Dewy Eyed Poems | Examples

In Praise

Humble as a teardrop,
Dewy eyed and singing 
Believing in the fulfillment
Found in listening
To the rain, the pain never
Erasing what is – what is
Like yesterday’s goodbye,
Faded beyond the sky
Where faith tumbles in breathless
Whispers, miracles
Inventions of the inspiration
Grown by hope, faith
Amazing like His grace
Never fading, always obeying
Endlessly praying – endlessly
Praising!

The Twin

My Twin

I have a twin brother who was never born to a great life
He waits till I sleep, ten appears watching a re-run of
“House on the prairie” makes him dewy-eyed, cries
at dawn, I have to blow my nose to get rid of his tears
What expect of a man who is forever thirty-five and
and didn’t have to struggle for a living.
Lately, he has taken to talk, my wife gets angry, wakes
me, like, it should be my fault, says I’m cynical that
I have lost faith in humanity; I tell him when I die, he
will die too.
He scoffs and says, “I can’t die because he never lived
I will rest among stars while you decompose in a grave.”

Lily Pond

Down by the only lily pond around here
the air is brisk and not particularly subtle
as it blows its windy nose.

It's not exactly a Monet painting
the setting is a little too municipal
and certainly not in winter,
but in a good light
it can be almost picturesque.

I conjure up some Debussy
replaying a favorite musical theme
in my slowly hissing mind
as it deflates and comes to rest.

In time, my thoughts
may dwell upon the pretty ladies
in their summer dresses
that sometimes visit
this unassuming spot,
but of course
not on a cold winters day.

No doubt I was born too late or early
to be a romantic
and my ass is getting chilled
on this stone bench

but damn it, with any luck
I will be back here in Spring
dewy eyed, and with
a melodic tune or song
pumping along
in my quixotic heart.

I might even bring the wife,
might even buy her a parasol.

Stretches of Silence

Dewy-eyed, dragged on
With gaze upon 
Spectre brighter than a noonday
I caught her soul entwined in the web
But lack what to say, like a play

Even with this swift communion of a babe
Entangled in the slying-coyness
I still let her feel the beat of my shyness
Trapped in the stillness of her eyes 

But not to let go for long
Holding onto parts rendered undone
In our vacant gaze towards the rising sun
Made more severe by the sudden bright ray shone

I know she could melt a heart as snow,
Bring me the stars if feelings were made to show
Her heart always as pure as gold
Yet, I let her vanished into her fold

Would she ever feel my absence?
Would I ever catch glimpses of her presence?
Oh, would she ever cross this path again?
For I have spent years hoping forever in the rain in vain.

The Smile At the Foot of a Ladder

the first step’s the sweetest
the ladder steady
not splintered
no thought
of the problems up at the top.

the foot is giddy
impish, tapping
with dewy-eyed toes.

under a frolicsome smile,
an ankle circles in mid-air,
daring the stare of his mother
as she cleaves to nine feet below.

4/23/2019
The Smile at the Foot of a Ladder Poetry Contest
Craig Cornish - Sponsor

Silence

Silence suckles sin
at dewy-eyed mother's breast.
Shame shatters love's hopes.

''Breath, Life and God Abide''

When I was dewy-eyed I longed for sex,
a kind of sex fit for a male virgin
who lusts for the head of a fair maiden
regardless of what may then transpire next;
but my quest for this sex became a hex
and so I bedded a rough whore in sin 
instead and succumbed to the act often
like a sex-starved satyr or male T. rex!
“O God, wherefore have I spoiled my body!?”
I pined and now rued the loss of purity
and was aware of lapse from the inside
and the lessons of this true irony.
But so long as breath, life and God abide;
Redemption saves despite that I have died.

Big Rabbit Sonnet

Big Rabbit Sonnet 
 Giant rabbits are not cute as you think when they 
are in a group then they sneer at us and make funny
noises aping human speech, they live in the forest
across the road and frightens hunting dogs.
The small village where I live is almost empty people 
have either died or moved to old folks home where
they live three people in each room and get beans and 
lard to eat the home`s owner lives on imported caviar.

The huge rabbits wanted to take the village over crossed
 the road and in the village square fought a battle with rats 
that claimed the place belonged them by ancient rights. 
A woman came out of one of a house kicked a rat lifted up 
a rabbit and the rest went dewy-eyed, the cuddly had won 
over the ugly, rabbits are edible rats not so much.

Strange Coldness Perplexing

the catholic nurse
all sensitive
caring noticing
everything
what can she think
of my hot/cold torment

always near blowing it
living in the fast lane
so friendly kind
the girls
dewy eyed
wanda abandoned me
bolton is in my hands

and yet my coldness
hurts
the more emotional
they stay
trying to find a reason
for my ice-like suspicion
fish eyes
coldly indifferent eyes
suspect everything that moves

socialising just to be loud
compensate for cold
lack of essential trust
warmth
i love them
despite myself
my desire to love
is unconscious and gigantesque

i never know
when i'm going to miss someone
strange coldness perplexing
i've got to work to get devotion
but once i get it
i really get people on my side
there are my people
who can survive
my shark-like coldness
and there are those
who want something
more personal
i can be very devoted to those
who can stay the course

my soul is aching
for an impartial love of people
i'm at war with myself.

("Strange Coldness Perplexing" was forged using notes scrawled onto seven sides of an ancient now coverless notebook sometime in the late 1980s, or early '90s).

Life, Breath and Hope Abide

When I was dewy-eyed I dreamt of love,
of a kind of love fit for a virgin
for whom romance betrays no vice or sin--
or for God to curse and speak evil of.  
But I, rebuked and reviled as from above 
by Providence, lost as Misfortunes won; 
Having quit all hope for love's boon, I spun 
myself astray on the wings of Lust's dove 
into the rough lap of a subtle whore,
a strumpet to whom I gave my purity 
who mocked me and then grinned with the three-score
more she's had,--I howled, "What cruel irony!"
      But so long as life, breath and hope abide,
      love will come; and when it comes--it'll provide!

Unfailing

While peeling
an orange I think of
you all time.

Walking in ruins
I pick up peonies
in grass, for you.

Dewy-eyed you
call for a knife in night.
It was full moon.


Satish Verma

My Treasure Chest

My treasure chest is slowly filling up
Silly letters I wrote to my friends
Not passed on to them, 
Thinking, they know what they mean to me
Maybe I should have, maybe I still will.

First love letter from a lad in school
Saying my eyes attracted him
My smile and my sense of humour
For the life of me his name escapes me.
Love is so  fickle when your young.

Sweet wrapper, cinema tickets,
Tickets to the zoo, I loved that orang utan
Boris was his name. He has since died.
Photos by the dozen, family, friends,
Places I have visited, a small poem describing each place.

My first and last love's photos, letters, memories.
Words written down just in case my memory fails.
Memories of my university days, written down to remember
Graduation as a staff nurse, photos with an enormous smile on my face
Proudly wearing my uniform.

Nowadays, its poetry I put in my treasure chest
my words are where my life is portrayed
One day I will be dewy-eyed in love again
One day I will be a mother, then my treasure chest will be closed
Will have living memories to look at, my life will be fulfilled


Treasure chest - somewhere we store important phases of our lives

Romance

Silver stars are dancing—
Oh, the night is for romancing!
Lovers, fate are chancing
and from eye to lip are glancing,
hoping for a taste,
and the blood begins to race.

The water soft is gushing 
on Night’s shores, quietly rushing.
Lovers’ cheeks are blushing,
their faces close are flushing,
locked in a gaze,
eyes begin to blaze.

The moon is brightly shining
on fingers intertwining.
Lovers inhibitions are resigning,
on mossy banks reclining,
possessed of a day,
Eros’s dewy-eyed prey.

The perfumed breeze is blowing,
the red blood quick is flowing.
Lovers’ gentle aspects glowing,
and time seems to be slowing.
Unknowingly afraid
to let the feeling fade.

The Fox,The Wolf,The Coyote

The Fox  1
Crab holes on the bank….
Furry trap inserted in ,
Wonder blunder ends.

The Fox   2
Thick bushes distant….
Fox nose moves among the twigs to
Get a prey vanquished.

The Fox   3
The fox howls at night….
Trumpet of win over
A dewy-eyed rabbit.

The Wolf  1
Lamb in the pasture….
From the darkness of forest
Death jumps upon fast.

The Wolf  2
Wood smiles in full moon….
Wolf eyes glare among foliage,
Savage beauty lures.

The Wolf   3
Marauding wolf steps….
The soul dances wildly, and
Brute taste oozes out.

The Coyote   1
The distant coyote….
Pointed ears and sharp claws are
Coming to the end.

The Coyote     2
The coyote walks alone….
Seclusion of the woods, but
Evaded though followed.

The Coyote    3
Night howl pierces spring….
Ecstatic movements on hush,
The coyote mounts high.

(For ‘My Inner Animal Contest’ by P. D.)

FABIYAS M V

Prozac

A candid confession from you,
when your identity started protruding
from innocent rage.

You were accepting defeat
without a fight.

The lips tell the grief of human failure,
your prudence propped up
by Prozac.

A beautiful collection of anxieties
adorned on the shelf of life.

A cruise in veins
to dispel the high cholesterol
dewy-eyed mirror
and ambulating pain.


SATISH VERMA

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