Mitch the mallard stood tall on his stilts,
wobbling proudly between the reeds~
he’d heard that height was fashion
in the flock of long-legged breeds.
He’d fastened a pink cape behind him
to match the flamingo crowd,
hoping they’d nod approvingly
and whisper, “He fits in—how proud!”
But the flamingos blinked politely,
their heads tilted in gentle doubt.
They liked him fine as a mallard~
no cape or stilts required to stand out.
So he let the cape fall gently,
and the stilts drift from his side;
and instantly the flamingos swooped
to snatch them in a rosy row.
They strutted off in grand parade,
one flamingo floundered pink and proud
his cape billowing like a sail~
“Behold! I’m the tallest, I do declare!”
—A Sonnet—
I dwelt one season, fastened to the bough,
Till autumn's breath divulged my hidden name;
The oak released the covenant we avowed,
And bade my little sovereignty to flame.
I voyaged where the fern rehearsed the rain,
Past lichened stones that kept green books of moss;
Each root composed, through every amber vein,
A slower scripture no man's foot could gloss.
Yet falling proved no forfeiture of place:
The forest hoards the harvest of its loss.
The brook translated gold to dark embrace,
Till silence learned the cadence of the moss.
Now spring unfolds where none have witnessed me—
I bloom as rings the living heart of tree.
The waves caress your hair with a light veil of foam.
Then the outline of your body appears, beautiful fairy of the oceans.
A breath of wind brushes your skin, the gentle touch of a feather.
In your eyes the sun lays changing reflections of Love.
I sense your steps along this beach. My throat tightens.
The seasons of the heart have a thousand colors meant only for you.
I see your face dancing, it cradles my soul and I hope.
Softness cements feelings — I think of it, I believe in it.
You, little magical firefly, shooting star of destiny,
Your words brought me finely-cut diamonds.
From that tender case, your smile opens a tomorrow for me.
I have fastened my wings to the blue of your sky — Friendship.
A breath of sensitivity fills me, a moment of dream, a gift.
Thanks to you, the days are brighter. Life rises within me.
Tender fairy, I will carry forever these beautiful moments.
When the ocean bathes my steps, a thought will be just for you.
Joël Charvillat
Our love must never have a sunset,
Become cold as the sun in this sea.
Thus, hold tender vows without regret.
Dearly contemplating word and deed,
Heading along the bridal marquee.
Cadre of witnesses stands agreed.
Borrowed scarf erases mirthful sobs.
My elder's poor brooch fastened loosely.
Blue garter buckles, groom later lobs.
Launching fresh bouquets of baby's breath,
Superstition ignites fantasy.
Unbridled guests wrestle unto death.
Their hearts strive from unsettled desire.
When seeking love's prize, wisely tarry,
Arm steady flames, diffuse reckless fire.
I brought my hammer full of hope,
A pocket lined with careful plans,
Determined I would finally cope
With slipping dreams through restless hands.
I chose a spot upon the wall,
A place where things were meant to stay,
But what I held refused that call—
It wavered, trembled, slid away.
Each time I tried to pin it there,
It shivered loose, it would not bind,
Like fragile thoughts, like whispered air,
Like moments racing through the mind.
They told me, “Hold it, make it last,
Control the shape, don’t let it fall,”
But some things never can be fastened—
Like Jell O pressed against a wall.
And in that struggle, breath grew tight,
My hands grew tired, my heart unsure,
Was I too weak, or was I right
To chase a thing I can’t secure?
So I stepped back and let it be,
No hammer raised, no desperate fight,
And in that quiet, suddenly
It shimmered softly in the light.
Not everything is meant to stay,
Not every dream must be controlled,
Some truths will always slip away—
Uncaptured, fluid, uncontrolled.
And maybe peace is simply this:
To lose the need to make it all
Stand still beneath a forceful wish…
Like nailing Jell O to a wall.
I made two out of order signs
Fastened them together
Hung over my shoulders one day
Sunny was the weather
I took a book I had started to read
And sat down in the shade
It was a day for rest for me
I wouldn't use a spade
My kitchen had closed on the door
Cooking was not happening
This was a day of vacation
Don't call it slackening
Women of America use some sense
Take a day for yourself
Rest, read, take a small nap
Put your work on a shelf
Add a day now and then to rest
It will do a wonder
For your mind, body and spirit
So you won't go under
The Cord decided—Suddenly—
The Sky withdrew its Sound—
A sharp Arithmetic of Air
Was finished—then unbound—
The Body paused—to take a step
The Soul declined the Floor—
A click—no louder than a Thought—
Undid the World below—
The Neck—forgot its errand—
The Blood mislaid its Rule—
Gravity—remembered me—
And rang the Bell--quite True—
Not Pain—so much as Interval—
Between the Now—and Then—
A Silence—fastened round the Throat—
Where Breath had always been—
And I—was lifted from the Weight--
Of Flesh’s brief Command—
As if my Name—had slipped its Thread
From God’s own careful Hand—
Friendship — is a Lantern —
That glimmers — while we roam —
But some — will snuff its timid Light —
When Shadows call them home.
A Promise — lightly fastened —
May loosen — in the Breeze —
For Hearts that hold for Comfort's sake —
Let go — when Pleasures cease.
Yet I — would keep my Candle —
Through Storm — or dwindled Day —
For Love that flickers only fair —
Was never Flame — i Say.
And Souls — who shine in Winter —
When Summer fails to stay —
Prove Friendship is a Covenant —
Not worn — but made — each Day.
Remembering a Christmas from a very long time ago
One frosty winter's eve
We went to look for a Christmas Tree
After searching until nearly dark
We found one and the truck did park
My husband got out the old tree stand
Put the tree in, fastened and it looked grand
Freezing we came inside, I made a fire
Then made hot chocolate we did desire
Tree in place, a meal eaten
Hot chocolate sipped we felt beaten
We decided the tree to decorate in the morn
Many ornaments upon it we'd adorn
During the night an odor permeated the house
It disturbed my sleep even though all quiet as mouse
When six o'clock alarm loudly sang
I jumped up, hit the floor with a band
Some animals upon that tree had sprayed its scent
So out the door it and stand all went
That was the first time I bought a tree
It's beauty and scent did please me
I probably won't decorate this year
I'm old, worn out __my dear
Christmas is special in so many ways
But those wild cedars in the woods can stay
I need more than what you’re giving me.
Don’t ask because you already know.
It’s past time to leave unsaid on the floor,
grind fastened into dust and go forward.
Don’t ask because you already know,
tell me what you need to give honestly.
Grind fastened into dust and go forward,
let it run through shaky fingers and fall.
Tell me what you need to give honestly,
perhaps I can reciprocate if you let me.
Let it run through shaky fingers and fall,
instantaneously there is a lighter load.
Perhaps I can reciprocate if you let me,
I’ll take a little if you give in just a bit.
Instantaneously there is a lighter load,
reciprocating will make us both stronger.
I’ll take a little if you give in just a bit,
it’s past time to leave unsaid on the floor.
Reciprocating will make us both stronger,
I need more than what you’re giving me.
In an ice bath.
Fingers bubbling, being unveiled.
Everything is like mental illness.
Because they say it so much.
Footprints, grass, and trumpets.
All fastened to my being with paper clips.
Holding gently like fingernails.
A polo shirt makes me wander around.
The TV is dripping like salad dressing.
Beautiful type of window seat.
Where I gradually remembered that I hate things.
Dripping, odd, polished,
The sacrifices.
I don’t know how to emerge from.
The ice bath hours ago.
Fingers bubbling.
No one could live in a pile of ice.
It does melt like radioactive flower petals.
Me.
In an ice bath.
It's like a teleportation device.
It’s too cold for nothing.
We ruin our miserable lives chasing fleeting vanities.
No safe will ever be fastened to our hearse.
We fade away in the anonymity of insignificant noise.
We build empires of nightmares on the shores of oceans of scars.
Our dirty hands tremble, trying to hold back the clocks of time.
The mirrors of our pride lie, yet we love their deceit,
for they disguise our fears beneath reflections of success.
Hours vanish like ashes in the wind of our perdition,
and we forget to love while we learn to appear.
Our hearts become clocks without tick or tock,
regulated by ambition, emptied of all breath.
In the silence of our voiceless sufferings,
or in the pain of our wounds,
sometimes gleam the sparks of truth,
a fragment of eternity amid the clamor.
But we pass it by, in a hurry to exist,
as if life were nothing but a race toward the grave,
blind to the only treasure worth keeping,
the chaos we sow in others’ hearts to find peace.
We’re born with a voice, a spirit, a name..
The heart holds a fire, each soul holds a claim.
No chains should be fastened, no silence imposed..
For freedom is ours, it cannot be closed.
The right to be sheltered, the right to be fed..
To live without terror, to dream without dread.
The right to speak truth when the powerful lie..
The right to a future where children don't cry..
Yet hatred still lingers, it poisons the air..
It whispers division, it teaches despair.
But peace is a seed.. though fragile, though small..
When planted in justice, it rises for all.
Lift up the weary, let mercy be shown..
No soul walks this earth on a journey alone.
When hands join in unity, when barriers fall..
The anthem of freedom unites great and small.
Let kindness be louder than cannons of war..
Let rights be the shelter we all can stand for.
For peace isn’t distant, it waits to increase..
The moment we choose it, humanity’s peace.
Hourglass
The sun has become dimmed
with each step
the pathways seem endless
He is dazed
even as his mind is fazed
He loafs
as a floating leaf
romancing the breezy wind
He is immersed in simmering waters
doused with flickering hopes
drums to the echoes of yesterday
dances to the clanging fetters
beckons to the fastened doors
staggers through the mocking maze
He fidgets, longing,
watching for the hourglass.
He fidgets, longing,
watching for the hourglass.
The weight
He had written two short books
needed to show her his work,
Not now, she said, I’m watching TV
Around the beam that keeps the heaven’s roof from falling,
He slung a rope fastened to a scrap iron drum using
Himself as a counterweight.
He hoisted the drum up, but he was too heavy
He carried too much weight of pride.
He cried in the night, struggled to get rid of unwanted feelings
The drum becomes lighter and descends until
He was lifted to the top of the beam, feeling free
Of false pride and ambition.
Why did you cry so much in the night? they asked
He smiled and was at ease with himself and didn’t answer.
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.