The day is almost over;
Tranquil crossover,
Expands my year's changeover.
His cool voice has never flop,
My quests will not stop:
Restlessly chanting of top.
Until I am a blessing,
And relieve stressing...
I will not stop assessing!
How well I could duly blend
With time, not world's trend...
To get the best; what I fend.
What I wait for all winter...
It isn't a spinster
To bring forward to minster.
So, chill down your quest of it.
Marriage could make hit,
But not only of been fit.
Of altar ravishing rose,
Not what age impose,
But of what trying snow shows.
Which stands rash tempest-like-flood,
That waits the spring bud...
Much likely of stagnant mud!
I listen to Him, above.
When to send the DOVE,
As best friend and true belove.
Like you know of my heart wish ,
If not too childish,
To rent more time been bookish...
Thereafter shall come that time,
Love won't be a crime,
When church bell shall gladly chime!
Another year is complete with its ups and downs,
Another chapter written, a page turned over,
Times when we maintained composure or had breakdowns,
Now it's time for a significant changeover,
Hearts filled with gratitude, we look up to heaven,
Thanking God for the blessing of His living breath,
Each disappointment was a refreshing lesson,
Each achievement taught us of His guidance in depth,
Now we look forward to a bright, new beginning,
Forgetting the past and reaching for the future,
Praying for a prosperous start, we are singing,
Thanking for today and hoping next year's SUPER,
This last day of 2025, we stand here,
Looking unto Jesus Christ, this year we embrace,
Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year!!
May God bless you with His benevolence and grace!!!
~ JEBA & JOANNA
changeover and changeabout
words that jumped and gave a shout
redundant if you ask me
while browsing in section C
Tattered by bad decisions, misdirected, unheard
questions that remain answered.
In a dilemma unequivocally side tracked by distorted
thoughts that occupy one's mind in such a matter.
On many occasions succumbed by blindspots,
Yielded by one way symbols, directional lights.
Illuminated calmly on one's voyage a mission of a shift .
A changeover of uncertainty, and a realignment for
A wellbeing life.
Surrendering to cool hues of amber days.
Elegant harmonize blaze outerwear lays.
Phrases undescribable arrays to praise.
Trees sashay into the rhythm breath of calming
Effusion of gold blooms fields flavorful breeze.
Morning glories and lilies requited love,
Birth of sapphire skies dominate the Autumn
Equinox a changeover sun from summer.
Refresh bright eyes resting in tangerine scenes.
Fall morning wood smoke aroma zephyr out;
A deft flick pirouette ambient flutter
Leaves crisp fly with whispers of meander wind.
Late nightfall chattering nature slowly creeps,
Short days, long nights earth's axis tilted a bit.
Like A Phoenix I Rise
By lady Arabella
Like a Phoenix in the ashes I rise above
With a heart full of kindness and love
Reborn from the pieces left broken
From the words that were left unspoken
But like a Phoenix I recuperate
In order to refocus and renovate
Even the strongest can combust and can go up in flames
There’s no need to feel shame
Instead learn the lesson it’s trying to teach
Read these words that are there to preach
And like a Phoenix rise from the ashes
Let your truth speak to the masses
Don’t hide behind the past and place blame
Just ensure you’re no longer the same
Like a Phoenix let yourself be re born again
Don’t dwell on you’re deign
Come back from it fiercer than ever
Ensure it’s ties you sever
Let it all go up in flames
Watch it burn as you fight to reclaim
Like a Phoenix learn to soar high and become reborn
It’s your time to be adorn
So rise and learn to fly above
Remember during this time the importance of self love
Like a Phoenix from the ashes, it’s time to start over
Remember this is your time for a changeover
M- March expletive cold
A- aren’t we ready for April?
R- ready for showers?
C- changeover will hand Georgia:
H- hades bless your heart iced tea.
3/30/2023
March Into April - Tankacrostic
Andrea Dietrich
The
imagined force is recast and concentrated into an inorganic
material.
Intentional,
possessing the owner's future with satisfying
charisma.
The
talisman, as some are known to be, is the resulting
changeover.
Better
days lay ahead of the object holders, who will be the subject of good
fortune.
Prehension
of one's life worth and outlook will be exceedingly
awesome.
Blithesome
accesses the favorable
heart.
Impart
the wealth produced, amongst
others.
Effectuators
are doubly loved for that
realization.
Fruition,
when done unnoticeably, is agape
love.
Hereinabove,
the exceptional natures are
emphasized.
Harmonized
beginnings are the effects of the talisman's
aura.
my birdies, this morning,
singing sweetly a love song.
the tune in winsome soaring -
to this God’s creation I belong.
they fall autumnal silent.
t’was but a brief flight
to my mind. it was private.
my birdies out of sight.
t’was but a quick interlude -
a moment that i caught.
brilliantly, it brightened my mood -
caught my blind spot.
now silence except the rumble
of a car or the refrigerator.
it is agony - still, i’m humble
that God is a regenerator.
leaves fall silently, pinched
in autumn’s infringment.
each branch has flinched
with cold rush impingement.
and sadly, Gage, the chocolate lab
from next door has walked over
the rainbow bridge - to the heart a stab,
difficult season for my friends - a fall changeover.
10/4/2022
There’s rainsong on Sunday morn.
The herald of Springtime reciting.
A chorus of wings in the changeover.
Unrelenting litany of praise from fowl.
Nature, humble and knowing, cheeps
loud and not silent, healing with peace.
Chirping, stirring, Winter to be released.
Forget the shadow of groundhog, lean
into the melody of a wet ground, awaiting
the plow and seeds, daffodils and hot sun.
Sing O earth, be rattled by resurrection.
What the robins and blue jays know.
What common man, with hope not despair,
hands opening the book where bonnie notes
ebb and flow on fiery tongues, in air, shared
on this very late Winter, a Sunday morn.
2/27/2022
Hating isn't for whole of my life,
Yet in here, I have to create a strife.
We shall wait till the poem, I finish
Then I'll embrace thee going swinish.
Grant me now, I'll pretend,
My hatred will blow to an end.
Ever since the time we met,
My loathing grew strong, I bet.
Don't advance near me, ever
The glare I bear here will lever,
That will throw thee to a distant,
Never to be, anyway persistent.
Farther away shall thee go
As I yell with a wrinkled brow,
Yet my heart shall cry in fear
Lest we lose the closeness, so clear.
I am almost getting over
Come nearer, let's see the changeover
I am a Q whose life will be vainly dark
If I am alone like in a lone park.
If I were an igloos I would be different than the others,
more flamboyant.
Painted in rainbow colors,
I would play hip hop music, and I would wear
a colorful, feathered boa, sprinkled with glitter.
There would be loudness,
And frenzied dancing, possibly screaming,
Especially after the polar bears begin
Stalking my inhabitants
which would be pretty easy to find
in the whiteness of Alaska,
Thanks to the loudness of my songs
And my rainbow colors,
And my enormously wonderful
feathered boa, with the glitter shining.
I would have rapid changeover,
trading family after family,
Possibly switching to jazz or bluegrass,
but keeping the boa until it finally blows away on its own.
The Last Red Rose of Autumn – First Portrait
The last red rose of Autumn signifies a
heartfelt farewell to all of us, as the coming
changeover to the icy-cold Winter season
begins to make its frigid presence known
all around as the faint glimmer of Autumn
slowly and inevitably says its goodbye to us.
The last red rose of Autumn is very special,
in its magical and enchanting radiant-red hue,
and in the divine spirit it conjures for all of us
to see of its wondrous image and beauty,
whilst we marvel at the majestic nature of its
richly redolent aroma that captivates our senses.
The last red rose of Autumn now sheds a big tear
that she must depart with the coming of Winter.
Goodbye.
Gary Bateman and Ingrid Krukenberg-Bateman
A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 24, 2018
(Free Verse)
Inevitably, soon it would be upon us.
Its arrival was imminent.
As I assessed the situation,
preparing for its appearance,
I simultaneously continued to spew inane words from my mouth,
and feigned interest in the inane words being spewed from hers.
It was lurking nearby.
It could pounce upon us at any moment.
At the end of the next joke.
Following the unconvincing laugh.
Prior to the changeover to the next random, mundane topic of conversation.
I could smell its presence.
I could sense its whereabouts.
As I adjusted myself to prepare for its arrival,
I wondered if her adjustments were in like kind,
or to position her for a defensive maneuver.
Still, I was not sure.
Then it was here.
Silence beyond compare.
Eyes looking into hers, and then away.
Catching her eyes looking into mine, and then away.
Just as sure as I was about its arrival,
I was equally sure of its soon departure.
But in what manner would it leave us?
Through the start of the next boring topic?
Through simultaneous, confused laughter?
By her announcing it is time to go?
Or, … by our first kiss?
Oh, how I hate
and yet, live for … the pause.
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.