Best Wavered Poems


Premium Member Heavens' Doorway

One day there was an accident, and to heavens gate I was called.
As an angel sat down beside me, upon the bed I had been put upon.
Such a shining warmth ensued as it held me in its thrall.
A thought from God proclaimed, “What with your life have you done?”
Then all of life fled past me, but not as I did expect to see it done.
For all I saw and felt were things I hadn’t known I had done, and yet…
So much pain inflicted to each, with such little words and thoughts.
I never would have known such power, by one person, could be wrought.
I bowed my head in shame at the pain I knew I could not undo, yet…
Suddenly, I found myself forgiven. Yes, TRULY it was true!
Hallelujah became my amazed and impassioned cry before him, that night!
His warmth had never wavered, nor even his illustrious, wonderful light.
How could he forgive me, someone as wretched and lowly as I?
And yet, he did… and so he changed my life from then on out. 
But low and behold he wasn’t yet done with me, or so my story goes…
He sent me back to my home again… it in comparison brought me low.
But he said my work lay uncompleted, so now I must go back…
He said to stay clean and I would blossom… What do you think of that?
A veil he placed upon my eyes to remove me from the knowledge of all I’d known.
Then he sent me from his side, where I could not see him but knew he was.
Now, here I stand before you, a totally changed and humbled one.
Still, I have found I have sinned again… I know he must have known.
Perhaps some day, as I patiently wait… I’ll be allowed once more within his gate.
Only time will tell, as again I’ll feel every ones pain…
All I can say is: God Forgive Me… as I continue to wait…

(This Near Death experience really happened and changed my life.)
Written 5-25-12 By Carol Eastman
Categories: wavered, death, faith, god, life,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member I Will Wait For You

When you vowed your love, like a fairy, forever,
And fluttered about, like, possessed by new heaven,
I rolled my loneliness like a quilt in cover.
And got fermented by you like flour by leaven...

Your smile was as though the constellation twinkling,
For your love, I thought, I will take many a birth,
Your gestures went beyond all poetic jingling;
To make you immortal I'd kill the very death...

Why darling, soon, your bejeweled image got changed?
Where had your smile-beams found their hidden hiding place?
Your milky mind like an ocean of poison churned!
Slowly, forever, gloom shadowed your lovely face!

Does the sea, yet, stop the wavered wave coming home?
I'll wait for you, though you love, like a swift, long roam.


10 August 2021
Categories: wavered, life, longing, love,
Form: Sonnet

I Wander About

I wander about
like a fish out of water
in the surf blue sea

Me a traveler
in the congress of gray rocks
where carcajous howl

A vacant lot mind
wavered in the breeze empty
land soul never rests

Heart sighs seeks haven
warm breasts of the beloved
in my country home

I see the river
boatmen singing love ballad
flows out of water











Out of Water - Poetry Contest
Sponsor	Sheri Fresonke Harper
Categories: wavered, sad,
Form: Haiku

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Lost In My Head

I wandered lost on this road we call life . . .

It all started when I was a small girl,
watching in slow motion the accidental death of my sister;
that day, I became hidden and lost in my head,
     confused, dazed, muddled and puzzled, I was lost and astray.
     I just stopped talking, I was doomed, 
     in my silent existence nothing was sure;
     my confidence wavered and I questioned God,
                                         but my imagination soared .
        My parents were baffled,
          they tried to get me help;
one day, in my imagined world I thought I could fly,
so I climbed out my window and tried, falling, falling.
My dad heard me screaming and ran to catch me,
                                          I lay befuddled in his arms;
        "Daddy, what happened?" His tears rained down,
          yet, I was still lost in my head.
I grew up a silent girl, often distant and perplexed,
always entangled in a world of fantasy where all was safe;
and before you think me totally lost-   it was the beginning,
                                          and birth of this writer . . . 

____________________
September 30, 2017


Poetry/Narrative/Lost In My Head
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9458-22-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written Under Pseudonym.


Submitted to the contest, Another 2017 Stunner
sponsor, Line Gauthier

First Place


_____________________
Entered in the contest Lost, Debbie Guzzi
NA - Judged 10/24/17
Categories: wavered, lost,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The Morning

The morning broke pragmatically
As the warmth kissed the dew goodbye.
And the thunder clouds who haunted nigh
Had fled and left an open sky.
Where an aged thrasher voiced a song of love
That rained down from up on high.

The towered trees would cast their shade
As the Sun rose to melt the day.
And a breath of coolness came over me
To lead my soul astray.
And marvel at the many twigs and leaves
Still left from fall's decay.

A beguiling tiger lily lay at my feet
To mark its space from meddling spores.
And claim a right to live its life
As the victor of a callous Nature's wars.
But it brought me peace knowing of its bloom
Just like the day before.

A coppice wall stretched beyond the light
To give sense and realm to my domain.
And it served me well on weathered days
When subjected to a dreary sleeted rain.
But this pleasant morning would have none of that
So I had few reasons to complain.

A Man wavered at his assigned post
With a gaunt and haunting stare.
And mumbled tearfully as children do
Some long forgotten prayer.
But as to who and what the message was...
I was keenly well aware.

And the day wore on till night's first creep
With the laws of Nature well behaved.
But the thrasher still flew and spun its tune
Of a life so grand and brave.
And I took great comfort from its song of joy
As I lay peacefully in my grave.

                     The End
Categories: wavered, freedom, happiness, introspection,
Form: Rhyme

Death Comes To An Old Man

An old man, worn and wearied by the toils of life, 
stood alone in a darkened hallway, 
each wall hung with brightly lit paintings. 
He walked by the Mona Lisa, and as he passed 
he knew the reason for her smile. 
He paused before Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, 
and the air seemed to be sweetly scented with the heavy perfume of roses, which pulled at his soul with soft, wraithlike arms.
He stopped.
The world seemed to shrink away from him,
dissolving into nothingness.
Before him was Van Gogh's "Starry Night"
Its yellow paint looked wet, vivid.
The blue rippled as the colours swirled
together, hypnotizing; the old man transfixed
by their mesmerizing beauty 
as he was swept up into their whirling splendor,
leaving the blue-shadowed hallway silent and empty,
as the pale stars wavered on in cold brilliance
Categories: wavered, art, death, life, mystery,
Form: Free verse


A Lifetime Blessed

A Lifetime Blessed

Winter fresh crystal clear
Lights adorn a home revered
Angels eternal essence glow 
Mom and Dad your hearts pure gold

Love you always and forever more
Your love a gift I worship and adore

Springs external ray of hope
Planted memories sprinkle seeds of love
Childhood cherished infused by wisdoms light
We blossoms bloomed with your gift of life

Love you always and forever more
Your love has given me wings to soar

Summers robins cheery song
Feeds my soul with pride and awe
Your selfless devotion has never wavered
You shelter and nurture us still today

Love you always and forever more
Your love for one another is my pot of gold

Fall you did for one another
Pothole so deep there would be no other
Passion red and orange so sweet
Luscious green your love concrete

Seasons change each unique
Nature speaks but can't compete
You're my heart your every beat
My love for you is above and beyond the air I breath
© Carol B.  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wavered, appreciation, love, parents,
Form: Free verse

My Faith

Sunlit Oak Forest by Kevin Hill



When I lose my footing, my faith returns when he is near me. 
For, I belong to him and he to me. This is the way God created 
us to be. If he fell from the edge of winter, I would warm him 
in my embrace. If he stumbled below a crescendo of clouds 
clashing, I would comfort him until my words drifted off in 
exhausted sleep.  If a full eclipse echoed darkness in his soul, 
I would be the light to guide him home, and I know he would 
be the same for me. I love the totality of him – the beauty 
and the darkness, weakness and strength. I would rather walk 
through a fading forest with him on treacherous earth of 
greenbrier and bramble than a smooth, picturesque path 
through evergreens alone. If his hand is holding mine, I am 
warm inside and more in love with him in every season of 
our journey. A heavy sky of gray and drizzling rain feels like 
a sunny day when he smiles at me. This is the life intended for us. 
My faith in God has never wavered, but it deepened when 
He gave me a lasting love.             


feet circle through dense woodland - 
I reach for your hand
and find my way back home 

7/15/20
Contest – My Faith
Sponsor – Regina Riddle
Categories: wavered, appreciation, faith, life, love,
Form: Haibun

Premium Member A Saigon Story

We lived in Saigon many, many moons ago
Of which I have a tale to share
About a pair of my husband boots 
His favourites…. the ones he loved to wear

A shoe shiner came to the work office
A teenage boy who looked very poor
Walked into the office quickly
And stole shoes from at the door

He ran with several pairs in hand 
While being pursued he dropped a few
But alas my husbands boots
Had vanished without a clue

I  had this  overwhelming gut feeling
That I would find this treasured pair
Though extremely unlikely and unrealistic 
Due to abundant shoes stalls in Saigon “everywhere”!

This feeling never wavered 
So each day on the school run while in the taxi
I intently scoured every shoe stall 
As far as my eye could see

Months later coming back from school
I thought I spotted them in a stall
Unsure but excited
I gave my extremely sceptical husband a call

My husband and his Vietnamese friend
Drove passed the stall on his motor bike
To first see if it was the said boots
And YES…..I was right!

My husband stayed out of sight
While his friend went to the stall
He bought back the boots at the Vietnamese price
As the foreigner price would have been triple or more!!

So,due to an overwhelming gut feeling
His beloved boots were home
Bought twice by the same man
Decades of moons later…. said boots he still does own!
© Deb M   Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wavered, feelings, hope, mystery,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Simple Flowers

My heart keeps asking what you meant
When without much fanfare you said

You don't like the fancy bouquet
Born of our prosperous days,

For you still love those simple flowers
I used to give you when we were poor.

I don't know how to tell you my dear
Flowers too have evolved over the years,

And this may be a good time to assure you
The vase so genuine, has never wavered.

February 5, 2018
HM: Brian's Choice A Contest by Brian Strand
Categories: wavered, flower, love,
Form: Free verse

The Mast

I stand tall and proud upon this ship
Never have I wavered on any trip.
If you listen you will hear me in the wind,
speaking to you again and again.
Stories of a ragging sea, 
while the fisherman worked below me.
Lightening and thunder clashed in the sky,
but I held firm against the tide.
Sometimes the sky was so blue,
and we would sail straight through.
Yes I am the Mast upon this vessel it’s true,
Sail with me and I will protect you.


JSergi
Categories: wavered, boat, encouraging, faith, fishing,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Unassailable Purity

Her birth was never trumpeted,
Nor caught any media headlines.
Born to Joachim in very ordinary settings,
Virgin Mary, the simplest of the simple,
Was specially chosen to perform a task divine.
As she grew up, she pledged to keep her body and soul,
Free of all blemish and stains of fleshly desires.

But in her teens, she was betrothed to Joseph,
Perhaps, part of a divine plan.
Did dreams come to nab her sleep, no one knows!

She found joy in prayer and absolute surrender to God.
Once when in silent communion with God, 
Hearing the flap of wings overhead, she looked up.
Seeing the flash of blinding light in her dim lit room
She stood in dazzled astonishment,
Not knowing what was about to happen.

Before her, appeared a winged seraph.
A radiant silhouette with such gentleness n’ grace
Its hands raised in benediction,
Saluted Mary and said,
“Blessed art thou amongst women…
……………………………………
The rest she heard in a trance.
Unable to digest what was said,
The girl looked up nonplussed.
Again, it said, “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee,
And a son shall be born of thee,
Whom you shall call Jesus.”

“How can this be”, 
The question lingered but didn’t ask.
     
In that nanosecond of a new revelation
Did Mary’s world shatter like glassware?
Or did her virgin womb thrill with new life?
Did she swim in the waters of joyful tidings?
Or gyrate in the sweeping swirl of tidal waves?

For a girl already espoused to a man
In whose dreams his comely form had begun
Flitting in and out,
Was it a moment of silent ravishment?
Or of stupefied bewilderment
Did a dagger cut through her heart?
Or did her soul take wing in flight???

Without questioning, 
She surrendered to the will of God,
Thereafter, never wavered nor bemused,
But readied herself for the great task.

Forever she remains a symbol of mercy and love.
Her immaculate grace is reflected on her radiant face.
Her lovely visage having greater beauty than any flower,
Emits sweet fragrance that perfumes our souls.
Remaining ever so pure with no trace of sin,
She is acclaimed by Christians all over the world,
As a symbol of unassailable purity and godly grace!
Categories: wavered, celebrity, christian, devotion,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Youth's Bounty

* When I was three years old *

===============================


My childhood ...

A tree full-to-overflowing
Branches weighty with fruit, blossoms
Each, a sweet memory of life ... family
Summers on the lake, winters in the mountains

The loving, teaching strength of Mom
Always nurturing, caring, molding the clay with precise intent
Guiding my brother and sister and I
Our instruction and yes, loving discipline, never wavered

Nor did the joys of experience and opportunity
Blessed in ways that many were not
Yet taught to appreciate it all - that it came from hard work
Oh, dysfunction, certainly ... Dad was never around

But you see, he was the provider, and did it to perfection
Long hours and vericose veins and (always) two drinks before supper
Left alone to his liking, sternly devoted to the role
Still, it was carefree, joyous, blessed beyond measure

And how I wish - how I ACHE - for the tree to bloom again
But the limbs are now barren ... bent and broken
Blossoms, taken by the winds of passing
Fruit, long since consumed ...

And I wait ... for autumn.






~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Childhood Memories" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories: wavered, appreciation, childhood, wisdom, youth,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Through the Ages What I Remember

Magazines and jewelry 
Nothing shows your age faster
I see a broach and think “That is from the 40’s or 50’s.”
Mink stoles were from the 30’s to sixty’s depending on the style.
Mushroom canister sets excite my 1970’s self.
Teenage movie magazines from the 50’s and 60’s 
are easy to recognize.
The disco stuff with the faux fur vests and
tight striped pants for men. 80’s.
I look at old magazines from the 60’s and 
I know most of the players.
Maybe all of them. 
I recognize Dr. Martin Luther King, Jacque O and Marilyn for sure.
Lucy and Desi, Tab Hunter and Natalie Woods. 
Pink cars? From the 50’s and 60’s probably. 
Turquoise cars? Not as easy.
Turquoise cars made a comeback in the 90’s. 
But the style might help.
It used to be I could name the year of any car 
built from 1955 through 1980.
I doubt I could do that anymore. 
Having moved on to other interests.
The Checker and the Mercury Marquis do not count.
They never wavered much from their own status quo.
I visit antique stores and smile. 
Recognizing things from my childhood.
Everything from my childhood is in an antique store including me.
I feel totally fine about it. It is the natural order of life.
"Hey, isn't that what's his name?" Uh-oh.
Categories: wavered, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse

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: wavered, analogy, appreciation,
Form: Rhyme
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