Best Vestal Poems
Let me paint you like a summer’s day,
Upon luscious landscapes where lovers play…
With oils of Celestial Blue and Carmine Red,
Cherry Blossom Pink with a Saffron spread.
Brushing spectrums of the radiant rainbows,
With Lava lips against the maternal meadows…
Caressing with colors amidst the curative canvas,
Sculpting your smile from a vestal vastness.
Let me paint you like the magnanimous moon,
Within Twilight realms where lovers cocoon…
Where the heavens display their starry nights,
Amongst lovers dreams with great delights.
Let me paint you under a Spanish Sky Blue,
With a dash of Spring Green in the misty dew…
As the frolicking flowers dance to the sun,
My portrait of love in a floral spiraling spun.
Written & produced by... Winged Warrior
Music by...Bach-'C major prelude'
Voice...Male virtual voice
...please wait 33 seconds before the poem is recited
...the poem will also be repeated in the video production
...thank you for viewing and enjoy the rest of the music
May.13.2019
Winged Warrior...^WW^
Not for any contest
Thank you, everyone, for the lovely comments...and for making this video poem, POTD...'mucho gracias'...^WW^
When I look on my life that's now half-spent,
I sigh the loss of youth that's forever past,
wishing myself better Fortune's consent,
love, friends, and wealth with naught to lose or waste,
but for the mean expense of young love lost;
despising this, I oft' bemoan the loss
of vestal company's first time the most;
for matrons offend like mouldering moss,
which, like Time's sure, inexorable march,
destroys the juvenescence of life's spring
year by year till extinguishing Youth's torch,
a dead flame for which I am most desiring.
If I could live and love anew once more,
I'd not err this time: and lay a rude whore.
Boundless Ripples
Refulgent ripples by nourishing night
Waves of love by magnanimous moonlight
My soul sending signals to you in flight
Never reaching the end thru waters white
Within the pond of love releasing ripple effect
I breathe your breath as the waters reconnect
Boundless and soundless they forever reflect
Vestal vibrations of visions in loves resurrect
Thru endless time and wandering waters gold
Ripples that touch your heart and withhold
Before they turn to tears and undyingly unfold
Our bonding love that has broken the mold
Heavenly tides in realms of tendering twilight
Ripples of the Nile we journey in partible plight
Thru the Valley of the Kings a sculpturesque sight
Ripples of eternity enduring, as lovers flames ignite.
Aug.27.2017
Ripples In The Water
Sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron
Art splashed upon naked walls
spilling life where water falls
dams shall break, setting free
a part of you, a part of me
Blues and reds and yellows blend
painting stories that'll never end
clouded magic becoming clear
inhibitions lain, drawing near
Blushed the light, furtive peeks
gentle strokes grace her cheeks
in vestal hands the palate pleads
crimson tincts that touch up needs
colored moments bleeding through
it's a part of me, it's a part of you
In four days from today
I wish you well as you go, and you shall walk again
Through the shadow of the day
Where memory forever my spirit keep in chain
And you shall inhale once more
Jasmines naked and dancing to the silver moon
Or hear whispering for sure
The tides that salt us that unwrinkled June
And I shall be far away
Praying as I always pray, waiting your return
To mend broken gaps of day
While among the yellow leaves I walk and yearn
Do not forget me, dearest
Do not with moon or river wander far away
But on pillow of your breast
Give me my rest, give me my hope to play
For bird songs there I know rise
Like angels vestal choir, or sirens seductive song
May bring the heart new surprise
Against all witchery there, keep your love strong
Walk by lignum vitae bloom
Cradle the blue mountain misty morning shape
Tremble at its thunder boom
And toss your cares across the bright sunlit landscape
There is healing in that place
A certain balm, and invigorating freedom there
An edible sense of grace
So delicious to those who walk with feet bare
Like children before the change
And yet for all the beauty and the music I keep
Another memory strange
The place where in my arms a princess fell asleep
The place where your kiss became
The elixir for which kings and heroes search and died
Where first the stag was made tame
No other beauty there may so my joy provide.
I love you silently in every night,
I love you fiercely through the fires red,
I love you brightly with my heart alight
I love you bravely on the roads ahead.
I love your morning eyes of blur and sleep,
I love your stubborn dance when we contend,
I love your trust when you in front me weep,
I love your will to make myself amend.
I love our walks and smiles in nature's streets,
I love our fights when none of us is mad,
I love our vestal games wrapped in white sheets,
I love our ease when one of us is sad,
I love our jokes, I love our downs and tops,
I love when time is ours and for us stops.
Ljubljana, 28.3.2016
Jade scythes
of areca fronds
slice slate air;
Medusa's snakes writhe.
Pewter arrows pierce
my garden.
I sit beneath an eave
pondering
the nascent storm.
Geraniums cloister
like vestal butterflies
in darkening loam
as a multitude
of emerald tufts
bend on the fleeing lawn.
5/12/18
Who is or was Eleanor Rigby ?
Jerry T Curtis
Poetry Contest
27 August 2019
Eleanor Rigby
Lost her 1st Born Son and Husband
To World War 2
She then dedicated her life to the Church
Overcome by grief and loss
She became a Nun
To seek solace and relief
She searched for her answers in God
And placed her faith in religion
Lives in a dream
Masking a face of bereavement
Like all the other lonely people
Picking up rice pretending to smile
in a face she keeps inside a
message in an old milk bottle
that reminds her of Maternal weaning
Destined to die alone
Until Father Lennon McCartney eventually reads her obituary
At her funeral in Strawberry Field's
where no 1 will come
Back to the dirt from whence she came
To rejoin her family again
Rejoicing
War is Over
God's Vestal Angel
Eleanor is Saved
In song we remember
Eleanor Liver Beatle
You'll Never Walk Alone
Written: May 29, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Brian Strand
2nd place contest winner
***********************
Renaissance style of Botticelli’s Flora and the Zephyr painting?
I weave my garland, fragrant, fair,
around your lissom, radiant frame;
my whisper joins your answering air,
a hymeneal wind, aflame.
I wrap you in the zephyr’s breath,
that stirs your bewitching grace;
my swelling tide, your supple depth,
rise radiantly, leaving no trace.
You swell with gratitude and song,
to my opulent lullaby;
your crimson vestal, festal strong,
my flowered liberty.
The bloom I lift, it quivers light,
its pulse a tremor, soft and shy;
silken whispers surrender bright,
to spring’s eternal sigh.
Enchanted echoes link and flow,
no gate in holy clasp withstood;
from the seeds of vow florets grow,
never deny your silken hood.
Your splendor sparkles, Flora, bold,
our forces paired in flame;
woven warmth the west wind holds,
and breathes your blooming name.
Coupling offers both spring and wind,
Profoundly linked, empathetic, and divine.
Fates forge ties with the affluent and kind,
Flora and Zephyr an intertwined sign.
My people walk upon the Earth gently,
respectful of those who walked before
whose atoms mingle in the stardust
sprinkled from shore to shining shore.
My people hold Her sacred,
and cling to a long chanted prayer
that all who walk upon Her face
will find sacred teachings there.
My people feel Her spiraling rhythms
And Ghost Dance to Her holy hum.
We touch Her face ever gently
With unquelched tears of countless sum.
She bows her noble, gray head to acknowledge
The many who have been lost,
and none can count the blessings wasted
of their lives forever and savagely tossed.
But, She no longer sings of murder.
She longs for quiet and peaceful fires.
Her green and blossoming outstretched arms
Strong now, promise hopeful and lovely spirals.
It is upward from her dust that we must look for peace
And open our heart past hate and vengence.
Now is our time to dance and welcome back
The sacred Mother of splendid vestal vestige.
A NUN’S PRAYER
To the Lord Almighty and as a colored Nun, I am a vestal of his governess and obedient to that form.
I walk in a sisterhood of solidarity.
I am a new religious order via The School of Social Theology.
I refuted poor mindedness for a rightful mind.
I vowed to conformity of Lord of high.
In my weakness, I do not falter domestically.
In my strength, I am subservient.
I will make a difference through my duties and tasks.
As a soul, I owe the Lord all Almighty that.
My essence is my spirit and wit.
I am satisfied with the life I live.
Amen
Silver floats the moon and boughs slender sway,
fleeing on her trembling breath
her light feet braves.
Rising of the lea in the dappled grey,
As she wore her verdant robes,
on her vestal form in surging waves.
He shielded her beauty in his embrace..
Her golden showers 'tween their stillness clasp,
as she lay glistening in his sighing grasp.
Stars shine in sheaves amid the elven shades,
that linger upon her fair brow,
hemmed with crystal strings and golden flakes.
His bride to be ne'er,
nymph of forest glades;
heard afar, beyond the hills,
her lone whisperings,
his yearning heart is left on her braided wings.
His love sweet fragrance with each breath endowed,
to wreathe the laurel with his words avowed.
Inside her heart she felt, his eyes' commands,
beneath the curling hair in misty wake,
that floated rough, untied about those lands,
his breezy handsomeness enhanced, and ache.
And she accepted him, at dawning break,
upon her nape then felt, the greening sea,
his vows proclaimed and triumphant heart's spree.
3rd Stanza in Rime Royal
©3/01/2014.Giorgio Veneto,Gautami Phookan.All rights reserved
Silence is something you can step on
like dead weeds on a sunken grave....
like ancient worn paths to nowhere in particular,
except to forgotten places you've already been to.
I'm a battered button freak
in a world without goose steps.
Let us sacrifice our clothes
to appease the screaming ghosts of the Final Solution.
When you're naked everything tastes better,
the clocks tick louder,
a multitude of whispering voices sound gentler
and the raging rivers of the land flow farther.
Night time is the right time to be naked.
When the dogs of war are snoring
When the day's checker games have ceased
When the throbbing vestal virgins beg for it.
Being beaten is best when naked.
One can show off the welts and feel exhilarated.
One can feel close to God
and the cool moist dirt around you.
One can know what it is like to be digested by a spider.
One can bleed and cry
and plead for mercy to deaf ears.
Coraggio! Coraggio!
Basta! Basta!
I recently lost my dear sister,
She's now found a brand new home.
No darkness of sin or pain enters in,
With our loved ones, she's joined round Gods throne.
Where Jesus, the light, makes heaven so bright,
She'll live for eternity,
And when I'm called home, we'll join round Gods throne,
Where together we'll always be.
Oh! What joy she's having in heaven,
Hearing Vestal, Howard, and Glen.
Why, there's Jake and George.
Oh, what a noise!
As they're sing a brand new hymn.
With James, Rex, J.D.,and others she loves,
As Anthony plays on a new baby grand,
She's in heaven, just being in heaven,
For,their music goes on with no end.
There'll be no darkness in heaven,
For Jesus is the light,
As each soul joins with him,
The worlds darkness grows dim,
As the view up ahead shines so bright.
When we're welcomed up there
There'll be no compare,
To the beauty of heavens array.
As I walk on this path, toward Jesus, at last,
I know I'll see her again some sweet day.
Oh have you ever seen old green Scottish heights?
The hills and Marilyns echo William's rights,
Loch's water is still and calm as monks of yore,
When it seeps through hillsides in its tranquil rites.
And that my dear is you and your aspects fair.
The newborn grass of Argyll is vestal floor,
Unspoiled, pristine when it cherish Scottish shore,
And then there are castles, rooks and roman wall,
That on vestal floor are built and background bore.
And that my dear is you and your flaxen hair.
You are unique for you coalesce it all,
Your looks are prudent, your eyes are off the doll,
Your manners of daytime vanish for our nights,
Though a zephyr fresh you do not gently sprawl,
And that my dear is Scotland and it's fresh air.