Best Warmth Poems


Premium Member Illuminations of Wonder and Warmth

from the sky’s black velvet cloak
points of light emanate 
drawing the wonder of all who see

but are these sequin stars
or tears in the fabric of heaven
from which our lost loved ones look down
smiling to let us know they are happy

one special star
reveals a most welcome sight –
the face of my husband

after all these years,
John remains ever loving 
ever watching over me

view the night sky
are we seeing distant, fiery orbs of light
or do our hearts see something else

fear of the afterlife is replaced by warmth
a desire to be among 
illuminated faces… 
those whose journeys have ended




Written March 21, 2020

Premium Member True Warmth

Please don't mistake a smile for warmth, it's not
   Behind the surgeon's smile sure lurks a knife
That pal at work you hang out with a lot
   Will cut your heart out, ruin your very life

When young, we think we have a million friends
   We laugh, we play, we think that life is great
Though really they pursue their selfish ends
   So easy for their love to turn to hate  

True warmth won't turn you out in winter's cold
   It cooks a hearty meal for you at night
It also will take care of you when old
   It sympathizes with your every plight

Look past that smile, my friend, and see the heart
   ~ The best advice to you I can impart



            Iambic Pentameter

Warmth

Sun
kiss me
your sweet rays
let your warm breath
touched upon my face 
bathe me with your radiance
and witness as a smile blooms
from my eyes that glow in surprise
to my full lips longing to be sealed
by an endearing and passionate kiss!


Premium Member Flower of Morning

pink marigold sun
in my corner of the sky
awaking vision

plum sky's buttercup 
at the sugar frosted pane
day's heartbeat speeds up

daffodil diamond
flower of pearl-orange dreams 
glittering and stunned

a black-eyed susan
chasing the remnants of night
warmth revolution

Sunset Reveries

as swans slide across lakes - sunset rays sway to autumnal reveries

ambling across swirling helix - of deadened cinnamon foliage 

mocking greenery framing skeletal bones - of lifeless roots crackling 

the warmth of your deep saffron gold aura - harvests the depth of our love

eclipsing rippling mistrals - simmering amidst auburn horizons

Premium Member Hues of Heartfelt

Where dreams sit, in the moments just before a smile – in the hesitance just before a word – in the memory who holds so much light,… there are the hues of heartfelt. ~ quote by poet


Music fades beyond the stars, sky lit softly,
In wonders so inviting, nights alive,
With joy as I appreciate the melodies,
Forgiving murmurs of kindled laughter, gentling
Even the most hesitant breathes of doubtful,
Timid, shy like the leaves who waltz,
Quietly through October’s frosts, the song
Wise and warm, tumbling from the wise old sun.

Burning quietly at the edge of the forest,
Shadows clinging to the secrets of rays revealing,
All the grace that comes to those who feel…
Blessings of hearts, blessings who always influence,
Trembling on moments when prayers wane,
Erasing the summer, finishing the season of warmth,
Stirring the promises of a silence who believes,
Yes, the spirit can surely see the forest for the trees,
Even the darkness who calms the moon –
Knows of the beauty found in those who know,
The answer pours from the heart’s hues,
Hues of heartfelt in breathless tunes, 
Generous as birdsong, with a splendid flair…

Music fades below the surface of the seas,
Waves caressing each moment, as the eternal
Mysteries – beckon to the soul who remembers,
Forever comes quietly, always honest,
Forever attractive – like the rainbow on the horizon,
After rain that lasted a while,
After the grateful soul, inspired by love,
Grows kindness in the form of music,
Kindness that rises, like a mist on the hills,
Raising the intensity of the heart’s kiss,
The soul can never resist…
These hues of heartfelt encouragement,
The muse in a heart who calls worthiness…
Listening, hearing, assuring – all the love
From souls who bring hope to the loneliest spirits,
Love that sings… lighting the wildest dreams.


Premium Member Yuletide Fire

behind the logs on this crackling fire
the dulcet sound of a distant choir

wakes up the child and times in me 
like lights around a Christmas tree

and takes me back when sixties' chills
left ice inside our window sills

when Jesus lay behind the door 
of advent's number twenty four

when the greatest present that I had
was the presence of both mum and dad

when love and laughter fun and games
lit up the room just like these flames

that dance each year to times gone by
before they flicker, fade and die.

Warmth of the Sun

Folded between the blankets
of Winter's clouds I found,
The glowing warmth of the sun
peaking effortlessly without sound.

I was thankful for the blessing of it
being so lovingly entered in,
Making the day a wonderful way for
it to begin.

Such colorful rainbow delights lit up
and canvased my dreams,
Leaving me feeling its powerful touch
through its beams.

His Warmth

I thank you always sun and moon, but is his warmth that makes me move
My hands stay lingered in his palm, and trace the lines to write a song
His eyes they whisper: you still do know, of how my love will always grow
And with four lips they form hello, for goodbye they'll never know
My hands stay lingered in his palm, and trace the lines to write a song;
For each line has read, " hold on " that's why fingers clench so strong
And with four lips they form hello, for goodbye they'll never know
I love you more than can be known, and hopefully we'll find that's shown
For each line has read," hold on " that's why fingers clench so strong
His eyes they whisper: you still do know, of how my love will always grow
I love you more than can be known, and hopefully we'll find that's shown
I thank you always sun and moon, but it's his warmth that makes me move...

Premium Member Angelic Choir

What wonderful warmth
Weaves through my bones 
Some mystic music
With healing tones

A summer waft 
A sunshine snuggle
A hug so deep
Erasing trouble

If only I could  bottle this 
To keep it fresh 
This cleansing balm
This wonderous mesh..

Connecting souls
Correcting ills
Blessing so full
It overspills

The world needs more -
This love strewn hit
To cure pandemic
Deficit 

Yet here I rest 
Tired eyes closed tight 
While restful thoughts 
Redeem the blight

A harvest
Doth my soul peruse
An ancient truth
Stills daily news

Join me, do
If you so desire
To find your heart's 
Angelic choir

A harmony
That lives within
To quell the worldly 
Heartless din

Peaceful corner
Comfy chair 
Your favourite spot
I'll meet you there
© Sam Scott  Create an image from this poem.

A Fire For Warmth

A few hot-orange embers burn low in the fire pit.
Morning has sprung, evident only
In the vague concrete illumination
	of an overcast sky.
Scattered twigs and last night's remaining logs
Are tossed upon the coals,
With a few shivering breathes of dank 
October air to give life to flames.
Frost has not yet bitten the landscape;
But the huddled mass of human
	leans in, over the kindled fire
For all of its warmth.
The Night's drizzled humidity hiss-boils
and streams from the wood grain of a saturated log,
As the twigs roast and burn.
The starving artist stands firm
In the path of smoke, visible clues
To the heats current passage.
One could inadvertently burn
	on the simplest furnace,
Steam rising from sweatshirt and pant leg,
And the moist palm of the hand.

Love, or so it seemed to the dreamer by his fire,
Is like this. A kiss of life
Given openly to the heart's flame,
Fanning the hot embers of friendship and affection.
Once stoked, a glance of chance
	Or a lover's touch
Warms the body and sacred soul
Against the icy depravity of an outside world.
And though the cold is most apparent 
In the smokey moisture of one's own breath
Hanging in the still air away from the hearth,
The sweet melting passion is best experienced
	and not explained or seen.

If the world were any colder
The October sky would crack and precipitate,
	splintered and crystallized, 
To wipe the canvas clear below
And give substance to a feeling of betrayal
That keeps the lover embracing a modest fire,
Whose warmth forsakes all else.
A dented tin coffee pot percolates
Sustenance into the day's beginning.
Outside the ring of charred-crackling logs,
The world rises up with the gyre of smoke
And is lost to the stone gray sky.
But the fire burns on,
	And the hungry heart lays nourished
	Within a dreamer's chest.

Premium Member In Spring's Warmth

in spring's warmth

nearby a drifting stream. . .

my thoughts ripple

Warmth of Breeze

Imagine me as a book covered with dust,
A soul whose warmth for years remained untouched

Letters on every page were ill-defined, unclear
The essence was hidden in an ambiguous fear

Uninterested I was in the societal rigmarole,
Me and my outer self were at opposite poles

Quite hesitant I was to turn to the next page
As I knew it would amount only to stormy rage
Quite concerned I was for my future pages and me,
The so-called bright world appeared shadowy

And in this dusky weather, suddenly the air felt unusual
This didn’t happen in years, the matter truly seemed crucial

I bizarrely felt the warmth of cool welcoming zephyr
My pages drifted, smiled and glinted like a pearl

My dull existence got transfigured into a life full-of-beans
Personified I was into a woman of worth, a woman of means

And now after owning this bag full of happiness,
I started reading the letters carved on me,

This time they were decipherable and defined,
They managed to unite me, my heart and my mind.

I looked around, in quest of the soul who revived me
Who passed by me and set my tangled soul free

Seeing him was out of question, quite hazy he appeared to me,
I could only fantasize him as a cozy breeze over the sea

Now, this breeze could be felt only when you are around me
You…  only you and nothing beyond
You…  the only one to make my passion profound
You… in your absence too you could be felt around
You … the only one in whom I am found!

The Beautiful Poet

The Beautiful Poet

The beautiful poet sat down one day,
writing her wows away.
She wrote down so many things and
turned it into the most beautiful thing.
A beautiful poem for us to read,
It really was the most amazing thing.

The beautiful poet, let her feelings flow and
made her words glow.
Her feelings ran through every line she wrote,
which made you weep a tear or two.

The poets, work was the most beautiful thing,
with every word you could hear,
the poets heart a fluttering,
with every line, which came straight from her heart.

The beautiful poet just made her work glow,
with every feeling, that she could ever write.
Pouring out and turning a word or two,
Into a beautiful poem for you.

Softness and Warmth

softer then cotton
warm as a hot cup of tea
cat purrs beside me

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