Encircles Poems | Examples

Our Better Angels

There is still human kindness in the world
Offering help with wings of hope, unfurled
No glowing golden halo encircles their head
But they give courage to those facing dread

Some have a graceful gift that lights a spark
when others struggle, trying to escape the dark
Our better angels have no trace of greed
when despondent ones are filled with great need

Often, our better angels are strangers who smile
Or come to us in the innocence of a young child
A compassionate soul puts a hand on yours or mine
Someone with a tender heart, who is not Devine.

From sympathetic eyes they see teardrops fall
Sadly, some without empathy will be no help at all
There's hope that we may be such an angel one day
when someone's world has been colored in gray

Our better angels put aside bigotry and hate
Offering help when it's needed to compensate
those in need of a friend or in a time of fear
To be a helping angel, take time to lend an ear

It takes a generous person with a kind heart
who will never hesitate, their assistance to impart
their shining light gleaming in the darkest mist
Then, we know by a better angel we've been kissed

Our Better Angels

On this radiant moment, a ceiling
of new moon beguiles the park-lane
where the breeze tosses its wings,
lit by a fluorescent in a haze I can't
comprehend--- a whip of angst encircles
my despair unrelenting to the beat
of a warm summer eve so glorious;

and yet, my spirit drowns from pain,
from the absence of love 's loss in ruins--
there is no recourse except tear
my life, amble alone in the stab of dusk;

Till a streetchild's voice blows through
my hardened ear-- soft, soothing--
that my inner tempest releases
a spark...his angelic presence rivering
through  fresh mist alive with young eyes
dipped in joy: this waif without a name
offers a mangled grip of blooms, a smile
haunting as it is giving: in freeze of night,
I find one of  earth's better angels
amidst this heartburst  almost suspended by
time's daring request to snuff my hours!

Imagination

        Quote By Albert Einstein
Imagination is more important than knowledge.
Knowledge is limited.
Imagination encircles the world.

A treasure trove of worlds is in our mind.
On any given day we all can find.
An interlude, where we would rather be.
It just takes our imagination see!
If we are feeling down, then we can fly.
To some idyllic place where we don’t cry
Or when we’re happy, felling brave, and bold.
Imagine all the love we then can hold.
Our stories and the poems we all make.
Comes from imagination we create.

WAYS OF PROVIDENCE

WAYS OF PROVIDENCE
Poem written for “This or That Poetry Contest,” Edward Ibeh, sponsor, 7/22/2025

“God planted the seeds of all the trees, and you see to what a height and shade they have grown! So, it is with the Bible. You may read a verse this year, and forget it, and it will come back to you a year hence, when you least expect to remember it.”  James Fenimore Cooper, The Deerslayer
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nestled in the soil of my heart, God, the Divine Gardener, 
lays seeds of wisdom, each verse a tiny promise, 
waiting for the rain of remembrance.

Time passes by like a feather in the wind, 
and as a traveler, I recall a line, a verse~
a glimmer of truth that suddenly comes to light. 

It encircles my heart like a vine of grace, 
reminding me that seeds planted in my soul's soil
await providence and the right season to sprout.

Oh, my heart remembers, just as trees remember the rain!
And here I am, growing beneath the shade 
of the proverbial wisdom of God.

The Forgotten Soul -made couple of months ago!!

Alone I rot, yet no one cares to see,
The darkness deep within me.
I reach for loving hands,	
Yet all I get is emptiness in these dark lands.

My voice is lost like whispers on the sea.
The wind may howl,
But no one will think of me.

I am a forgotten soul,
Never to feel whole.
They dance in warmth, while night encircles me,
never letting me feel glee.

Never help, never care,
leaving me in despair.
And when I cry,
I feel as if I wish to die.

I search for happiness,
yet I still feel nastiness.
All I ask for is one chance,
yet all I get is a glance.

Some have their joy untouched
By sorrow’s cruel design.
But I never feel divine.
Alone I rot, yet no one cares to see,
the darkness deep within me.

Twiddled Hearts

Giant heart encircles
large and small hearts standing green
squirrels' abode intact.

*

misty day

Misty Day
Glancing out of the window, I see the potted plant
 on the sill and the house on the other side of
 the road, the light is fading, and the plant looks as
 sad as a whitewashed wall in the rain whiteness
 is an illusion caused by the sun.
Mist of grief encircles olive trees, are blank
 tears on my almond tree´s spindly twigs, yet inside
 each droplet sees a tiny world reflecting my own,
 only with greater incorruptibility of the untested.
 And far away, as a whisper, a mother sings a lullaby.

« O

Some things shatter, some things bloom

Crushed.
Dust chokes the air
And encircles the vicinity

Burnt.
Charred and battered.
A blackened stump,
The remains of what once was alive.

Hacked to pieces.
Still, lifeless—
Left to die

Will you still bloom?
Will you rise from the ruins,
Brush off the kiss of death?
Will you cling on to the fact that—
You still breathe?

Get up.
They crushed you.
They burnt you—
Tried to turn you to ash,
Hacked you to pieces,
But still—you stand.

Stand tall.
Raise that head high.
You overcame what no man ever did— 
A living testimony.

Narrowly escaping your own death
You fought—
You fought the obstacles, the trials, the stones meant to hurt you
 
And yet—you bloomed.

Sacrifice

Sacrifice

Today I sacrifice my martyrdom. 
Today I cleanse my soul, 
Release the past and reach for the new. 
I'll look for the life I'm entitled to.

 I rise above my delusions. 
Pettiness and jealousy flee. 
I banish the painful illusions that
For so long have imprisoned me.

I am now free and unencumbered. 
Today I reach for the stars.
A life of joy encircles and uplifts me, 
Erasing all the painful scars.

 I will live this day. 
Truly live it, as if it were my very last.
Though engulfed by meaningless fears
 I'm no longer a prisoner of my past. 

I now face my shrinking terror.
Today I step toward the light. 
There's nothing left to run from and no more 
Snarling, powerless demons left to fight.

I take my life into my hands. 
Breathe deeply in Universal Breath. 
Every thought, every person, place and thing 
Now rings with Divine significance.

I know that Divinity dwells with my spirit.
Today God smiles behind my eyes.
And looks upon the new birthed world 
With mirth, with pity, with joy, and expansive life. 

Today, I will live.

Chula Fleming© 10/16/2012

For the love of Katie

In the heart of a garden, where dreams unfold,
Katie wanders, her spirit free and bright.
White gold adorns her, a tale untold,
Glistening softly in the moon's gentle light.

Roses bloom in hues of crimson and white,
Their fragrance a symphony in the air.
Katie's touch, tender and light,
Turns each petal into a whisper, a prayer.

White gold, a promise of love's pure embrace,
Encircles her wrist, a delicate chain.
Roses blush at the sight of her grace,
In her presence, all sorrows wane.

Katie, white gold, and roses entwined,
A vision of beauty, timeless and true.
In this garden of wonders, love defined,
A story of elegance, forever anew.

Hazy Shade Memories

Written: May 03, 2024

                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isolated each aspect—bereft of any link,
An ambrosian aura encircles an empty clink.

Lenses produce rippling prisms out of embrace,
They glide through a quivering mind—arcane case.

Someone has trapped an aura in an optical hall,
Awareness is molded by external gaze—it recalls.

Whispers of sunshine and shade intertwined,
Cast shadows and advise on edges—undermined.

Memories faded into a sepia hue—silence now,
The howling gusts serve as audible avows.

This ancient wind originates from the past,
Weighed down by sorrow—of dwindling cast.

Smiles in darkness—as tongues held quiet,
Time is ethereal, and memories are defiant.

A sepia-hued whisper-echo beckons me,
An aureate beleaguer core is to foresee.

Pika

Black is the color of the ground
Which encircles the placid lake.
Volcanic cinders now surround
Desolate earth formed by raging quake.

Large rocks, silhouettes on the shore,
Provide shelter for small critters.
A place for winter's yearly store.
A place where pikas raise their litters

Lassen Park, a home for pikas
Who run around all summer long
Gathering supplies as fast as
The warm rays of the sun remain strong.

The extensive snows of winter
Trap the pikas safe in the den,
Where stored food is now their center.
When snow melts, an escape will open.

Though forced beneath the rocks to dwell,
The pika plans his life quite well.





*the pika is a very small lagomorph that is related to a rabbit.

Endless road

Endless road goes far beyond 
It encircles sea and land,
Does it? For a true respond
Check it out if you can
The blue bus keeps going on
Driving through the shaded streets 
Their wet pavements soon be gone
Then across the sunlit fields
Road continues, passing by
Farms and cottages, and groves
Maybe I should wonder why
For how many miles it goes
Blue horizon turns to sea
Now it’s time to leave the bus
From a cliff I clearly see
A white boat that waits for us
Homeless refugees, we travel
As if sent to find a stay
Fate is useless to unravel 
It won’t change a single day.

Old age

Old Age
=======

Time will not stand still,
Moving ahead all the time.
Once it  starts it's journey,
No one can intervene.

Before we could realize,
Old age encircles us.
With forgetfulness,
slowness and traits.

When new friend engulfs us,
 Organs begin to withdraw 
 from their regular duties, 
Memory says bye to everyone.

All are not fortunate
To enjoy it's entry.
Old age is not destined
To all the human beings.

MIRO titlista 48-55 -1

sun
  gnaws
diamond
               smiles
bird flies
  moon covers
skidding
    down
pierces
   encircles
sparkling thought
in
   pursuit

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