Ethereally Poems

Hallowed Soul

Inspired by Ronnie James Dio Song : Sacred Heart



In the dark opaque night 
across the space of silence, 
through the wasteland of your ravaged existence, 
you take the ordained journey forsaken,
but the track of travail in illusive time you lose
within the gloomy labyrinth of torment.

Trudging at the edge of tolerance you hear
the sane spirit whisper, this journey has no end.
In the fold of the desolate soul in agony
you see the dismal sky crash down.
Buried in the dark debris of mystique hope 
you pray for the light of the almighty.

The broken dreams don’t return,
for you can’t mend their wings to fly
in the recreated sky of the mangled mind,
but time restructures your daydream, 
raise you free from the ruins of desire,
you drift through the rainbow arch.

You travel liberated from the clutch of evil   
on the blessed inward journey.  
In the sanctum of the devout essence  
at the edge of the enlightened eternity,
you perceive the divine glow of the inner sun,
ethereally illumining the hallowed soul.

On Warmest Bed of Optimism

Charming and serious, communications between
the fairy and dragonfly, compete for a child’s attention.
—Poet

A rustic sky, out of bound;
Humans see ethereally.
Teeniest fairy, on sunshine round,
children find touchy-feely.
On warmest bed of optimism,
in her red-pink gown, wings sans sound.
She entertains, charms with witticism.
Steely-dragonfly’s profound.

Supernal what-ifs sifted.
Human children understand, for
the tiniest while, the world’s gifted.
Blue eyes gaze sunflower’s core.
Verdant leaves cocoon, sway in breeze.
Amidst the seeds, mobile lifted,
innocent, before the birds’ and bees’
fluttering lashes shifted.

Century

If, into my future, I get a sudden chance to peep
I'd choose my ninety-fourth birthday hoping am still alive;
My mother left us at that ripe age while still in good health,
not live long, but I'd be happy to witness the scene live;

It is not my desire to be a freaky immortal;
From ninety-four, it's Test Cricket, just singles with my bat;
I wish to see what things would be on that momentous day
And to score a grand century is what I'm aiming at;

I need to be ethereally there cutting the cake
With my wife, those who matter, egging me for an encore;
All of us encouraging and back-patting each other
It's what I want to see in future, and what years I score;

My ninety-fourth birthday event is what I want to see,
But I also know that life is cruel and a known tease;
We can never know when and where our breath will be snuffed out
When we shall dance, sing and when our life will come to a cease.

If I Had A Chance

Into my future, If I get a sudden chance to peep
I'd choose my ninety-fourth birthday hoping am still alive
My mother left us at that ripe age while still in good health
not live long, but I'd be happy to witness the scene live

It is not my desire to be a freaky immortal
From ninety-four, it's Test Cricket, just singles with my bat
I wish to see what things would be on that momentous day
And to score a grand century is what I'm aiming at

I need to be ethereally there cutting the cake
With my wife, those who matter, egging me for an encore
All of us encouraging and back-patting each other
It's what I want to see in future, and what years I score

My ninety-fourth birthday event is what I want to see
But I also know that life is cruel and a known tease
We can never know when and where our breath will be snuffed out
When we shall dance, sing and when our life will come to a cease

Enchanting and Lovely

You sigh like a jazz nightingale,
Youre sweet as a croissant,
And bouquet,
With your hands upon the petals,
And crescents,
of your hips,
Within stillness, youre swaying,
As fine as can be,
And our love parts the midnight clouds,

When you sway,
Youre even lovelier,
Than an evening rose,
And I love you,
Simply and ethereally,
Love you lovely lady,

With all of the flowers in the gardens,
To sway with,
Enchanting and lovely,
I wanna be enchanting with you,
I wanna be enchanting with you,

With all of the flowers in the gardens,
To sway with,
Enchanting and lovely,
I wanna be enchanting and lovely,
I wanna be enchanting,
and lovely with you
Reynaldo Casison

Gypsy Love Gaze

Our gaze,
Kisses,
Sweetly,
Like wild and enchanted,
Sunflowers,
With the tenderness of irises,
Ethereally,
Your Beauty sways in all the flowers,

Our hips,
Glow with their crescent honey,
While the petals delicate curves,
Sway with resilient rhythms,
Hands upon our hips,
Our gaze with its crescent,
Gypsy love,
And the exquisite blush,
Of a rose still moon,
Dances within the vineyard gardens
Reynaldo Casison

Bewitching Night

The dispersed dark specks drizzle down silently
from the cauldron of the infinite blankness,
that the sky shapes at the edge of the ductile dusk,
since the beginning of the titular time. 

The silken tapestry of the black blanket spreads slowly
as the twilight dissolves at the hinge of hazy horizon,
like the rinsed rainbow melting on the crumbled cloud,
from where the draping darkness flows with fluid night. 

The sound of silence echoes in the night sky ethereally,
wakes up the sleeping stars one by one to sparkle bright
in the bejeweled crown of the argentine ambiance,
where the moonbeam strands weave dream of you for me.

In the stardust sprinkled bewitching night I wait fervently
for you to emerge out of my dream like an angel,
walk in the craving corridor of my mesmerized mind,
as I let my longing drift in the air of night’s amorous allure.

Swaying Caressing Silhouettes

Swaying, caressing sihouettes,
In the rose evenings,

Meditating, lighting candles,
As you sweetly gaze,

Swaying, liberating hems,
Like salsa dreams,

Your essence is exotic, stunning as rain,
Upon a flowers dazed petals,

Honey of mists,
Golden leaves,
in autumnal symphonies,

The green dresses,
Have turned a golden honey,

Let us shed our grievings,
The fishnets,
of hips and waves,
From our souls,
Like those majestic trees,

Waves,
waxing with crescents,
To gems and shore,

Ballerina dove, the moon,
Is dreaming your rhythms,

Swaying, 
Meditatiing,
lighting candles,
In the warmth,
Of iris midnight dawns,

And the vineyards,
have ethereally,
Blossomed,
Within,
The enchanted,
gaze of your soul
Reynaldo Casison

In the Hymn of Evening Harbor

The moon rose,
In the blueness,
Of sky,
In the hymn of evening harbor,

Wing in wing,
The nightingales,
Danced,
To the tune,
Of her pretty hem,

We have seen her sway,
Like a fiesta flower,
Through the sunset gaze,
Of a gazebo and its garden,
By the quaint lakeshore,

Moonlight,
With our love,
Dressed her hair,
With the bows and flowers,
Of its sanctuary,

Where has the dove flown,
In the siesta evening,

Ethereally, her hem twirls,
In a stillness of love,
Caressing blue,
And rose moons
Reynaldo Casison

From Love To Love

Amalgam  vis-à-vis 
of enzymes...
enraptured bows
of intimate fires...
Love, unsatisfied mix
of electrons, protons and neutrons!
screens emotionally
intertwined in feelings
ethereally woven...
prime seams,
magnetized caresses
attracted by the vortex,
kinesthetic vibration
that is the love !

A Year of Faeries

Faeries of the winter,
lacy ice aglitter.

Faeries in the mist,
Mother Nature’s kiss.

Faeries in daylight,
spectral delights.

Faeries on the waters,
Neptune’s lovely daughters.

Faeries in the park,
how the doggies bark.

Faeries in the evening,
gardens they are weeding.

Faeries of the spring,
ethereally singing.

Faeries of the flowers,
vibrant colored Powers.

Faeries in the greenery,
mystic flickering scenery.

Faeries in the summer,
inside of blossoms slumber.

Faeries in the roses,
planting colored posies.

Faeries in the fall,
colors that enthrall.

Faeries painting love,
blessed gifts from above.


1-31-2023
Your Favourite Rhyming Poem from the second half of 2022 Poetry Contest
Julia Ward

The Moon Shone Brightly - Potd

Lilac lavender leaves fluttered ethereally
over the smooth sea of the placid lake.
A shimmer of light shone over the calm waves,
as they rolled silently and collectively 
towards the sandy shore now lit
by the rising of the amber full moon.

Wave after wave composed
a lyrical enchanting melody
played by the rising orb.

The leaves formed fragrant shapes
emulating the grandness of the scene.
In the gathering darkness two lovers
heard the alluring symphony
and felt each other entwined 
in a dance of love as the moon 
in a dreamy crescendo shone 
brightly evermore.
Until the eclipse took place.
Then it hummed no more that night.

The Crepuscule

I stow in solitude
where wilding grow
gazing at the stars across
the calm space filled 
of nostalgic moonlight 
awe-inspiring days
at which point you were
the foremost of me
& in which spot I was the best
of you
whilst sloppy husk
catch my tears
of visions
to float ethereally
beyond
gloaming skies
within your
Warm embrace

Written: August 28, 2022

:::Gods Do Not Hide:::

Gods don’t hide, so where can they dwell 
    Yonder, out of sight, down the wishing well 
   In deep ridges of our brains, under fontanels 
  The search delves inward, to nuclei within cells 

      Gods don’t hide, they’re ethereally clear 
    Invisible to the eye, yet whisper in our ear
   Can’t be sure, if that’s a conscience we hear
  Inner voices are important, helps to calm fear 

     Gods don’t hide, remain loved and unseen 
    In a temple behind, the frankincense screen
   On bloody battlefields, we pray they intervene 
  Fighting the good fight, with guns and figurines 

     No Gods don’t hide, but what would I know 
    An agnostic won’t help, ease your life’s woe’s 
   My deliverance may come, if randomness goes 
  I’m ignorant on the fence, observing voids grow


                   Life has many mysteries 
                 mankind makes tough calls 
               This mind failing to penetrate 
             let alone crack omnipotent walls 
                    

By
David Kavanagh

Wingless Angel

They were soft whispers
her prayers
but loud enough
that God could hear.

King James Bible
opened in one hand
a lit candle in the other
and the sound of urgency
affixed to her lips
in a flow of rhythmic cadence
she recited the psalms as
her faith soared to reach its mark—God’s ears.

The pain of labor
never her experience
but her opened heart was
full of maternal love.
She was my ‘wingless angel’
now ethereally winged
assisting the God she loved.

Her faith
she passed on
by showing the way through
gentleness and unvoiced guidance
radiance and wisdom
that example I’ve become.

I sometimes imagine
a familiar whisper
echoed in a warm breeze
and I wonder
is that you, my angel…
do you still pray for me?

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