Bronzing Poems

The picture on the parlor wall

The picture on the parlor wall
Is dishevelled and dramatic 
It's sullen bronzing ornate frame
Belies something problematic 

The imagery is deafening 
The figure stands enigmatic
The scenery bereft of life
Is staunch and proudly Pragmatic 

The figures eyes are dark and blank 
With a mindset automatic
As she follows you around the scene
Her body remains static

The picture on the parlor wall
Sees all

sphere of light

sphere of golden light 
beat down on me with glory 
bronzing my pale skin

Autumn

A pple pickers gaily riding in wagons, sipping cider along the way, headed for orchards, on a crisp, clear sunny day.

U mbrellas turned inside out when wily north winds blow, and sheets of rain, without refrain, follow all the way home.

T urning leaves of gold and crimson hues, ignite the woodlands and city parks, a spectacular, humbling view.

U mber swathes of color, spreading over marsh and field, extinguishing summers rainbow palette, bronzing acres without yield.

M ischievious squirrels scamper, hording acorns in winter nests and wooly bear  caterpillars journey to their rest.

N ight rises, dropping a charcoal veil, a choir of crickets chirping, in the chilly autumn air.

Summer

***Summer's not quiet here yet, but I live in Florida...***




                                                   Summer


       Earth awaken as a plethora of whales disembark from distant places
       Frigid storms dashed into the skies destined to inhabit empty spaces
       Sea captain tell seadogs to hoist skull and bones then fire pirate gun
       White wings outspread dazzling albatrosses herald the season begun


       Bodies swathed in lotion fervently absorb bronzing rays from the sun
       Pushing crusted pails and trowels children tossed pebbly sand for fun
       Bathers in the nude deny nervousness while bravado displays finesse
       Footprints upon shores pay homage to the gods of true summer bliss







                                        Penned on: 01/14/2018
                                        4:53 p.m.
                                        West Palm Beach
                                        Florida USA

November's Bronzing Glow

Detailing leaves of golden spiff 
I lean up close to take a whiff 
of turmeric colored leaves sublime 
and skies of ruby reds sweet wine 
Engaged upon the breeze my touch  
awaits the pinnacle's non such; 

Sharing space with a painters brush 
I sketch a new horizon's rush 
on a canvass virgin without blotch 
envisioned scenes of yellow scotch       
while up above  the skylark soars 
on sweet November's wing adore 

Inhaling salt and sea I breathe 
the very things of me that seethe 
embroiled in art to hearts content 
I hear falls bitter sweet lament 
she doesn't want to touch the snow,  
nor lose her natural bronzing glow.  


November 26, 2020
Lay November Poetry Contest
Sponsor: William Kekaula
Eight syllables per line (howmanysyllables.com)

Beautiful Jesus-

Your face bronzing golden shines as the sunshine face as the sun 
shining on it shows it Shine your eyes 
Eyes red as a flower loads lifeblood out of a vein 
beautiful beautiful beautiful
Jesus. 
You're the sunrise you're the sunset venue and you
 I am so wonderfully Heavenly blessed 
for I am honest as the roar in your voice is like lightning 
the roll of many Waters Thunder your face is like the sun shining
 shining so full and bright
 Shines so we can't illuminates the night 
your eyes are flames of fire
 hair white like wool like snow 
if two also bright my catalyst you are my beautiful  Christ


3/16/17
Written by James Edward Lee Sr©2017

I Am Who I Am

I am the ocean waves
An unsteady rhythm
Swells of overwhelming anxiety
Never knowing just when to crash
But when I do
You’ll know

But

I am also the salty tide 
Pulling the people in my life close
But then pushing them away
To protect their hearts
Because
too much of a tide
Can be dangerous

I am the intense yellow sun glimmering
When you see me you smile a true smile
Sharing a much needed, bronzing warmth
Sharing my protection from the booming storm clouds
That ruin your day

I am not just another face 
Although I might not be the prettiest pink shell in the sand
I won’t shatter when you pick me up
I won’t wash away when you see me 

I am not anything I don’t know
I am not going to try and be something I’m not
If you can’t accept that
Leave me in the sand for someone else that will

Beautiful Fall

Behold the brightly decorated leaves
Emblazoned through the hills in splendid views,
And carpeting the earth in bronzing sheaves;
Unveiled in scarlet, amber, golden hues.
The dancing leaves waltz blithely on the trees.
In scattered troupes they flutter to and fro.
Fantastic actors swirl upon the breeze
Unfurled across the stage of Autumn's show.
Let us applaud the majesty of Fall.

For far too short a time does she display
All nature's varied shades in her ballet.
Let us applaud the majesty of Fall.
Let us applaud the majesty of Fall.

9.10.18
Contest:  Beautiful Fall

Kinetic Days and Nights

old things look different in the light of latter years.
latent appeal of patina, driven by kinetic days and nights.
bronzing of biblical bravery with no forensic fears.
the lilting loveliness of velveteen rabbit and fairy tales.

miniscule muscles bruise and buffalo into iambic fame.
pigeons likely to stain statues, poop on patina’s parade.
beautiful bird baths wipe away the superachiever’s shame.
antiquated arsenal of party poopers wearing yellow shades.

Standing in the rain so long without the umbrage of an umbrella.
The air up there, chameleons the charming gallant green style.
Her torch fearlessly fired up, welcoming the weary. Our Bella!
Liberty’s perfect patina color amuses the Mona Lisa. She smiles.

6/28/2018

Patina Contest

Summer I

Finally the chill of spring is gone
alone comes summers warmth
ray of sunshine 
beating down on my face
bronzing my tired and weary cheeks
hiding all the signs of pain and grief
held for the past year
summers comfort nestles me within
it's beautiful night skies
sitting around bon-fires 
sharing memories with family and friends
and gorgeous morning wake-ups
sipping steaming coffee on the back porch
listening to world come alive
watching the sky evolve into a portrait
this is what summer is meant to be

Bronzing In the Sun

The sun fills me with glory and my tank is refreshed, right down to my toes it sinks its vitamins deep, I have often laid and lazily fallen asleep, careful those rays are harshly blessed. 
Amongst many a bronze goddess I compare, an extra ray here and there would not care, Aphrodite herself would stop and stare, T'was not another English girls affair.
Temptous shining like Goddess's do, sat in my shiny beach like mind, staring so blind not knowing quite who are you, quietly reflecting a moment I find.
Delicious rays so bright whilst I sit, a quick rest back on the road I find bright, off with a jump and a kick in my wit. Its getting more like an ode. 
The glittering sun glorious I'm abound ,your yellow your round I think I have found, you fill me up my tank it's not a test, I'm now with mother nature I'm finally blessed

Indian Summer Autumn

The holly berries reveal 
 a bronzing tint of orange
 on their journey to becoming 
      deep, dark, blood reds.
Soon the three bonded trees 
 will glow in vibrant color
 held bold and standing out 
       against the snow and waxy green.
This is the robins and the blue jays 
 favorite winter treat
 stolen and devoured 
       in one cold, harsh winter day.

Off in the distance,
  some trees are fully naked
  while others unexposed 
       wait to undress.
Some have color barely faded 
 held on the palette of distinction
 still full with greens, yellows, 
       crimson reds and orange.
Others stretch and open up 
 the blue ocean of the sky
 and but for one or two cloudy wisps,
       brilliant beneath the sun.

Now and then 
 there comes the rush and slurried breeze
 moving through defoliating leaves
       then holding still and quiet
playing a game of peek a boo 
 throughout the days of mixing
 warm, hot, cold, gentle, and rough 
       Indian Summer Autumn.

Dreams of Paradise

Sunless days under artic charred skies

frozen rain pelting, making me cry

harsh north winds, chill to the bone

why do I even call this place home?

Dreams of paradise have begun

Endless sunsets over clear cobalt seas

Pure white sands blanketing a quiescent cove

as a warm zephyr floats across my bronzing tan

and then I see her

that smooth Mediterranean toned skin

sauntering slowly through the gentle tide

 playful splashes glimmering off her sun kissed lips

her dark sunglasses and colourful hat attempting to hide her beauty

but I know

I can see it in her graceful gait

in her sensuous sway

the way she lightly kicks the water

and definitely in her smile

oh how she flashed it my way

when she saw my stare

when I walked up

and she flipped that hair

an angel rising from the sea

my missing olive tree

I knew

I knew she was for me

we walked the beach and talked

she took my hand 

my heart went a flutter

as our lovelorn lips locked

I was home

Bronzing of Trees

Silhouette of trees dressed in chiffon prints
Oaks, pines, maples tossing  their hair
I trail along their rumba curve
way down to where glazed bushes nestle.
Above roasted sail of Laguna River
crossing a moat...today, foliage begins to seethe
on flamed leaves amidst summer’s  embrace,
as  more timber follow a  float
where mauve petals kiss the air.

The bronzing of glens and wheezing of mist
reach a coaled ember of summer fire,
cluster of moments drapes veined trunk
with sniff of earthy scent, reminding me
how lush the branches swell against heat
of August ‘s coals when two pairs of arms
brush the stars with paint of reveries.
Warm the meeting of palms fondling the barks
In a dizzy sketch of romance, and then,
Like a curl of ambrosial boughs in rumba dips,

Trees hold passion’s charade, until...



Charlotte Puddifoot's  Vibrant Verse 2 Contest
- new poem

Tim Horton's Kathy

The monitors above her head
would flicker light around.

The registers with type print on
would say 'no price was found'.

And Kathy stood behind the cash-
a beakon crowned with cap

to wish the people WELCOME.
A smile with-out crap.

A leopard bearing blue eyes,
Kathy stood to serve.

Her manners more expicit.
Her bravery without nerve.

An auburn light upon her.
It bronzing her blond hair.

Her torso come to teeter
with patience and with flair.

Surrounding her were donuts
encased in white-lit glass.

Where Kathy learned to gesture
and glance at them with class.

With prices all around her
on menu's black and white.

It's said that Kathy juggles
a combo for a knight.

But if you see her waiting,
it's not for Mr. Right.

It's under 20 minutes
and her coffee's a delight.

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