It wasn’t who I was;
I had become a stranger in my own skin.
No one was willing to help me;
I was under the shelter of gathering darkness.
It wasn’t who I was;
I could barely afford a good meal.
It felt like climbing a steep hill,
A journey through a withered meadow.
My son didn’t want to come close.
I turned to look at him and saw him turn away.
I sat alone on the porch at twilight;
Sadness weighed down the boat of my being.
I soar on the wings of dawn;
I walk into the morning light, filled with awakening hope.
A slow sink is not a shadow symphony,
If only hope could be buoyed from being submerged.
Sent out with a mission;
Embraced with a assignment;
Running through the forest;
Tracking through the valley;
Discovering a boarded cave;
Traversed through a tunnel;
Stumbling upon a hilly place;
Climbing a mountain;
Feeling a lot like a race;
Requiring a ton of grace.
Of spires of timbers tall,
mountains in the beauty of ancient.
The eagle’s flight takes my earthly breath,
as Native American spirit tales whisper
in the cool misty valley.
Lakes blue mirror the changing clouds,
sunlight dapples gold in the pine straw,
the deer with their grace.
I see my children the howling wolves,
their gray shadows loping through the
forest with their young.
Lumbering grizzlies dine on berries,
their cubs curious climbing a small
tree.
A hum of honeybees bobbing on
blooms.
Sierra Club is made up of so many
environmentalists to heal the
hurting earth.
Another generation joins in the cause
of her survival and a love for her.
The afternoon becomes a purple and
pink twilight,
crickets begin a starry song rising so
eloquent,
as the bats welcome night’s hunting,
with a whoosh of myriads of wings.
Thank you, Sierra Club,
this senior is proud to be a member. ~
In the digital kitchen where metaphors boil,
I cast my rhymes into the simmering soup,
Hoping for gold in the luminous toil,
Watching the cursor in a silvery loop.
A notification blooms—a digital flower—
First place! The screen turns into a glowing violet,
I am a giant for one shining hour,
Wearing a crown made of a pristine sonnet.
The poets applaud with binary applause,
My words are like pearls in a silken sack,
Suspended high above the gravity laws,
Without any intention of looking back.
Then comes the speechlessness—a vast, white void,
Another contest, another empty plate,
My rhyme is shattered, a paper humanoid,
Left in the digital vestibule of fate.
The soup is bitter, the pixels turn to grey,
I drown in the stanzas that nobody reads,
Watching my reputation drift away,
Among the respectable mentioned weeds.
I am climbing a ladder made of commas,
Falling into a valley of exclamation points,
Winning and losing, the constant dramas,
Where the screen aches in its digital joints.
The winner is a ghost in a tuxedo,
The loser is a shadow on the wall,
Yet both are feeding the same hungry ego,
In the soup that tastes like nothing at all.
I went out walking
In the afternoon
I looked to the sky
What would it be like
Climbing a ladder?
Up into the sky?
I pondered my thought
To climb the ladder
i saw the ladder
It had a banister
I could hold onto
When I climbed it
It gave me3 courage
To climb upward
One step at a time
I saw the dark sky
The stars were shining
I saw the dipper
the moon was huge
I saw planets small
I saw planets large
The clouds different shapes
A rainbow seen
Then my foot slipped
Falling so quickly down
Where would I end up?
Falling in darkness
I was frighted
Landing on the ground
From a dream I woke
Violet Grape Purple Envelope
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Contest Judged: 10/4/2025 11:20:00 AM
( 7th place )
In the mailbox, it waited,
a violet grape purple envelope…
not the plain white of bills,
not the business-blue of routine,
but a shade rich as twilight grapes
pressed into wine.
The flap held more than paper;
Its pulse echoed the warmth of a waiting hand,
the secret weight of words
never said aloud.
I lifted the seal,
and the room tilted…
like stepping into a midsummer orchard
where each branch hung heavy,
brimming with whispered secrets
of fruit still blushing in the sun.
Inside, no gold, no check,
just a letter, simple and trembling.
Ink curved across the page
like vines climbing a trellis…
every word a fruit,
sweet with risk,
staining me purple.
I held it close,
as though the page exhaled in quiet pulses,
like hidden grapes fermenting
beneath stone and quiet flame…
a slow transformation,
love softening into molten amber.
The Strength of the Will
Deep within every soul lay the strength of the will
All the temperance and fortitude that it can instill
When seeking for some answers and confusion is the host
Is when your inner strength of the will is needed the most
There are constant tests for this strength of the will
Willpower becoming a saviour, a time tested skill
Right and wrong deeply inwoven within your mind
Thoughts, feelings and confusion all intertwined
Temptations will constantly test your strength of the will
Be it of the body, the mind, or some extreme test of skill
Though you may stumble and fall prey to some ordeal
Only strengthens your resolve to everything that is real
The strength of the will can be different to everyone
For it may be a solemn promise that must be done
Or a silent understanding of what you’ve become
Perhaps lessons learned that you have overcome
When you feel conquered by some kind of strife
When you question your destiny within your life
When you feel simple tasks are like climbing a hill
Is when you pray to find your strength of the will
Life throws so many curves at you sometimes you don't know where to turn you don't know what to do it seems that you are climbing a mountain that seems to keep going.
Working your fingers to the bone just to have barely nothing at all the sacrifices you make daily are stretching you thin to the point where you are mentally drained.
There is nothing else to give there's only a crumb left of your sanity.
Love can bring joy it can smell of the fragrance of roses and a variety of flowers.
It can burn like fire it can rain down many blessings like a family you never expected to have but it can bring many trials and tribulations like frustration, Anxiety and many others things
But this is apart of what makes life what it is all we can do is go step by step.
Take it day by day in order to survive to be strengthened
Love and Life go hand in hand
olitude 4…..
Incessant rain and the solitude:
You, rain and the solitude
A trilogy
Things beyond reach, always loveable!
A sort of old habit!
Always I try to find the common thread!
Even if I know!
Every side of the trilogy
Same as climbing a hill!
Worst even!
The rain brings both , you and the solitude!
Helpless as before, I know it pinches!
Solitude draped with leftover memories!
In a space reserved for not thinking
a TV blames itself for telling lies to you.
It's another fake cathartic moment.
A wall clock coughs into its hands,
Mouthing a bullet proof prayer -
I waggle limbs into more natural shapes.
Avoid mirrors for a while
until my face settles.
Stamp petulantly
over a not-welcome mat.
The sun has got itself snagged
in shadowy thickets,
a wind sharpens itself
on my nose
perseverance snaps at my heels.
“Go tell it on the mountain”
I speak this uplifting line
while grimacing through a snarl.
Shouldering an invisible load,
climbing a medium-sized mediocre hill.
It takes a whole metaphorical day
just to climb it halfway.
Pause, take a breath.
Try to remember, try to forget,
Try walking backwards for a while.
Amid the haze, where mist is not sky but mourning,
a stone tower leans like the last pillar of a vanished world.
Roots coil, climbing a ruin’s leg—ivy’s frail revenge—
as nature attempts a kindness for the ghosts left behind.
Beneath, the earth spills out its dust and half-lit secrets;
a whisper, faint, rises from the ground’s brittle breath,
tracing the empty arches of forgotten passage.
No flesh remains to tread the bridge of old sorrows,
no murmur to echo within these ashen halls—
only the weight of silence, wrapped in fog’s dim cloth.
Columns bend like tall specters in their grief,
each shadow-shape a slow and solemn sigh.
The trees, too, weep in their stillness, their limbs raised
as though to hold up a heaven too cold for hope.
It is a place for the unseen, for the waning hour’s chill.
Here, where all is but trace and fading—
a world paused, or passed,
its ancient song withering on the air like a regret
unspoken for centuries,
its only language now
the echoes that linger when nothing else will.
Climbing a stairway into the mind without
steps
In a room with no windows only doors
without keys
Just silence on deaf ears so it's as quiet as
kept
It's dark like a dead sleep with no life to
it's dreams
Visions so lucid & liquid like as if from eyes
that just wept
Sometimes you can see things with eyes
that don't see
Oceans of worlds exist right before you but
your eyes don't detect
It's so deep that you're surrounded by the abyss
but unaware of the sea
Oh how she loves to journey…in her life travel is a must.
It’s one of life’s beautiful added bonuses…being born with wanderlust.
So they plan these awesome trips…and together they travel far and wide…
happily touring the country…hand-in-hand and side-by-side.
Yes, she was born with a lust for adventure…in her this need is strong
He was not born with her wanderlust…but he loves to go along.
One day she asked him…”You know how much I love to travel…
to experience all I can experience…to see all that I can see…
I don’t think I’ve ever asked you…do you love to travel as much as me….
“I look at every day as a new adventure.” He told her.
“It has never mattered what we do or where we travel to.”
“Whether we’re in the car, climbing a mountain or standing by the sea.”
Whether on a morning walk
listening to the birds
watching a butterfly or a bee….
Then he smiled…took her hands in his and said,
“All these years we’ve been together I guess I thought you knew…
“It has never mattered where we go…
as long as I’m with you.”
So few have ever understood me on a level well; so deep
Even less have I let witness my tears as they seep
They come forth in the darkness while others sleep;
Thoughts of you can be so elating when they creep
Finding the way out of them, climbing a chasm so steep
The glory amongst them is the harvesting I shall reap.
For the memory of that golden gaze, it is the one I shall forever keep.
It's within this lifetime; to love you is my most daring leap.
She takes hold, and then my strongest feelings sweep
To find a way to support her love, a life's goal, I must upkeep
Failing you is not an option, for if I did, filling a sorrowful well, I would forever weep.
Happiness is easily found in a multitude of the sweetest components
Grateful for you, often swept from the feats, of our hours, sharring meaningful moments
Your citrines comprised burning bright; scorching everywhere
As an orbited sphere; willed they are a perfect solar flare
Climbing a summit inside my thoughts; that is all you
Beside me, you wrap me up while we both enjoy the view
One could mine for eternity; excavating nothing valued; seeking a gem worthy of a crown
But, I would stop digging at the surface of the earth; if it matched your eyes, superfluous shade of brown
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