Best Unearths Poems


A Raven's Thirst - Part 2

II

Afar across cool waves on quiet shores,
beneath each rising sun her beauty grew,
as pure as falling snow, the skin she wore
aglow with radiance as sweet as dew.

Soft burnished raven tresses, black as night,
caressed her face then fell in silk cascade,
and honeyed tones adorned a voice, so light,
that echoed from blush lips in serenade.

As days and many months of time weaved on
she blossomed, as a rose of scent so rare,
yet of her many suitors she’d have none,
dismissed with gentle wave of hand so fair.

A lone and wistful silver moonlit stroll
unearths a song that strangely stirs her soul.
Categories: unearths, love,
Form: Sonnet

A Sacred Place

This monstrous life cannot defeat my purpose.
I am here to do God’s work.
The message he sends in daily living unearths.
I am solidified not to dissolve down a disastrous path.
Seclusion is amongst the butterflies with tranquility of a grandeur faith.
I spread my wings on a nature walk to achieve a blissful saturation.
Fulfilled I am in determination.
No more do I need to define self-worth.
The privacy I have was earned.
You see I talked to the Lord when I was alone to gain inner peace.
In prayer, I isolated myself.
Just as The Word says, aloneness is necessary to accomplish solitude.
Therefore, I found my resting place amongst the trees.

This monstrous life cannot defeat my purpose.
I am here to do the Lord's work.
My wings are foreseen and my life is for a greater determination.
____________________________________________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 05, 2014!
FORM: ANAPHORA
Categories: unearths, bible, birth, blessing, courage,
Form: Verse

Premium Member On Any One Day

(An Addingham Poem)

Clashes of old tainted galvanised buckets
against the stone flags daily ring out across the manor farm yard,
profanity given proficiently if the swine catches Father off guard.
Lusty teats await emancipation of release ‘Friesians’ frolic in resolution,
‘Pete’ the old boss Bull awaits the dawning the perfect scene for evolution.
The purple haze of Rombald’s moor embraces the horizon
while the aging grey ‘Cat-steps’ hide within the mist,
yet sparkle with dew in the sunlight.
David, the youngest in the family given to shepherding,
some lambs endure many a bastard day, here springtime never early.
The plough a relic of the nineteen thirty’s cuts through the soil
like a knife through butter, till it unearths a boulder, and Joe is not best pleased,
expletive aggression does not fix the problem, but his brother Abe does.
Magpie and Crow recipient to all that exist, as long as it does not move,
screaming Owls grace the heathland, their screech complementing
the never-ending whistling winds.
Come what may, farming a commitment
a promise a guardian to their yacker* of God’s earth.

© Harry J Horsman 2021

*Yacker   Old Yorkshire for acre
Categories: unearths, farm,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Charmaine's Little Sweetie

Charmaine's so proud of her darling little sweetie
Her new avatar shows the reason why
What an adorable little sweetheart it's obvious to see
She's her momma's wee colourful butterfly

She flits between flowers revealing life's secrets
Discovering the new vistas before her
Exploring, seeking knowledge, and all life's truths
As each new discovery she unearths

This dear li'l sweetheart is momma's pride and joy
As proud as a momma could be
A treasure that is greater than all the world's riches
A blessed and enriching sweet dream

Charmaine's is so proud of her darling little sweetie
Her new avatar shows the reason why...


© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories: unearths, daughter, love,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Laborer's Shovel Journey

AN OLD SHOVEL Poetry Contest                       Sponsored by: John lawless
                                    Written: August 12, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Once an archaic shovel—worn and rusted,
Now reborn, its purpose adjusted.
Become the shovel, embrace its might,
Revel in its past—a tale to ignite

With calloused palms—strength untold,
The shovel bore deep, breaking through the mold.
Sweat dripped down—mingling with the earth,
As dreams of a fitter future gave birth.

Of arduous work and toil,
Of digging trenches and turning soil.
From dawn until dusk, it never wavered.
A faithful companion—never faltered.

Ponder its present—a relic of the past,
But it is still a tool—its purpose is vast.
Now resting against a weathered shed,
Its once sharp edge—now dull and dead.

The shovel, once a symbol of might,
Now waits patiently for its chance to ignite.
Bestowed by a child, curious and free,
The shovel becomes a treasure, a key.

To dig and explore, to uncover the unknown,
To create castles and kingdoms of their own.
The child marvels—at its worn-out charm,
As they dig deeper, their imagination warms.

They uncover hidden treasures, buried deep.
Imaginary worlds—where secrets—keep
The shovel, now a vessel for dreams,
Guiding the child through endless streams.

With each scoop of earth, a raw adventure awaits.
As the shovel unearths, the child's excitement escalates.
They discover fossils and ancient bones.
Unlocking mysteries—rewriting history's tone

The shovel journey continues, ever-evolving.
From laborers' hands to children's exploring.
It reminds us of the power within.
To shape the world, to uncover, and to begin.

Explore its meaning, the shovel essence,
A symbol of resilience and presence.
In its worn-out state, it still holds worth.
Teaching us lessons of resilience and rebirth.

From laborer—to child
The shovel journey—ever wild
So let us honor this humble tool,
A testament to the human spirit fuel.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: unearths, analogy, appreciation,
Form: Rhyme

The Prospector

The Prospector: 

He packs his tack in a great canvas sack 
And then drives away in his car.
Nobody cries as they wave their goodbyes; 
They will await his return from afar.
When he reaches the track he will find his way back
With his GPS tuned to a star. 

The stories are told how he travels the road 
With constant anticipation,
He ignores the snakes as he hammers in stakes, 
On the boundary of his location 
This man has gone bush, and he shows no rush 
To return to civilization.

This modern-gold seeker, with a stick and a beeper  
That creates echoes to his ears from the ground.
On his own, he unpacks his gear from his sacks,
He’s left family and friends in the town.
Now the bush replaces their loving embraces
With an encompassing sky and a peaceful surround.

The look on his face shows nary a trace
Of emotion as he unpacks his gear.
He sets up his camp, and primes his lamp, 
Lights fire, and watches a dingo draw near.
Staring into the embers, he starts to remember 
Other campsites like the one he has here.

He wakes in the morning, stretching and yawning
As he extracts his bones from the ground.
His muscles will strengthen as the days lengthen
While he walks the grid; listening to sounds.
Bright are his eyes, as he unearths the prize
His detector, signals it there to be found.

When his eyes behold the nugget of gold
As he digs in the earth for this prize
They sparkle and shine as he takes out his twine,
Knotted, for measurement of size. 
The tail of his shirt removes unwanted dirt
And hessian covers rock from prying eyes

As he looks to the ground; there is more to be found!
Shards that catch the bright setting sun. 
He puts some in a pot, then marks this fine spot,
So he can find it again when he’s done.
For the task of recording his find in the morning,
He must leave; he feels he should run.

From the past he has learned, he knows he’ll return
After the assayer sees what's in his sack.
There is quiet celebration, with this revelation
As he phones his partner to say she should pack.
They both go to sign on the dotted line,
Then together they travel the track back.

Wordancer
Categories: unearths, adventure, friendship, inspirational, nature,
Form: Rhyme


Eve Unearths Eden

Beyond is Jordan, past the great Red Sea,
a distance cov’ring awesome, frightful years.
Invisible her pathway heading home
while Eve awaits the target of her soul.
Through darksome deserts, wand'ring back again
she learns the whereabouts concerning God.

The Holy Spirit is her breath from God;
she praises Him for opening her sea,
for granting ears to hear Him once again.
He’s been her Shield throughout these many years
since Satan hurled his darts upon her soul.
With thanks to God, she’s on the road called home.

She’s found wherever God is, that is home
and stakes her trust in One eternal God.
Like Josh and Caleb, she’s a faithful soul
to celebrate as she outruns her sea.
Her kith and kin show doubt for countless years -
complaining, fearful, time and time again.

When greed and jealous spirits plague again,
she starts to question what she called her home.
Her feet have tread on alleyways for years.
The place prepared by her omniscient God
has boulevards of gold just past the sea
no sun is needed, Christ will light her soul.

No cause for censure, heaven fills her soul
down here on earth. She ponders once again
by trusting God to clear her way of sea
eternal life begins on her way home.
The Holy Spirit lives within as God
and fills her as His temple all her years.

She trusts Him for the distance and for years
and lives with hope down deep within her soul.
Christ is the link that joins her life to God,
creating in her heart the will to gain
sweet fellowship with Him who wants our home
to be with Him well past this earthly sea.

Through endless years here crossing o’er the sea
Eve bares her soul and finds the perfect home
Almighty God spread Eden's gates again.

November 18, 2014

Sponsor:  Unseeking Seeker
Contest:   Show Me God
Categories: unearths, allegory, future, heaven,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

The White Helmets of Aleppo

One man
Stands
Beneath his white helmet
And demands,

Silence.

Throughout Aleppo.

His stethoscope,
He attaches
To the dust
And listens
From his knees.

The man has
Ten fingers,
A dry brush
And a pair of pliers
To dig like an archeologist.

He does not have years,
But minutes
To search the ruins
For toes
That wiggle
Or mouths
That suckle
Or bleeding hearts
That still beat
Like tremors
In puddles of plaster.

When an apartment building
Of ten stories
Is bombed
By planes
Flown by strangers
And its hallways and closets
And bedrooms
And kitchens
And stairwells
Are pancaked
Into a single floor
Of wreckage
In seconds,

There can be tiny
Zigzagged
Crevices
With, but inches of space
And pockets of air
Left
Where
Former residents
May fill these places
With their slippery bodies
Poured like liquid
Into molds
That harden
While they wait

For a miraculous tap
From Above
Or Below
Or from the Sideways.

Sometimes,
The plaster and gravel
Molds
Blink
Back
With the brown eyes
Of a three year old

Or the trickle of blood
Can faintly be heard
Still flowing
Under
A mother’s skin
In
And through her veins.

To the rubble surgeon,
That is like seeing fireworks
Or hearing tubas,

So, he probes further.

Using his fingernails
Like scalpels,
He unearths
An elbow,
A shoulder,
A chest,
The belly,
Ankle bones

And then, the whole
Of the lightning-shaped body
Releases in one dusty swoop,
Scooped
Into both his hands
And raised above his head
As if on scales
And lifted to the emerald sky,
The weight of the world
Presented to the gods,
A broken body
And a scarred soul

But, yes,
Yes,
Pried
Alive
With the first cry of a second birth

From a saved person
Who’s
On
No one’s side

But for God's.
Categories: unearths, humanity, imagery, inspirational, political,
Form: Free verse

Expecting the Unexpected

One day so soon,it will be too late
to know ,you have changed your fate
you'll learn ,love,no more bonds us
trust has waned into,agitating fuss

my life,once,was so warm and bright
I lived happily,in elating delight
my nights were lit by full moons' light
my days,too, were shined by sunlight

now the Sun is gone for good
dark nights rule,my depressed mood
smile has kissed,my lips good-bye
faith in your love, lost,know why?

you pushed your luck too faraway
ignoring that truth,unearths someday
your words proven,to be all lies
what will be then,your lullabies
Categories: unearths, angst, life, lost love,
Form: Quatrain

Finding God

Truth is that God is alive.
This is seen throughout our lives.
The seasons change as Psalms contends.
Why do we question him?

We walk a treacherous road.
Veracity devout our souls,
As we ask for deliverance,
We must show
Our belief in Jehovah.
 
The truth is God is alive.
Our spirit and faith unearths.
Jehovah dynast is afire.
The Lord is our keeper on earth.

To find God is a quest
A task of fulfillment.
Why would you block your blessings?
_______________________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 06, 2014!
Categories: unearths, allah, america, blessing, inspiration,
Form: Rhyme

Redemption

Down glory lane lays an olive branch
Mercilessly pruned from old ranch
Gracefully swayed by a summer’s breeze
A memory seed beneath the ground
Romances soil when passionately ground
A subtle emergence of a new life
Unearths an everlasting sweet aroma
That emancipates souls from carnal ride
There is a wispy kiss to the whirl
As it mingles with heavenly will
Collaborating a symphony of gusty truth
As it wins souls with a commanding truce
Pure olives sprout from lonely souls
Outright healing from bleeding sores
Comes with a great celebration
For the rise of a new generation
There is no going back
For these, shall never lack
Categories: unearths, spiritual,
Form: Sonnet

Images

anthills to natural selection, the sexual drive of a violenne;

invasive, brutal, the testosterone chasing wet thighs,
the night sweats. Kleptomania rising; castration

or helium filled masks for assisting suicides were 
mutilating genes. Multiasking for eugenics ? Hate and revenge

hangs a body on the turret of a tank, a wrong
for wrong. A little crown, winged pollens scattered

on brittle areola, the milky way shying away from midnight
sun. The toppled vision in blindness of a tribe

unearths the skeletons of mass murders; the
fanatics changing the face value of truths.

Images do not leave the temples.



SATISH VERMA
Categories: unearths, art,
Form: ABC

Consequences

Consequences

“You will bear the consequences of your lewdness and your detestable practices, declares the LORD.” Ezek 16:58 NIV

When we fail to obey
We suffer the consequences
Initially feel nothings changed
Until to the surface comes the balances
There’s not anything we say or do
That doesn’t have consequences
Heaven records all that happens
Knows all our nuances.

Sin can be enjoyable
But for a season
The consequences set in
When with sin we bargain
God has His laws
That cover all nature
Every human being
And every living creature.

When we choose to walk 
Contrary to God’s mighty laws
We’ll always find consequences
To the surface comes flaws
But when we choose obedience
Choose to walk in God’s way
We find there is freedom
But the consequences don’t go away.

For the Consequences of obedience
Are wisdom and peace in our Lord.
Obedience God exchanges
For a great peace reward.
Forever must be our focus
Not the fleeting things of earth.
This life’s a poor exchange  
For the eternity God unearths.

Copyright © 2007-2012 Maureen LeFanue
www.maureenlefanue.com
Categories: unearths, faith, inspirational, god, peace,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Himalayan Monal

Imagine me the creature in broad daylight 
with green metallic crest
as I flaunt a copper plumage wild and free
whilst feathering my nest
native of the Himalayan range I scale
the sun drenched mountain peaks
the zoom and swoop spirit I encapsulate 
when skimming gold vein creaks

I dwell on red oak conifers or alpine 
meads bound by rock-strewn ware
pale blue eye patch forager whose curved bill dig
unearths a snow crust fare
coruscating migrant over altitudes
whose bone chill turf I fly
rooster among canopies I hatch my brood 
with poignant shrubland cry.


I am a Bird - Personification
Tania Kitchin   Sponsor 
Date submitted  26th July 2020
Categories: unearths, appreciation, art, beautiful, beauty,
Form: Personification

The Invisible Mount of Olives

The sound of grip dripping
From a blank embankment
Crowds a single finger
Under craggy terrain.

The embrace emits steam
The color of Jasper
The smell of Jasmine
Aimlessly floating for drift.

As the rust settles cliff side
Blame begins...
Judgement unearths the first stone.

A soiled hand and phalanges
Point at choice questioning sin
asking, "Who is without sin?"
Blame ceases to give a voice.

Meaning is pushed toward place
Silence chooses to change face
causing a shift of power
from the finger to the hand
and the Hand enfolds the noise
isolating blame from sin
and sin from free will and blame.

Blame becomes unique judgement
Sin become immediate
Free will chooses to have choice
And meaning eludes reason.

The Hand of God Touched Your Thought
Thought proves knowing right and wrong.

Some judge sin as a free will
because others are blinded
by the noise of choice and end.

Meaning drifts us inside us 
Can we be without sin?
Categories: unearths, inspirational,
Form: Free verse
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