intrusive elements enwrap me nauseating wholesomeness will you retrench my dreary blitheness contortion ?
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 6–12, 2026)
intrusive elements enwrap me
Nauseating wholesomeness
will you retrench my dreary bicoloured contortion ?
enwrap wholesomeness wisely
compromise can contradict inerrant blitheness
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 6–12, 2026)
Petals are jewelled like embroidered frills;
Globes of mirages enwrap the limbs.
The face is flushed with kisses of chills;
With glass ice pearls, the quivering heart brims.
The wintry gust shakes her convulsing self;
Into melting icicle drops they weep.
As though the footfalls of an unseen elf,
Mysteries from sepals and petals peep.
Within the weak physique's softening chime,
The spirit is alive, though choked by frost.
Will winter last beyond its destined time?
Rebellion stirs beneath, though charm seems lost.
Will buried rainbows pierce this frozen shrine,
Or does the frost shroud all that used to shine?
In my wake, if i were to awaken,
O' wakeful wonder to wrench mine withered eyes
Aware'f the withering summer haze
Out in my bright eyed future, out in my cross toe'd path
Pompous poppies t'prop mine withering body
Lest f'saken soil shall chance this chance and enwrap thy very soul
Whole, wholly in unholy disrepair
Where thy feet ne'er make a pair
In my wake, where bottomless bile surely shalln't sate,
Grace be with grace whereth fate form'd nigh near'r thy hate
voracious, inherent, timbered'n barrels
Embedded beneath thy bedded tomb t'ferment
Fraught feminal petticoats bed thy bones'n skin, t'sit within
Barrelled quarrels quashed'n quaint fricatives,
T'lace these afaced wicked motives.
Foot befitting feet b'fore foolish faces reverberate foolish vows
F'petty petticoats liven' lieu'f laced love.
In my latent wake,
Tend t'the petty posies
T'prop mine body
Towards th'lascerating ladle'f love,
And into th'deepening dish'f self-hate.
24//8//25
“The fervent garden grieves as the frail flowers called love
enwrap the shards of broken heart” – Quote by poet
The rhapsody of rainbow morphs into morose mélange,
bleeding colors bleached from the twilight zone clouds
that rainstorm daubs as blemish on dilapidated essence
when the shades of grey paint the frayed linen of love.
The requiem of roses resonates in melancholic medley,
the petals pine for dripping tear drops of mourning dew,
desiccating in somber sunshine in the deserted mind,
while the fallen flowers make frail bouquet of passion.
Cacophony encapsulated in the cauldron of mute melody,
chaotic symphony dismantles on the discord waves of desire.
Strained smiles sneer the scarred scenario of the senile life,
music turns to convoluted noise echoed by the battered soul.
As you drift away blowing a devastating storm of apathy,
my fervor is fragmented to lie in the debris of ecstasy.
The lattice of life seen through the languid cynic lens
magnifies into the crooked contortion of decrepit heart.
Across the wandering life’s changing dynamic landscape,
I traversed following the footprints of destiny
the tortuous pathway in the undulating topography,
that winded for me, tracking the trail of racing time
to the amorphous future, taking the ordained shape,
Many streams in spate I had swam with passion
across the waves of somber squall.
With the buds of nascent hope clutched close to heart.
I chased butterflies in the blooming valley of flowers,
with dreams flying through the rainbow archway.
Drifting with the whistling wind in the forest,
the radiant rays from the sunburst sky
seeped in to enwrap me with ecstasy.
Navigating the wasteland at night I found your arms,
I saw love glow on dew in my meadow at dawn.
The spent sun sinks at the edge of the twilight zone,
across the disappearing trail of the time past,
marked by the fading footprints of fulfillment.
Walking the last mile, I’ve reached the point of no return,
the weary footsteps can’t take me back.
We dress our souls with masks of words, as if covering our bodies with fine garments,
Every morning, we choose masks from the closet of the heart, full of unspoken stories,
Words are embroideries stitched onto the fabric of life, hiding the fragility that lies within us,
We place the masks upon our hearts like veils that filter the light of truth and shadows,
We are artists of appearances, painting on the canvas of the soul with shades of deep silence,
Beneath the masks of words, the face of truth is a broken mirror, hidden in silent gazes,
We fear being bare, stripping our souls of the garments of words that enwrap us,
Yet beneath the layers, we harbor a universe of dreams and desires, a cosmos of unrest,
Truth is a song that resonates muted within us, smothered by the masks that stifle our whispers,
We learn to dance between the light of sincerity and the shadow of pretense that defines us,
In the end, remains the desire to reveal ourselves as we truly are, letting the masks fall,
And perhaps, we will dare to be honest with ourselves, gazing into the mirror of the soul.
Amidst the bright light and the sumptuous summer sunshine,
Why does the beam gleam of the thin rays of darkness enwrap?
The sturdiness of our bones fails, as though we've lost our spine.
Our inner sanctum is erased from our location map.
Blood clotted, mouths unable to utter secrets, we pine
With hopes and hopelessness, like eggs in a single basket,
Fate and destiny, playing their roles as per their design
We store our unfulfilled desires like gems in a casket.
Tracing the trails of the 'if you can't beat them, join them' route
Like challengers and the challenged, we tread on trodden roads.
Have the bubble, we've been blowing, a permanent pursuit?
Pessimism, through each lane, like an atomic bomb, explodes.
The closed doors of impending expectant dooms be disclosed.
Feelings of friendliness even to the foes be enclosed.
With elements of earth, water, air, ether, and fire
The body is framed like a bundle of paradoxes.
The soul, the lord, and the master of this self soar higher.
When its mission, herein, is accomplished as flummoxes
Diseases, like swarms of honey bees, enwrap this physique.
These, like water on lotus leaves, don't affect the spirit.
Though veins, bones, and nutrients are full, the physique seems weak.
Existence, herein, passes like a clandestine claret.
Deep sleep drubs the body, but the spirit is on the move.
Beyond mountains and valleys, like a tender breeze, it blows
From all that is known to the unknown, narrow furrow grove
Journeying towards perfection, like a fountain, it flows
Entering another body, the soul gladly exists.
Physique, as the spirit's wagon, wins over all the twists…
Lush green verdant hills of peace
beneath lavender skies of
linen and oleander gentle pink
inside my seaside windy garden nook
a gift for Pythia, high priestess of Greece
Flower of Olympian Gods
growing here both wild and free
symbol of hope you were Apollo's choice
as he weaved you in a crown for Daphne
she turned into a laurel tree with roots
Infant stem of glaucous bloom
flower of enlightenment
and hope, come fill my haven with sweet bless
enwrap me with your oleander charms
avail me to your heady toxicant
Oh bud of hallucinate
matter, how fatal you are
evergreen shrub of median highways
stay with me until the mid autumn comes
tough and vigorous as you are dear shoot
you are a potent flower,
deserving respect and truth.
A beach ball stuck in the rafters of the pool,
been there for many years in the oblivion cool.
It contains the breath of an unknown person,
in the blowing wind the spirit still lives on,
as the vestige of the gone lingers in the obscurity.
I’ve been in many places as an anonymous entity,
people have seen me but haven't known my identity.
On the instances of time I left the footprint
with relicts of fragmented me that still might glint,
although the owning light has disappeared.
In the twilight hour the shadows of my presence
I perceive enwrap the indelible essence
I left in those places where I never went back,
but they got etched in some mind’s track,
keeping them engraved unfaded.
If I meet some of them now passing me by
I’d like to ask who and what was I
in that moment of my life when our paths crossed,
when they got pieces of me on a forgotten day lost
that perpetuates in the time continuum.
I find happy people weave nostalgia tapestry
of the unforgotten with the threads of memory
as I do with strands of the past in times of retrospection,
stitching the pieces left to make the collage of the one
who existed there and then.
To be in clover as the soft wind blows -
my love beside me underneath blue sky.
Each minute as it quickly comes and goes
we give no thought to, for in love we lie
with scent of meadow flowers in the air.
We watch the clouds drift, naming forms we see.
Tranquility and gladness find us there.
No other place would I prefer to be.
His arms enwrap me as it’s growing cold.
His eyes meet mine; I shiver with delight.
Behind a mountain slides the sun - once gold.
The moon appears. It rises with the night,
and passion in our own souls starts to climb.
Can any day be any more sublime?
Unfaded colors of years enwrap you with grace,
like a leaf tinged by twilight you glow on birthday.
I float on reverie, encircling you on wings of zephyr,
I write this pulsating poem of heart just for you.
As we soak the glimmer of the emerald meadow,
you become the pristine patina of the dainty dawn.
Even in twilight hour the golden day doesn’t end,
for in my sky you’re the sanguine sun that never sets.
While the flowers wither in my autumn garden,
in you I see the blossoms of the everlasting spring,
where my yearning flitters like the beguiled butterfly
around your floral charisma that never wanes.
In the voyage across the tempestuous sea of life,
I don’t lose course sailing to the shore of longing.
I shall reach its silver beach lapped by waves of joy,
for you’re my alluring pole star that never strays.
In the desiccated desert over the dunes of despair
my satiated heart doesn’t chase the mirage of fervor,
for my soul has found the fountain of flowing bliss
in the delightful oasis that you’ve become for me.
September 4, 2021
Contest : A Poem To Your Spouse On His-Her Birthday
Sponsor : Funom Makama
Moonbeam splits the somber cloud
sketches shimmering silver lines
satin sky holds the light in delight.
On the crest of waltzing waves
fluid pearls enwrap pieces of moon
sea sends the sparkle to the shore.
June 21, 2021
Contest : Bite Size Poem No. 8
Sponsor : Line Gauthier
Summer Succumb
Segue Cicadae,
Enwrap in sunray,
Warble a tuneful "Hooray!",
Solstice sing-song night/day,
Hydrangeas on display,
Honeysuckle blooms bouquet
Melons savor away,
Berries & cream entree,
Splashing a la Bay,
Reading enjoy, listen to Mozart play,
"Zimmer's" here! So our stars don't stray,
Our belief GPS is recalculating the way!
Madras instead of gray,
Dour somber becomes gay,
At a ballgame eye spy,
A growing white blur, wonder I why?
Then it hits me!
By dawns early light, See? Oh say!
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