Crisply Poems | Examples

Friends of frogs

Written for the contest: Alliteration Nursery rhyme
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Contest Judged:  11/6/2024 12:00:00 AM
Placement: 1st



For friends and folks of foolish forests' frogs! 

Darkness deals with your dusty dirty wares,
Shadows shine, shimmering in sheering sears,
Stars twinkle topmost on the tossing trees,
To crisply cuddle the blistering breeze.

Fearless forests friends forbid foolish spies,
Listen long, lively laughter lifts no lies,
Even evenings eager to call you fools,
And shame the sour scents of your playing pools.

Ban any boot of blame from your long legs,
Many mysterious mouths mock your eggs,
Hidden hearts hum horrible haunting hymns,
While their fears for you fret on fragile limbs.

Godly ghosts guests fought fetish friends and folks, 
Fresh fears then froze your frantic frenzy croaks,
Marring you from making mendacious cry,
While waiting where the worst will walk you by.

A leaves goodbye

Catastrophe, no I'm not bitter
                The wind caresses my margins 
                Children tickle my cold veins 
                I float to the terrain 
                For Oak Kin to thrive 
                I say crisply
                I'm charcoal 
                Goodbye 
                Time

Autumnal Morning

                                       gold leaf impressions
		                  spiral crisply through cooled wind~                                    
                                           leaving stormy piles

                                       misty crimson dawn striking
                                          embraces foggy notion

I Love You Octoberly

I want you to know
That I love you more 
Than all of my Octobers
Which is not to say
There are a lot of them
Even though there are
But what I mean is

I love you more warmly
Than hot cinnamon apple cider
On a brisk autumn morning
When I can just see my breath

I love you more festively 
Than pumpkins, gourds
And Indian corn
Decorating a porch

I love you more crisply 
Than the crunch of brown
And red and yellow leaves
Underneath my boots

But most of all
I love you more deeply
Than the good candies
I keep digging for
All the way down
To the bottom of the pillowcase
During the long walk home
At the end of the night
After all of the front stoops
Have gone dark.

Xylophone

Xanadu may exude such percussive bliss
Youthful romps and a coy stolen kiss
Lightly tapping in jaunty melifulous splendor
Orpheus muse prances playfully tender
Pounding with swift light jazzy flourishes
Heart and soul the xylophone nourishes
Oblivious to troubles I cannot stop my feet
Notions of love brightly swing to the beat
Each crisply chimed note a gift beyond sweet

The Button Down Shirt

the button down shirt
crisply pressed and impressive -
backwards, inside-out

Artistic Touch

Delving down deep into the inkwell of our cavernous hearts

A cascade of colors crisply careen out creating a crescendo 

To fill the blank canvas awaiting us all on the easel of life

Vicarious

The images come into view,
        so crisply, sharp displayed;
Soon, but an after-image glow,
        as they begin to fade…

If blue’s the hue, the story ends -
        you wake up in your bed,
but Wonderland and rabbit-holes
        lurk in the shadows red.

Vicarious, this online life,
        soft edges, hard construed.
Yet, disconnected from the world,
        life slips away from you.

For those who plant the garden rows,
    this story’s incomplete.
When you plant shovels in the ground,
    most times, dirt’s underneath.

Silvan Dam

under a broad sign “Silvan Reservoir Park” 
I turn the steering wheel and see wristwatch hands 
pointing to a quarter past three in the afternoon 
there is enough time for tea and biscuits by the dam 
before sunset slowly erases 
colours from the Dandenong Ranges 

I suppose this is where I crush autumn leaves
(some red and some green)
quite crisply and cleanly
on the base of my leather-strap boots 
and I step onto the warm silvan lawn 
over small yellow patches
where sunlight burnt holes in the grass
“lay the blanket down there”
where words have not been uttered
in several decades

this is where I learnt to play catch 
by the force of a hard red cricket ball 
on nervous, shaking hands 
I hope to hold onto one today

listen to the wind rustle the trees
and that cyclical rhythm
oo-oo-aa-aa-aa
when kookaburras laugh 
as if to say “I see you, dear”

and what I say 
when the clock is well past three 
and colours are erased 
and the woods are not familiar to me 
is that here in Autumn 
is heaven on earth

A Gentleman's Trappings

A Gentleman's Trappings

Crisply pressed suits hang in a dark closet
Starched white shirts lie untouched in dresser drawers
Bland ties hang limply awaiting his touch
Highly shined black shoes and socks neatly arranged 
These trappings of a gentleman gone to the grave
All waiting to be claimed by the Good Will thrift store

Copyright ©2008 Don Tyson

Early Fingers Make Flowers of All Things

THE tongue makes 
words so hungry
but
i love you 
and
i hate you
//a charter crisply straying
jig-saw shape across the secret-corner 
promises a love for you 
when with you i do not wish to be
but the bedroom's secretly
moist eyes are kissingly 
playing with me _____
and hope is a thief while top-turved
insides need the pleasant 
surprise to be; thy lips a sweet
thing death, wait here\\

Devices

I want to start with some simple Alliteration
seaside surf in winter is so very crisply cool
(try to fix find and fit some Personification
your wandering mind is a rambling fool).

Assonance very tense, it has much suspense
salty sands please even with winter’s breeze
(suppose I propose musing using Consonance
dismiss this I confess it does not please this).

Then in a Conceit I will write for you just to spite
the wide sea is a cold lover retreating from me.
(then why not Hyperbole? It is a lions’ might
cry a river of tears, I over this poem from thee!).

A Metaphor I have found I can always borrow
a sea of troubles rage for me on this winter morn
(Simile is just as good good today and tomorrow
he is like a bright moonbeam, shining on my scorn).

He does not like my effort here what of my Meter?
I leave the sea; to me I love the oceans’ sweet revelry
(Scansion done you have won a little love sweeter
for undoing moving and removing this piece from me).


(click on the pic to preview my poetry book)

An Autumn Crisp and Clean

As Autumn scents return to me once more    
sending me to a sweet October brush
infringing on each leaf the earthen floor    
of reds and golds collect me in their rush;
While breezes raise the feathers off a thrush
I harbor long and sweet by rivers end
just basking in  the moment of Godsend;
Firing up my senses with cooling love,
she's crisply cleans my soul with her portend    
then makes my hands infit inside my glove.

The Songbird of Dawn

THE SONGBIRD OF DAWN

In autumn’s air crisply thin, with wings spread skyward
flies low little cheery Robin, migratory charming songbird.
The bird of bright daylight tweeters with sunburst zest,
keeps the secrets of avian delight in silky scarlet breast.
When thrushes are silent it sings to the flux of first sunray, 
the carol for dawn’s advent, in wind the notes drift away.

Little Robin on swinging tree sings as storm clouds garner,
flutters on rhythm of melody when rainbow colors appear.
Red bird on bough perched high outside my window I see,
sings sunrise song sailing by, ushers jubilant new day for me. 

February 19, 2019

Resonance of Memory

The moon is full tonight, the air soft and warm;
Though in a distant city, it feels like home.
Memories of nights when the moon paraded in 
Glory above distant trees promenade through my
Mind, like the couples and families along the banks
Of the Danube, bring the bitter sweet song of 
Nostalgia.
The evening wanes and the soft ivory disk hardens, 
Rising higher into the sky, now crisply white, cold
And unforgiving, the crowd a little quieter, walking
Faster as though to escape its baleful eye.
The air takes on a chill; it is time to wind up the hill
To my temporary home, the image of the newly
Rising moon, softly made, yet pleasing my mind.

• Short Crisply Poems
• Famous Crisply Poems
• Best Crisply Poems
• Read Crisply Poems
• Long Crisply Poems
• Crisply Quotes