When images of distant hills
turn more solemn, still and strange,
and all nature seems prognostic
of some dark and more deadly change.
In a star-filled midnight Heaven,
brooding and full of new-born thought
the patient poet stands watching
by whom liberation is brought.
Under trees all clothed in silver,
near the houses touched with white,
as chilly Winter kisses Earth
beneath the canopy of night –
He must bow in silent homage
to the pallid and pensive train
of stars that shine down such glory
on this wintery spirit’s reign.
Written: July 06, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
*****************
My path was unkempt, with cracked and bent signs
The once-azure sky turned gray, and my muse faded
Cursed seraphs hovered under lifeless skies, weeping.
In the mahonia mist of nestled truths and lost couplets in periwinkle poetry
I shoved in a cacophonous frenzy, confused—
Vade mecum was fetid with an epiphany of deceit
Silence echoed dread, and each scab was a guess
Iridescent smears of fervent deceit,
and Cupid's canopy engulfed the cetacean sonnets
A mocking wind bade shattering moans,
having learned to flaunt their tethered words
With my russet roots, I'm not a flashy flower,
but, I felt awful pain from distant love acronyms.
What if the cloudburst refrain bears no scars?
Or phosphene verses adorned with blue poppies,
might leave glowing traces on midnight shores?
I walked for miles to find that starting stanza.
Yet, despite such raucous, cataclysmic pain,
An earthquake faltered the stratus sky—
Not all who veer from the path must shatter
Obsessed, some must comply with the jostle of life.
One of my favorite places to be
is my bench swing with a canopy
I swing and float in the air
Problems don't exist, they are no-where
My swing, faces the backyard and beyond
Sometimes rain puddles in the field, a pond
A train of clouds often travel the open sky
I lift my feet, while I watch them go by
The birds sing all around me
Motion leaves me calm effortlessly
I could easily stay as time ticks by,
consumed by peace, oh my!
Heidi Sands
5/18/25
(C)opyright
Sparkling behind your smeyes
Unmined orange diamond lies
Burning in opulent grace
Ashes left; in them hearts I trace
Is that a glint in your eyes?
You do know they're absolute fire?
I'm an insect, drawn to my funeral pyre.
There's much joy in being burned by their love.
They are only eloquence; wordless yet articulate
Raking the colors to set a blaze of autumn's fantasy
I'm leaving with a gaze from the perfect canopy.
glittering fireflies
chirruped a passionate verse
as I waited for
beloved with trembling heart
under canopy of stars
"Autumn knows a mother's heart.
It gives and then lets go."~ Angie Weiland-Crosby
How proudly she stood, surmounting the tallest hill,
a blazing maple tree whose limbs spread far and wide.
In Summer, her green leaves swayed upon soft breezes,
but Autumn painted them shades of crimson and rust.
A burnished canopy, gilded by golden rays of the sun.
Ruffled by an errant wind, each leaf danced like a flame
before her limbs were barren, left in a state of malaise.
The stinging of the season's first frost caused her to weep.
Gnarled were her empty branches, as she stood weeping.
She was bereft and grieving as if she'd lost her children.
Maple held deep loathing for the changes of this season,
when leaves withered and the world was gloomy brown.
She endured Fall and Winter's snow by dreaming of Spring
when again she would glow on the summit of the tallest hill.
Pleased with her budding foliage and a newborn sapling,
she'd be dressed in green finery, where songbirds would nest.
A colorful breeze of falling leaves
Under the canopy of tall trees
The sky is clear and picturesque
Unusually beautiful blue blessed
Making lovers of fall so happy
Now embracing autumn laughing
Poem on Sloth and Nature
Throws itself around on its tail,
Trees wrapped between its globe,
Shallow pools reflect in repeat
It’s all it sees now,
Dried up meadows,
During the summer rays,
The trees cool off,
Humid air rises on,
Delicate branches,
Made just for itself,
To wrap around,
And hang upside down,
Its world is all that it sees,
The trees between each other,
Leaving no far space in between,
Its world, the one, it is able to grasp.
By Sarah Shahzad, July 2024
“Light pervades us. It wants to embrace us. Gloom is its barricade.”
- Quote_by poet
In the hope of this light I walk,
I'm not held by the night of yesterday,
Neither am I saddled by the tempest of my mind,
I'm sheltered from the gloom that portraits the day.
I'll go through the door that this light reveals,
I'll sojourn on the path that it illuminates,
Hope wells within me,
Courage flows from my chamber.
Nature’s light filters through my gloom,
Mirth pervades my room,
I look into the mirror with open eyes,
Faith wrestles fear.
Away from the darkness of yesterday,
Into the light of today,
I can see through the veil,
I'm not edged in by shadows.
November 19, 2023.
“Words speak volumes”
even the few, or the one
when chosen wisely –
let us not confound
quality with quantity –
like an honest kiss
on a barren cheek
at the right time
trumps a deluge of
well rehearsed slobbering –
greening trees
blossoming meadows
we share with all
Nature bold and
brilliant, scented
fondness,
breathe in and out
exhaling blessed
necessity –
taking selflessly
from one another
enfolded, raptured
within a canopy
of Divine Light –
Springtime crystal chill
harmony with nature's
eyes on champagne skies
" The forests are my bones "
I find the beauty of shadows and shades
beneath the canopy painted in dappled light
from the glorious glowing spokes
of a celestial sphere
that creates an elegant twilight realm
where my spirit is held captive
by the warm arms of changing hues
that comforts me in a quiet solitude
of reverence
as I walk the untrodden path
where limbs float on the wind
allowing sunlight to wash across the forest floor
like a glittering fragmented tide
to warm wild berries and ferns
that peacefully lay between the thickets
that stretch through the emerald forest
of standing trees
that my heart and soul...call home
8/4/22
contest Let your muse be inspired-R-form...Romanticism
sponsor Constance La France
Under fig tree's cool
Leafy umbrella's vacuum....
Privacy prevails
My thoughts turn to Jesus when
He knew Nathanael was there
Written: July 29, 2022
After picking a few figs on July 28th, when I walked inside the fig bush/tree's canopy a coolness and peace settled over me.
Too fragile stems hold heliotrope heads
Taffeta flaunted purple pompoms preposterous
Let us lie on the grass, smoke cigarettes
Aft petal papering conjure new year's purpose
Behold from below the branches spread
Frilly dusk shock puffs, dancing shuffle clusters
Obscure wombs become Wilde, paraded
Lying Spring in Winter cherry bloom discovered
Crushed plums, ostrich plumage cabaret
Bud watching binoculars magnify trivial matters
Syrup decay drips paint over Dorian Gray
Individuals strive beside their neighbours' status
Berating stoney belief in banal morality
Seven deadly virtues bruise a perfect husband
Ademant magenta silken siren Cheveley
Upsets good sense in serpent gaudy diamonds
9th June 2022
Written for Contest:
Purple Flowers
Sponsor:
Nayda Ivette Negron Flores
At 10:32 on this Friday morn,
no dark clouds are anywhere in site.
From an east view window, the sun is filled
with light as she sits high, shining ever so bright.
She 's surrounded by smooth wind flows and beautiful white clouds so peaceful and encased in a canopy of blue.
052722PSCtest, Bite Size Poem No. 45, Line Gauthier
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