Listen for the hush where blessings gather.
Lift the quiet with their red and black polka dots.
Leap over twigs as if they’re mountains.
Leave faint anointings on the leaves they touch.
Loom as small messengers from softer realms.
Lend quiet blessings to wandering breezes.
Lead the day towards gentle good fortune.
Hungry souls love a large pot filled halfway with bottled water.
Add 3 12-ounce pkgs of savory mild Portuguese sausages, finely chopped,
While the pot is simmering on the stove, on medium-high heat.
Add a couple of diced ripe round onions
In a short while, add two cans of dark red kidney beans, then, as
It boils,
Add a tray of tiny, sweet, color-filled tomatoes, cleaned.
Next, set the stove to simmer.
Sets of two small cans of tomato sauce and a can of
Tomato paste, into the simmering pot
Yet, keep stirring the pot ever so often
Lastly, mix in two dry chili powders
Enclosed in packets.
Chili powder is stirred in until it is nicely blended.
Hot Chili Mix might be too strong, so medium or mild
Is best
Leave on the stove, well-mixed with the stove off.
It goes great with steamed whole-grain rice.
I cling like a coward to Life —
My sparrow -- won't leave the Eave —
Not for the Bread — not for the Air —
That dares me -- in You to Believe —
The Day is a precarious thing —
Balanced -- on its narrow Beam —
I hold it — as the dew holds Light —
Afraid to wake up from the Dream —
Courage is a distant Hill —
It looks like Home — from here —
Yet my small Hands prefer the stray Path
That keeps the Thunder near —
So when the Night inquires my Name —
I answer — with my silver Thread —
And stitch myself to Morning’s Hem —
Because — I am not dead —
Cursing in squirrel...
He's claimed the tulip tree for his own.
I've named him Putin.
He blames me when the petals fall.
When the weather turns foul. When the seeds are lean.
When sustenance heads deep underground.
He even blames me for his twitching tail and poor posture.
My roof is his autobahn.
It craps on my porch daily.
Chewed a hole in my gilded eave.
I once set out a live trap. And caught a skinny red robin instead...
From his tree, Putin twitched his hammer-and-sickle tail and laughed.
It's passed along the game to its progeny
They profit handsomely off my misery.
I patch the eaves...occasionally.
I think I'll bring in the steel teeth, put away the live traps.
And snap comrade Putin's little furry neck.
As a Smith and Wesson:
Weaponry;
Corralled and shooting out,
Every word to be;
She’s endowed,
With a round butt, and balcony;
So, harkens to hotness:
Her Summer eave;
Her beauty, to me, existentially,
Is like nature,
Or a green gable,
Canopy –
How Long a wait will my weak feet endure?
For many years On your snub I still wail.
Yet Veils of lies don’t cover your allure;
Your Elegance I still cannot but hail.
Your words Often fail to convey passion,
Your heart Remains closed off to compassion,
Since you Heave out too little in response,
Within the Arcade of hatred you ensconce.
With Time, you confound me more with your love,
Though Elusive, it descends from above.
"My poem is a hidden acrostic, Sponsored by: Crystol Woods. That's who its for.
I wonder how I will score." Quote by the poet.
_______________________________________________________________
The day is ending.Traveling done, no more roaming.
On the threshold 0f change, spirited emotions intensify,
Dusk and sunset, when They meet, it’s the gloaming.
As ominous silver streaks Weave across a sun soaked sky,
I settle to watch, Inspired by that instant moment,
When day gives over to night, Like a regal bestowment.
Lights Instantly shimmer, as we near twilight.
Across the horizon created a radiant Glow so bright.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby Hue.
Detailing an exquisite True crimson etched in view.
September falls within the best of times.
Elections nearing, campaigns underway;
Predictions, weather-wise for cooler climes.
Thus teachers, teens and toddlers break from play
Ere education calls their minds to grind.
Men have endorsed re-naming Labor Day;
But that’s September’s summons of a kind
Enlight’ning us of work that must go on
Regardless of what holiday we find.
Fall features color when the green is gone
And orange, yellow, red and brown have blessed.
Load up those fruits and walnuts and pecans;
Leave acorns for the squirrels building nests.
September brings to time its very best.
'Neath a banner wrought in darkness,
After eave has fallen nigh,
The chosen moment harkens,
To the insect's lullaby;
The cars abide in flight,
Like when clouds amount the sky;
I've imbibed the type of night:
A stillness whispered into sigh –
The squirrels' desire emphatic
To airbnb in the attic
Means a landlord may leave
Hors d'ouevres in the eave
That make their guests aromatic
The soul is craftsmanship, a complex filigree,
One moment it dances in laughter, and the next, no reaction spree.
It's the secretive goldsmith of emotions we weave day by day,
With wings of thoughts, while the tiniest feelings can make the balance sway.
Upon us, the eave of the sky sometimes heavily lies,
And yet, we resist, with a shield of will, under the stars and fogs that rise.
I fear, I do not possess this strength, I’m framed elsewhere,
My fluctuations are an ocean, with extreme waves, harsh and without spare.
My temperament battles with sensitivity in a vast sea,
A fight not at all easy, for the soul, it's nearly a calamity.
It's deeply etched in my essence, as fate has inscribed,
And perhaps it empowers me, to shape into words all that I've imbibed.
Protect me, humor, from too much honesty,
You are my shield daily, my safety strategy.
But empty would my universe be, if poetry had none to hear,
Without friends to share verse, life would be just a silent theater, drear.
Standing atop a blade of grass
Closing in toward the edge
Beard balancing a dangling ass
As it looms over the edge
Danger heeds below the passers by
Unknowing underneath the eave
A lightly plop from just up high
A souvenir before they leave
Vendors and markets as summer booms
Quirks and perks of a grass topped roof
The strife and life of the goats of Coombs
In the clackety clack of a mischevous hoof
F-riendly warfare unexpectedly break
R-eally from best friends to enemies
I- diotic and unnecessary drama
E-vil finger touch the lips of friends
N-o bad mouthing and hate speech
D- istraction and quarrels should cease
L-eave bad friends in peace and quietly
Y- ou better mind your own life
W-hen stop being close friends
A- void childish behavior of pull them down
R-eveal no secrets to gain sympathy
F-riendship can break at any given time
A-ccuse not past friends whatsoever
R-ubbish not their achievements in life
E-njoy your freedom to break from toxic friendship
The Cardinal, who loved a Rose
appeared to woo her one spring morn
but came too near a hidden thorn,
so eager she should hear his prose
He lit to sing but quick arose,
blood slick upon the wing he'd torn
She may as well have pierced his heart,
yet being a tenacious bird,
the Cardinal was not deterred
from love of his fierce counterpart
Though still he bled, he did impart
his song and once the Rose had heard,
he flew, unsteady, to the eave
lay down his head and took his leave
HEARTBREAKS:
Drowning in grief,
The ocean that tears beloveds apart.
Where promises are stolen from the eave,
By the thief who cometh busily from afar.
And it feels the end was without beginning,
Whiles the beginning ends without perceiving.
The hurt then shrinks the heart,
Causing its cells to fall flat.
The eyes throws away the beauties.
The mouth brings out the mysteries.
Disappointment then cancels the journey,
In a way seeming so funny.
Whereby love birds deserts crony.
And the disappointed individual's road becomes lonely.
Sub Categories
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.