Midst, whilst fully conscious
Life's golden dream
They are, for men, women
What's of Heaven
A part. Inhabitors.
Its bright-lit face.
Our neighbours; yours and mine!
In the sunshine!
At five, the world is leisurely and small,
tiny enough to fit inside my hand~
a pebble pocketed from the sidewalk,
a leaf, the outside world, I innocently understand
At fifteen, the world is hurried and expanding,
tilting toward faces in crowded halls~
I ponder who I’m becoming, studying
the mirror and glances steadying schoolroom walls.
At thirty, the world is broadening, the hours frantic,
asking for purpose in their spin and span~
the invisible but deliberate shaping
of the burgeoning person I began.
At fifty, the world is stable, days balanced and clear:
what shall stay, what shall fall away~
I keep the people and moments that ring true
and let what remains dissipate and decay.
At seventy, the world is unsteady, the pace softening slow:
the morning opens wide~
small moments, bright with quiet grace,
find room to rest inside.
#1
nine red-violet
idols intervened to
deliver an enliveningly
violent diversion for
our toney tender loins
#2
no fewer than
four woeful felon were-
wolf loungers re-
newed growling aboard their
newly tainted yellow-green and
grunge-splattered gurneys
#3
for blue-mean burgeoning
golf states the
best way to retool blonder
hair shaft maintenance is
through nebulous
globalization combined with
the further whirled onset of
bald faced lies
INTERESTING SIGNS
progressive
neutral
metamorphosis
untouched
in
constant
flux
of
contemporary
theories
with
normative
effects
an
inability
to
interpret
or innovate
innocence
on
insistence
of existence
a vitality
naturally
lauded
in
hallmarks
celebrated
with
intensity
bringing
countless
delights
burgeoning
enthusiasm
sophisticated
sensations
flux
in
vital
disquiet
of
providential
paradoxically
designed
entities
CONVEYING VITALITY-:-
universal
laments
shadow
individual
motifs
of FLEEING FORTUNES
endure
wearisome
struggles
engaging
existence
within OUR NATURES
occupying
burgeoning
themed
anachronistic
scenes
OPINION WITHOUT HINDRANCE-:-
exppected
persuasive
discussion
hinted
beliefs
in MATTERS ARTISTIC
gradually
illustrated
exhibited
reconciled
recognition
of CONSIDERABLE BEAUTY
believing
respecting
virtues
burgeoning
reportoire
Here I am in this moment
Standing at the edge of the new.
Here I am in this moment
Saying goodbye to the familiarity
Of what was, to make space
For a burgeoning, budding,
Blossoming, more peaceful view.
Here I am in this breath inhaling
the pause……. deeply, mindfully.
Suspended in the awareness of being.
Just being and extolling the
Gratitude in which I bathe and
In the love that is surrounding me.
Here I am and here I stay,
Dipping my toes into the crystal
Waters of thankfulness for all
That is, was and all that is to be.
Here I am. In this moment.
Buds
brightly
pop open
as Goddess Spring
showers each with love
and sun uplifts
burgeoning
April
blooms.
sudsing clouds of tangelo meringue;
saffron and gamboge blend
below the burgeoning sky.
bare bones Winter;
see through branches;
pickup truck nearby.
One lazy summer could I
As one stem of lie!
To feel as that grass, tranced sways
A hand the wind in!
Unseen moreo'er - divine!
Lady's - overfine!
Sent which state in, just as hazed.
Gold dreams burgeoning!
Warlocks, witches and wizards appear,
as they do this time every year,
exposing craggy faces, screeching sounds,
and sowing blood magic as fear abounds.
Guarding my head with pillowed quilt
hoping my craven face won’t melt!
But I cry out panicked! Horrified!
They pass me by on their frightful ride.
White-hot power rends me paralyzed
and by despair and anguish traumatized.
Terror races through my iced blood
reverberating a tortuous thud.
Ghouls and zombies teeming around
burgeoning in and out around town.
I pray to survive till sun arises
and confront no more horrid surprises.
Halloween is suitably scary.
I am vigilant, and wary.
Once-a-year is enough for me.
I savor being eerie- and freaky-free!!
With a gentle hand, He held mine,
Guiding me through the night,
Assuring me that I would find the light,
A perpetual light that pierces through burgeoning darkness.
We journeyed through the meadow,
With a gentle hand, He held mine,
Dispersing the gnawing shadows,
Telling me to awaken the dying hope.
We sojourned across the sea,
The intermittent turbulence frightened me.
With a gentle hand, He held mine,
Calming my fearful heart,
Telling me to see beyond the tempest.
We journeyed through the forest,
I was distraught;
There was no place to lay my head.
With a gentle hand, He held mine,
Telling me to learn resilience from the trees,
Admonishing me to seek knowledge from their silence.
We travelled across the desert,
I was parched and worn out,
Blazed by the sun.
With a gentle hand, He held mine,
Telling me that the sun would soon retreat to its chamber,
And the moon would open the door to mysteries that herald a new beginning.
September 5, 2025.
I hide beneath oceans deep where mysteries peep.
I dwell amid the arching spectrum of rainbow hues
Some slander and call me ‘green eyed jealousy’
All I do is make this earth cheery to everyone's eyes.
I am the harbinger of the burgeoning spring.
I’m everywhere, even on a seemingly barren hill top,
I’m in trees and grass, crowning and carpeting the land.
To ailing spirits, I’m balm. To peasants, I’m hope.
I am the lovely garb God gave the earth to wear.
Due to misuse, it is now under wear and tear!
They bloomed together
within the same state of mind
though separated
by zones of time.
Sultry words sprouted
sprig-like inklings flourished
as they bound each other
to a burgeoning erotica,
yo florid images.
O such efflorescence!
O how the swelling vine
can cling and clutch
at far distant hearts,
sadder yet the perfidy
of too hungry a need,
for indeed
he also tendered
to many other female offshoots,
and she herself was a veritable
Venus Fly Trap.
In such a way,
they wove their sensual spells,
a hothouse sorcery
doomed
never to be close enough
to ever take root.
Robert Cabot Sherman, Jr. was an All-American boy.
To his parents, Robert Cabot Sr. and Juanita, he was their great joy.
Gifted with acting skills and a great voice, his career went far.
In no time at all, California's native son became a star.
On television in "Here Come the Brides", he played "Jeremy"
This role cemented his tremendous popularity.
His first recording of "Little Woman" soared up the charts.
Bobby won uncountable teenage girls' hearts.
His burgeoning popularity was totally unquestionable.
Other hits that followed made him a big teen idol.
With all the attention he was getting, there was some strife.
Bobby decided to back away to a quieter life.
Yes, Bobby certainly accomplished much in his day.
At the age of eighty-one, he silently passed away.
Bobby Sherman
(1943-2025)
I thank Wikipedia,org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.