A whisper of the falling rains
Scripts a pattern etched on the panes;
The ocean's tidal ebb and flow
Carve a design that ever glow.
The gentle sway of summer grass,
As fleeting winds serenely pass,
Slices shapes with a silken art,
A tiny, intricate, true heart.
The stars above, in silent flight,
Are set in patterns of the night,
The constellations, old and grand,
A story told across the land.
The pulsing beat within our chest,
A steady pattern put to test,
The breath we draw, the air we share,
A silent promise in the air.
So let`s learn patterns from nature
To carve diverse shapes and structure;
In every moment, small or great,
We find our truth, we seal our fate.
The sun knelt in reverence.
She lived a moment's breath, no more.
Bravely took her final journey.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2026
The ebb and flow, a ceaseless art,
That shapes our voyage, plays its part,
We catch the surge, a fleeting gleam,
Or drift along a silent dream,
Providence grand, beyond our hold,
A story age old, to unfold.
From atop the great tall sequoias
dragonflies fantasize of summertime;
of warmer mornings and balmy winds,
while dodging flycatchers and bullfrogs.
A lone cicada sings his mating sonnet
upon the ebb and flow of life's circle.
Even if a fierce rain subdued at its core beats against me
do not open the window and welcome it
Even if a wind bowed and gently gathered comes seeking me
do not unfold the crumpled memories
Even if wrinkled years pull at my shoulders
like the ebb tide drawing away do not look back
When death like a mothers embrace murmurs softly
hold it while sharpening the dulled life
Fold life and death together
Conflict bears messages
to be discerned;
revelation lies in the spirit.
The soul is the gatekeeper
of the spirit; bear your soul
and let the spirit of love flow.
Forgiveness does not require
forgetfulness;
memory is the flowing river
of growth.
The sea of life is inundated
with waves of conflict—
flowing to shores of resolution
with frothing memories;
There is no unsolvable conflict
in the ebbing and flowing
of the seemingly tidal waves of life;
We may not always be
where we want to be—ought to be;
but we are never always
where we once were:-
Remember, it is the wisdom
of the spirit that gives
understanding and healing;
The soul is the gatekeeper
of the spirit; bear your soul
and let the spirit of love flow;
And when that flow froths awareness
of what is and what it is that should not be
It’s time to correct life’s frothing ebb and flow:-
Every morning when we wake,
There’s no way for us to know
Which direction we will take
Or how the day will ebb and flow.
Maybe someone’s feeling sick
Or possibly, the car won’t start.
Stressors wait - just make your pick,
For they can tear your world apart.
Or you’ll get the greatest news
And there’ll be smiles and shouts and hugs.
Sadly, we don’t get to choose
Among the highs and lows and shrugs.
Yet we deal with what we get
And somehow, through it all, we cope
Because our fortune’s never set
And for tomorrow - there is hope.
Flow and Ebb
Nib and Tuck
Never Ending
Cause and Affect
Friend or Foe
She chose to think his sweet talk lies were cute…
that things he said had value worth pursuit.
that substance would emerge, somewhat astute.
And while his words of love she wants to feel…
she ambles through their world hoping to heal.
She fears his selfish frost is hard as steel.
These past three years recalled with misty eyes…
he goads her daily even as she cries;
he begs excuse but sneers with compromise.
His conversation scars with bogus blame.
it mocks them both for trust has turned to shame;
it gags her voice, so silence is her game.
She made a promise, hoping that somehow
her mate would change. She’ll never break her vow.
their ebb and flow, a water show
the sprinkler’s rhythms hypnotize
a blade of grass digests a drop
young flowers vibrate, start to grow
around me sparkle prisms bright
pure colors changing in the light
I wish this day would never die
and life’s illusions veil their lie
~ iambic tetrameter ~
One thing I've learned here on the Soup
The moods of the site ebb and flow
Depending on so many unknown factors
It can be fast and it can be slow
Response to our poems surely won't always
Predict the popularity of the piece
A great title, as I've suggested many times
Is key for the success of your release
I'm no expert but been a member since 2012
I've noticed some repetitive patterns
Limericks and other stuff can get attention
But simple rhymes it's praise they do earn
So what I have found since the beginning
To get read it helps to add humour
No need for words that no one understands
That's always been just a rumour
So simplicity rules and does every time
Main goal is to be understood
Communication is the word I'm looking for
In this poetry neighbourhood
They say that life is short, and yet,
If you’re like me, I’d place a bet
That childhood seems so long ago
You can’t recall its ebb and flow.
Of course, some days stand out, for sure,
When good or bad things we’d endure,
But how we lived from day to day?
That knowledge somehow’s slipped away.
Our current lives rush by so fast,
Which seems okay; the die’s been cast,
Though younger folk, with years ahead,
Will, too, grasp childhood by a thread.
Up the shore the rhythmic tide strides.
Twice a day, the army marches in succumbing.
Then retreats, tail between its legs, discharging
Its grip and flooding embrace, releasing, disengaging,
It's ebb and flow, a never-ending sleep-breath sigh.
The tide's hidden master and conductor is the moon.
A general seldom seen leading the troops on the battlefield
Rending the tide as irresponsible, willful and unaccountable.
A creature wail-fully uncaring, inconsiderate, wayward in consequence.
In the woe betide comes, seeping into the castle moats and holes dug by kids
Flushing away the fun of seashore frolics,
dampening the joy and the shrill of beach laughter
reminding us that there has to be a morning after,
After the coming,
someone, not me
has to
clean up
the
mess
and ebb
to bed.
All the moons shone bright in the sky
above the ones that worshipped her;
Their ebb and flow will amplify
all the moons shone bright in the sky;
As twilight’s paint brush starts to dry
it collects dreams with a whisper;
All the moons shone bright in the sky
above the ones that worshipped her.
.
Waves
Wash 'pon
shore
Rhythmic
Ebb and flow
As life's
Waves
Also
Have a rhythm
Birth, childhood, teens
If granted
Adult.
Death,
Then what
Forever
Somewhere
'Pon
Gold streets
Or
Hebrews 9:27
King James Version
27 And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment:
Date written: 03, 03, 2023
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Contest: Waltz Wave
Checked with HowManySyllables and Grammar Checker
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