Written by Andrea Dietrich and Jan Allison, for the
Halloween Co-Writes Poetry Contest of Diane Locksley
“We’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we lie in fields of gold.” - from Sting’s Fields of Gold
One day in a museum, my mind on an old flame,
I found myself mysteriously being led
to a field of gold depicted within a gilded frame.
In the picture, pretty flowers beckoned, a brilliant red.
In front of it I stopped, thinking of my love and things we’d left unsaid.
I blinked, and in an instant, I felt sunlight
upon my face; then there escaped from me
a cry of surprise and sheer delight!
Finding myself engulfed by grassy sea,
with myriad poppies, I thought how could this be?
I twirled around. Yes, beneath my feet
was solid earth! Above was azure sky.
Spring was in the air, with fragrance sweet.
I was in the painting. I did not question why!
Oh, there was such beauty to make a poet sigh.
I thought about a song from days of old -
a song I used to hear on my car radio
about a man, who with his sweetheart, walked in fields of gold,
and I felt my bliss dissipating even though
I could still feel on my cheek the sun’s warm glow.
In the lovely flowered landscape, my time was nearly done.
It would not matter even if this were reality!
In fields of gold, I would lie with no one,
and no jealousy would blue sky have for me,
for even in my dreams, alone I’d be. . .
Written May 7, 2016 and inspired by
the "Within a Gilded Frame" Poetry Contest of Broken Wings
Recorded with voice in June 2016 for CT's Audio Poems (Spoken Words)
Bloom not, cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind
The girl was luscious in the wake
Rising at break of dawn
If only she knew I was a mistake
Before we made the bond
I grew fond of her everyday
And night gave me loathe and dread
My heart was weak, I couldn’t send her away
But fed in her desires instead
I kissed her in the forest of green
I had forgotten what I am
I gazed into those eyes, so keen!
A smooth and gentle lamb
One day I stopped to think a bit
My stomach wrenched and twirled
Through love I had lost my sense and wit
To a pitiful village girl!
Avoiding her best I could
I hid from beauty’s caresses
But again she found me in the wood
And so grew the obsession
But so grew the moon
And the waning was abstaining
Good night, wonders of the noon
With memories remaining
Alone I wandered in the cold
Knowing it was coming
The sky grew dark, the sun was sold
Behind the madness blooming
Transforming! Changing!
My mind went all a blur
Rage deforming! Madness deranging!
I couldn’t think of her…
The time was gone!
The night had come!
I thought I was alone
But then I saw her standing there
Pale and stiff as stone
I woke up that dawn sitting there
On the forest floor
And there lay she all bloodied and bare
The lamb that I adore!
The wounds I found were like a gift
I know they were from my girl
I’m glad she fought her will to live
As I blindly devoured her
An honorable lamb with bloodied hooves
She’ll never leave my vision
Sacrificed for ravenous wolves
And no cry for jurisdiction
Bloom not cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind
-an oldie , hehe
For Pd's Contest : )
Hope lives on a four leaf clover.
Greener pastures when yesterday's over.
My heart spins when her hair gets twirled.
And I start to shake in this lovers world.
I walked around the corner and stayed awhile.
That's where I was when I seen her smile.
I felt more in that moment than in my whole life.
Straight to my heart just like a knife.
I've made that turn a time or two.
But theres no turning round now that it's you.
The sun came up on the other side.
Took away any shadow where I can hide.
Destiny delivered a dream for two.
Everything has suddenly become pink and blue.
I can't help but wait for the bubble to pop.
Borrowed trouble in this dream balloon shop.
Hope lives on a four leaf clover.
Greener pastures when yesterday's over.
My heart spins when her hair gets twirled.
And I start to shake in this lovers world.
She danced with wild abandon
she danced without a care
With sun kissed skin, her arms flung wide
Wild flowers in her hair
I chanced upon this secret glade
while walking early morn
A sacred aura surrounded it
a jewel in the dawn
A type of place where angels dwell
A place of Hopes and Dreams
A magic place of lush green plants
And sparkling bubbly streams
I drew back lest she saw me, I dared not break the spell
The Autumn leaves swirled round her and to the ground they fell
Like homage to a Goddess, that she must surely be
For Gods to but gaze on not mortals such as me
She twirled around so fast I could barely see her feet
And even though I stood afar I knew she gave off heat
Then her tempo slowed right down the air became quite chill
The Elements were but her slaves, she ordered them at will
I could have watched forever so mesmerized was I
What would I give to dance with you I murmured with a sigh
To dance with wild abandon with this Angel from above
A hundred birds would sing out loud to watch us Dance To Love
This story continues in my Poem arrangement 'The Sequel - Dance to Love - Part 2'
A Fantasy
There was I, forgotten in the attic.
Mannequin discarded, ready for demolition.
Cracks everywhere with some rags thrown on
Haphazardly over me like a scarecrow.
Suddenly all lights went out, an outage.
Immediately the generators went off but failed.
In the attic, the air went into a trembling atmosphere
Thunder boomed and lightning filled the room.
An electrical power surge lit everywhere.
Suddenly I felt alive and began to walk, rags and all.
There were other mannequins, so completely ruined,
Some in good shape. But one caught my attention
As she walked towards me. The static turned into music.
May the last waltz last forever. I took her in my embrace,
The dance began, not a word was spoken just gestures.
Mentally I counted one, two. three, around the attic.
Occasionally I twirled her around on her toes,
Suddenly the lights went on and we all went back
To where we were initially, rags and all.
Some people came to inspect the attic and said:
We must get rid of these mannequins once and for all.
Written: May 3rd, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We twirled amidst the falling rain,
Flowing locks, dripping with freedom.
A gentle touch, our hands entwined,
As we traversed the highways of our lives,
it vanished from view as our eyes met
smiled and gently kissed our worries away.
leaving our reflections
behind
Listen to the rain's gentle song tonight
Feel the tears, they're mine,
Whispering gently on your rooftop.
unrestrained.
Rice fields look the same except
for this one; this one who knew me
before i was born… and lying on her
fertile belly, she tosses the mist
of evening’s bamboo for raindrops to
moisten the flesh of gentle cattle.
Through serenades from elders
gathering in a bonfire of twitters
and jousts,a carousel of birds wheels
in a rhapsody, then takes flight along
scented air whisking tiny lanterns
near the plain,while rivers blue twirl
on rustic clay. How beautiful can she be!
I must have twirled with her on a cradle
of blushing petals swirling oh so feathery!
Waking up for some reason, dusted grains
on my eyes ignite this one
spectacle tryst with my rice field
where I have become different...
my head throbbing in sweet surrender,
perhaps, claiming the very floor
of my navel through her ripened harvest.
...................
Judged and Finalized 6/18/2016
I Got Zero, Nothing, Nada -1
Contest of Broken Wings
Resubmitted 7/1/2016
How
I loved
summer fairs -
the cool night wind
in my hair as I
twirled on the tilt-a-whirl
or climbing into sky. . . then
descending at lightening speed,
stomach leaping at the thrill of it;
I was buzzed, wishing it would never end.
My fifty-ninth birthday at the state fair,
I sampled again the drug I craved
when I bought two tickets for rides.
But my pleasure was short-lived.
By the second ride and
feeling nauseous, I
had to accept
I’d taken
my last
ride.
Written 2/25 For the Two Lenses Poetry Contest of Sara Kendrick