Best Waltz Poems
"Black Ice"
Sorrow flows from the first sunrise
Eyes deeper than winter and rainfall
A painful combination never felt before
At core death awaits
- laughing while she begs for clemency!
In her eyes, fault is found in every sunset
- after coming down from cloud nine.
Impossible to move --- her body stiffen
That very moment, a precious Waltz - Expires!
Coldplay and winter mist set in
Ruins of love clinch an endless echo
- taunting the very merry memory.
The auditory sensation of broken trust
- stride across the way.
Icing every thought in a sullen, cold rink.
She fell - She crumbled
- In a world where hope once existed
Today, she will sway alone without a lullaby
In a room with no warmth
One time a sweet symphony, now a sour moon
At last, a different tune begins to fiddle
As she grooms the icicles in her room.
On every mid-moon, she stares and stares
towards the old shriveled lipstick on his pillow
Unseen coldness, unsatisfied, incomplete tears
She can feel the complete braille of hate
--- cascade around the emptiness
Throughout her poise frostbite travels in
Midnight Summer dreams are near an end
Autumn bones covered by winter sleet
A deadly force condemns all because of one
Lost years crumbled like an avalanche
Way deep down inside.......
She paints the rain like no other heartache
Leaving winter residue behind every step
"Black Ice" sits close to the cold canvas on her pale
If you seek closely, she is there
Immobilized in a waltz, in a waltz, in a waltz
Never to linger or trust
The "HE" that spoke of love, then melted away
~*~
Undulate on burbling rivers rushing to meet sea,
Buoying spring’s hilarity, ceding to summer’s plea;
Marvel on wings of autumn as falling colors spree,
Rejoice pristine snowflakes adulating winter’s glee;
Waltz with every season strumming life’s themes,
On mountains, in valleys, on prairies, or streams,
Waxing or waning, dreaming beauteous dreams.
Sail on crest of tides where summer ebbs and flows,
Guide autumn’s journey thrilling season of snows,
Whether lauding sunshine or twilight in shadows,
Whether in blazing colors or woes of wintry throes;
Waltz with every season strumming life’s themes,
On mountains, in valleys, on prairies, or streams,
Waxing or waning, dreaming beauteous dreams.
Despair not in shudder of shivering naked trees,
For autumn decaying in clasp of wintry freeze,
Sows the seeds sprouting exuberance of spring,
Where, serenading renewal, doting robins sing;
Waltz with every season strumming life’s themes,
On mountains, in valleys, on prairies, or streams,
Waxing or waning, dreaming beauteous dreams.
Alas! soon blossoms wilt, autumn’s revelry ends,
And unseen remains future where tomorrow bends,
So, grab your today and let its winter day-dream
In the seasons of youth, fond memories redeem.
Waltz with every season strumming life’s themes,
On mountains, in valleys, on prairies, or streams,
Waxing or waning, dreaming beauteous dreams.
July 13, 2022
The Time Between the Seasons Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
When twilight sighs blushing cobalt skies
And evening dons purple on sienna brown
As rainbow colors sprout blazing horizon
And scarlet winds echo intimate bird-songs
Beckoning sensuality of two loving hearts;
Meet me my love, doting illuminant stars--
Let passions waltz in music of romance.
When night adorns constellations above
And moonlit desires glisten your aura
Arousing titillation of your sensuous eyes
Hold me in bliss of your hypnotic trance
As you come closer invoking Shangri-la;
Greet me my love, seducing my response--
Let passions waltz in music of romance.
As fantasies blossom in odyssey of dreams
Seeking sanctuary in paradise of ecstasy,
Courting our story in flirtatious melodies
When you strum beats of fervid symphony
Enunciating words to lyrics of our revelry;
Kiss me my love, crooning tunes of its ballad--
Let passions waltz in music of romance.
Satiated now, snuggling bosom of dawn
Gladly we rejoice its affectionate applause
Pleading longingly for these feelings to last
Igniting their flame for one more glance
As we woo fervor of enchanting euphoria;
Cuddle with me my love, answering its call--
Let passions waltz in music of romance.
June 28, 2020
Poem of the day on June 30, 2020
Placed 1st: Sensuality poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
She slants her shining, golden glance
Across desert, mountains, rivers, plants
Greets her rising, true romance
In the purpling, opposite skies
Her lunar love, her heart’s delight
Soars to ever darker height
For each, the other’s perfect, right
It’s on their wings time flies
She seems asleep within the night
Yet always, somewhere, she’s brilliant, bright
Motionless in constant flight
Each day its own surprise
They’ll never meet – there’s not a chance
These partners in eternal dance
Of darkness, light – they both enhance
The world with their long goodbyes
***
As their crescent waltz achieves crescendo
Sans artifice or innuendo
Young children start to play Nintendo
While adults stir and rise
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.
WALTZ OF THE FLOWERS
two
music
and dancers
blend equally
together toeing
whirling magically
at the very feet of soul
tschaikowsky’s ballet nutcracker
manages to touch both young and old
never was there a finer waltz composed
corps de ballet’s women all dressed in white
music of the waltz bright with color
red, green, gold and silver dominate
those sweeping, sweet violins
oboes add a gray touch
and the gold of brass
gives such grandeur
transported
the word
grace
Dave Austin
Soft
songs in
tunes
know of
Christ child's love
in praise
that
pure dear
notes were sung,
as Kings bend low
with gifts of
gold and
oils
to bless
God's sweet son.
Christmas,
we
share His
love.
Dec. 21, 2015
Waves
crashing;
then
breaking
on the beach.
Ebbing
and
flowing
tides controlled
by moon and earth.
Twice a day
high tides
and
low tides;
dancing waves
enchant
for
ever
more
Kim Merryman – Shall We Waltz Contest
06~11~15
a celestial dancer,
through the veil of existence,
paints the cosmos with hues unseen
illuminating constellations
auroras bow,
the moon dances to dawn’s blush,
twilight casting shadows upon the land
where miracles bloom.
Enchantress watch,
the universe bends to your will.
whirling rose petals
as they move to dream music
sunflower acclaim
dips in dahlias
orange yellow cream and red
spins past snapdragons
four o'clock fragrance
and flourishes near fuchsias
forget-me-not fame
It sounds like laughter, the wind,
Softly rustling leaves, prayers
Fading silence, busy rush
Gusts of light, dancing
I was born, Bronx, New York, in the year 'Thirty-Nine',
the first child with a brother who followed in time.
Ten years later, moved North, Hudson Valley, same State
where I've settled, lived on with my loved ones to date.
But when young, in my school, two fine talents emerged,
and my teachers spared hours to encourage my urge.
I enjoyed my young years while I painted and penned;
lots of canvas and paper used up without end.
At eighteen, I then married the love of my life
and enjoyed my new path of becoming a wife
to my US Marine, very handsome and true;
Parris Island, our home for a year, almost two.
By the age twenty-five- was a mother of three;
a fine son, two sweet girls, a complete family.
We worked hard every day and our life was so good.
I wrote poems and painted whenever I could.
Later, painting with oils was the pastime for me-
while I studied for years at an art gallery.
Varied art shows, displays, and a job filled my time.
Soon I sold many pieces and life was sublime.
Yet, the years went by fast and at age thirty-nine,
I enrolled in a college to study part-time.
Six years later, I earned my prized English degree-
a BA—and a Minor in Business for me.
Then my pictures with words replaced those done with art,
and I soon published poems of life and of heart.
Yet along in this time of my great writing spree
I worked hard every day as our business VP.
For a full twenty years, we worked hard faithfully
after hubby retired as the Chief of FD,
selling our fire equipment, all types, big and small
to FDs, factories, district schools, and the malls.
Our dear children all married, with families too,
are involved happily in whatever they do.
Happy grandma of five- twenty-five to eighteen-
and one granddaughter married two thousand thirteen.
We retired, sold our business thirteen years ago,
still so busy with life, with its ebb and its flow.
We are proud and so blessed and thank God up above,
for our days and our life of good times filled with love.
April 11, 2015
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Where Are You From
Sponsor: Joseph Soper
Judged: 08/01/2017
~2nd Place~
Contest: Bio of a Poet
Sponsor: Tammy Reams
Judged: 04/18/2015
Form: Anapestic Tetrameter (12 syllables, 4 feet per line)
La dernière valse
From the skies
Clouds fall upon my dreams
I am up high, away from it all
I am far, but my tears still fall
I stand up and shout to Paris ( Pareee)
You left me, you left me here to fend alone
I can not danse, nor can I waltz
I am here, overlooking skylines of desire
Graveyards calling out my name
The clouds in the sky grey and dancing
The tour Eiffel stands up high
The symbol of all that makes me cry
I can not dance, nor can I waltz
Alizee Alizee go go go
Arête, arête my love simply won’t flow
Abelard died, and so must I
Lovers of love, wine runs dry
Poets and words, vices and crimes
Lovers of the majestic and the absurd
I was pushed over the ledge
In Versailles they left for me dead
Grandiose mirrors and artistic displays
I can not dance, nor can I waltz
So in the castle I will be slayed
By the demons of lovers
From the past, they do say
She left me here
On the left bank of the seine
So here I shall drown totally insane
Notes: I have on purpose used french spelling for some words in the poem.
Mary Jane aka ganja, grass, marijuana and a host of other names.
Serenity is yours to gain
being led in dance to fairyland
swing waltz with Mary Jane
Sapped by undue stress and strain
tango’s for two yet ‘lone you stand
serenity is yours to gain
When music sounds an odd refrain
discordant noise in every strand
swing waltz with Mary Jane
One-step, two-step to higher plane
wild rumba to a one-man band
serenity is yours to gain
Cha-cha and spruce your addled brain
Skunk, Lebanese, most every brand
swing waltz with Mary Jane
When life is sucked dry vein-by-vein
reborn yourself with spliff in hand
serenity is yours to gain
swing waltz with Mary Jane
***********************************
A SPECIAL VILLANELLE TO ALL GANJA-GUZZLING OL' GEEZERS
"Shall
we waltz?
Could
we waltz?
Would you waltz
with me?
Could
you dance,
would you dance
far across the
shining sea?
Will you fly
by my
side?
We'll kiss
a sad world
goodbye.
Come
sing with
me."
{Waltz Wave. Written June 14, 2015.}