Best Wends Poems
When fields gleam aureate and song birds sing
and transient stars in clusters scintillate,
when sweet perennials are coaxed by spring
to blossom forth, he comes with sprightly gait.
He wends his way along the mountain trails
past opalescent rush of streams and rills,
goat-footed, on the paths that ribbon dales
and wind around and up and down small hills.
Then nymphs appear as, through the woods, he trips
to flower-smitten meadows. Fancy-free,
he leads them with his reed held to his lips,
till blithely they embrace his rhapsody.
So hear the music; watch the wood nymphs spin. . .
Then captured by sheer merriment, join in!
For Nathan A.'s ANY POEM GOES Poetry Contest
While whispers shush on sheltered shores, as soon the cockcrow quakes,
the seas descry a skittish sky, sense summer zephyrs wake –
roused passions neath the sunrise pulse, the whitecaps throb and ache.
Along the crests crawl shallow shades the soaring sun effaces
and rains in streams enhance the dreams that fantasy embraces
while ocean sprays of yesterdays reveal forsaken faces.
The midday sun has slowed its run, a shrinking puddle steams,
between the knells of shattered shells drift soaring seagulls’ screams –
the beauty wends but never ends, or so it surely seems.
At dusk a ruddy disk descends, the skyline's furnace burns
and neath the swells where Neptune dwells, an undercurrent churns –
a seahorse hides and seaweed bides until the tempest turns.
While twilight hosts the winds with ghosts of barbed electric spangles,
a mermaid braves the crashing waves adorned with starfish bangles –
her spirit yearns in twists and turns entwined in rockweed tangles.
As seven stranded seamen scan the dimple-dappled moon,
a brace of surly Sirens serenade a lonely loon –
the breakers pound and sometimes sound a melancholy tune.
Soon gales ignite the briny night and rip the skies askew
with zigzag teeth flashed deep beneath a blazing bolt tattoo –
storms, spent, subside in ebbing tides, then all begins anew.
Erin Go Bragh
At Ben Bulben’s feet Sligo stands,
The home of such creative hands
Where poet William Yeats did grow.
The Nobel Prize his poems did know.
On my trip to this emerald isle,
I yearned to visit a long while.
As sun poured through the misty sky,
Shedding warmth with its golden eye,
I stood beside the lough in awe
At dancing diamonds that I saw
Near Connemara’s tall twelve bens
O’er lands of ancient souls that wends.
I sense their haunting watchful eyes
And feel my roots where rivers rise.
I hear their voices lost at sea,
They echo on eternally;
As with the thousands who took flight
During the worst potato blight.
Their sadness streams across the seas
Where most souls died with unheard pleas.
Those sad and tragic days long past,
And Erin’s joys returned at last
To verdant Lee and sandy shores,
To music heard across the moors,
To people with the kindest hearts,
Is what this isle to me imparts.
Repost from © 2013
*Erin go bragh means "Ireland Forever"
*lough means a lake
*Ben means Irish, a mountain peak
Happy St. Patrick's Day Everyone!
My thanks to this wonderful website:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAviOxkIhXE
Law, English, business, and so on—
alas, are tiresome!
All the professors here go on
with a prime axiom.
A moldy, college campus where
knowledge and books abound,
freshmen and co-eds are clueless
and confused all around.
Mid-terms and finals I so dread
as the semester wends;
the pressure's on me to study
as my freshmen year ends.
School's oppressive this semester,
I'll see my old provost
and leave 'ere I rot and fester
to try a better post.
William & Mary's M.B.A.'s
are just worthless BS
(degrees from the home of “The Tribe,”
dross that just obsolesce).
I'll trill as “The Lithium-Laced Lyrist”—
as rhymes are my forté,
not tomes or stuffy scholastics:
for poesy's my métier!
At Ben Bulben’s feet Sligo stands
The home of such creative hands
Where poet William Yeats did grow.
The Nobel Prize his poems did know.
On my trip to this emerald isle,
I yearned to visit a long while.
As sun poured through the misty sky
Shedding warmth with its golden eye,
I stood beside the lough in awe
At dancing diamonds that I saw
Near Connemara’s tall twelve bens
O’er lands of ancient souls that wends.
I sense their haunting watchful eyes
And feel my roots where rivers rise.
I hear the voices lost at sea,
They echo on eternally;
As with the thousands who took flight
During the worst potato blight.
Their sadness streams across the seas
Where most souls died with unheard pleas.
Those sad and tragic days long past,
And Erin’s joys returned at last
To verdant Lee and sandy shores
To music heard across the moors,
To people with the kindest hearts
Is what this isle to me imparts.
© 2013
*Erin go bragh means Ireland Forever
*lough means a lake
*Ben means Irish, a mountain peak
In the heart of the Loire valley
Where the river wends its way
A young dreamer lured by nature
Free of care played music gay
As he wandered along footpaths
Playing lightly on his flute
By the vineyards in abundance
And the orchards full of fruit.
It was there that he encountered
A fair maiden and her art
She was painting on her canvas;
With a smile she stole his heart.
From then on they met in secret
Near the rolling hills in green
Where the flowers looked in wonder.
They were happy and serene.
They made love and plans together
Spoke of dreams they meant to share
Looked at life through coloured lenses
And built castles in the air.
Then one night a storm erupted
Unexpected in mid May,
Raging waters in a frenzy
Came and took her life away.
All his dreams were quickly shattered
And the castle tumbled down
For his Queen of Hearts had left him
Broken king without a crown.
In the ruins of the castle
He was left to sit and grieve
And his friends who came to visit
All were kindly asked to leave.
Days and nights passed undetected
As he dreamed of raven hair
On his lips he felt her kisses
Woke to find she was not there.
Then one day, he rose with vigour
Once again he built the dream
Made a castle even finer
Standing stately by their stream.
And the people came to marvel
At the wonder of this sight
For there in the very centre
Was her statue gleaming bright.
Now the castle so resplendent
Stands a testament to love
Which will never wane or wither
Conquers death and soars above.
-------------------------------------
26th August, 2015
Paul Callus & Eileen Manassian
Contest: Partner Up
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
The tide weaves and wends
its' way among the pier posts
where I will dig for tiny
shark's teeth and whelks in the sand;
I love making genuine oceanside jewelry.
Dawn ascends to brighten the day
Birds trill with songs of glee
Morning's breeze makes the willows sway
I rejoice with esprit
As Earth keeps on turning
I will be discerning
The sun will be burning
As night wends
Dawn ascends
September 26, 2021
Quietus-August 2021 Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Pastel shades of morning,
glow as dark wanes to light.
Colors brushed in the skies
in peach and lilac tones
as dawn begins to rise.
Pastel shades of morning,
are emboldened by noon.
Inflamed as if on fire,
shining ever brighter
as sunbeams fly higher.
Pastel shades of morning,
darken throughout the day.
Amber honey hue wends,
deepens as hours go by
before the sun descends.
Pastel shades of morning,
suddenly reappear
when sunlight starts to fade.
'Fore drowning in the sea
soft colors will cascade.
Deep in forests of green,
beneath majestic timbers,
in soft woody light
wild roses are to be seen
Achingly beautiful,
wild roses
The colour
as I imagined
The wild rose,
wends its' way
through the green
The colour
The purpose
All knows
All can be seen
For where there are shadows
A wild rose will burst free
For it knows,
knows it is part of me
Petals of velvet
Fragrant scent
The place we met
My heart
All it meant
A wild rose,
deep in forests of green
Shadows cannot mask
The beauty I have seen
Pariksha Pe Charcha
Pariksha Pe Charcha
When the session ends
A student wends
Shows a lot of determination
To prepare for one’s examination
We all feel stressed
And everything seems messed
There’s no time to waste
As we are being raced
Then just before our exam
‘Pariksha Pe Charcha’, by our Prime Minister came to rescue
Taught us there’s no need to cram
Just find what works best for you
We learnt that technology is a boon not a curse
It’s in our hands if we make it worse
Celebrate an exam like a festival
And try not to hustle
Competition is the best part of life
That’s how we learn to thrive
Working on ourselves continuously
And taking decisions cautiously
Marks do not matter
But that doesn’t mean we should smatter
Just try to give your best
Because it’s just a test
On the course at Coomealla where the Murray River wends,
Golfers hit their balls and miss the kangaroos,
Now their aim is not to hit them where a fairway shot extends,
For a wayward shot can see us golfers lose.
We had walked our way around the course and had two holes to play;
Kenny James with me, and slowcoach Timmy Wright,
We were lucky ‘cause there’s not a ‘kangar’ in the way,
But the clubhouse balcony is in our sight.
It isn’t only kangaroos that tend to be a target causing strain
That makes the likes of Timmy’s golfing crook,
He find’s the red gums and the black box, time and time again
When playing shots not written in the book.
So for half our day out on the course we’re hunting Timmy’s ball
In amongst the drying grass and brittle bark,
But today he’s concentrating better and we wonder after all
If we can make the clubhouse before dark.
We’re starting to get fidgety with Timmy stalling on this hole,
Where the clubhouse balcony has come in sight,
For Timmy’s looking up and down, and measuring control,
Then checking if the wind direction’s right.
But Ken got really narky, and then he pointed at the tee,
Shouting “Tim, for God sake have a swat!”
Tim looked toward the balcony, “The wife is watching me,
So my swing has got to make the perfect shot”.
Ken looked up at the balcony, and scratched beneath his chin,
I could see his mathematic mind in gear,
At first he shook his head and then he added with a grin,
“Forget it mate, you won’t hit her from here!”
Torrents of emotion tumbling through the mind
Heartbreak and acceptance sadly now entwined
Catch the fading moments, filtered gold to grey
One fantastic hour, One remembered day.
See the concerned faces, lock them in your eyes
Hear sad conversations, tend the silent sighs
Soothe hearts with your comfort, bear the pain away
One fantastic hour, One remembered day.
Hold your dreams forever, never let them die
Burnish them with passion, drive your resolve high
Pound that haunted high road till it wends your way
One fantastic hour, One remembered day.
Welcome, welcome my dear friends!
Come join me in my bower.
Lavender, lovely and luscious am I,
A most seductive flower.
My pendulous blooms they dangle,
Like grapes upon a vine.
Clusters of purple decorously draping,
A gazebo or fence line.
Come imbibe my heady fragrance,
As it wends through the warm Spring air.
Let my perfume embrace you,
Let it take away your cares.
Lavish me with sunshine bright,
Refresh me with abundant rain.
I am strong, wild, a free spirit,
Wisteria growing unrestrained.
Wisteria means welcome.
5/5/15
In the heart of the Loire valley
Where the river wends its way
A young dreamer lured by nature
Free of care played music gay
As he wandered along footpaths
Playing lightly on his flute
By the vineyards in abundance
And the orchards full of fruit.
It was there that he encountered
A fair maiden and her art
She was painting on her canvas;
With a smile she stole his heart.
From then on they met in secret
Near the rolling hills in green
Where the flowers looked in wonder.
They were happy and serene.
They made love and plans together
Spoke of dreams they meant to share
Looked at life through coloured lenses
And built castles in the air.
Then one night a storm erupted
Unexpected in mid May,
Raging waters in a frenzy
Came and took her life away.
All his dreams were quickly shattered
And the castle tumbled down
For his Queen of Hearts had left him
Broken king without a crown.
In the ruins of the castle
He was left to sit and grieve
And his friends who came to visit
All were kindly asked to leave.
Days and nights passed undetected
As he dreamed of raven hair
On his lips he felt her kisses
Woke to find she was not there.
Then one day, he rose with vigor
Once again he built the dream
Made a castle even finer
Standing stately by their stream.
And the people came to marvel
At the wonder of this sight
For there in the very center
Was her statue gleaming bright.
Now the castle so resplendent
Stands a testament to love
Which will never wane or wither
Conquers death and soars above.
----------------------------------------
26th August, 2015
Paul Callus & Eileen Manassian
Contest: Partner Up
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton