Blizzard is coming
Hailstorm is drumming
How we longed to be wetter.
We’ve been in a drought
We prayed the calm out
Now comes turbulent weather.
Batten the hatches
Prepare the caches
White rage threatens our safety.
Will eating snow bursts
Appease our mad thirst?
Freezing adds to the crazy.
The thought of traveling is inspiring to me.
So many amazing countries I've read about.
Places I've dreamed of visiting and long to see
by plane, rail, or car. Whatever my chosen route.
Excitement begins when my decision is made
as to where I'll go, close to home or far away.
Walking on a beach and watching the sunlight fade.
Perhaps this winter, riding in a one horse sleigh.
Planning the journey is always part of the fun.
Whether I'll be daytripping in Scotland's heather
or the Alps, my travelogue will be finely spun.
When it's time to get away, I have no tether.
I'll pack a bag on an impulse or merest whim.
Destination not always chosen in advance.
I've not thrown a dart at a map as a prelim,
but wherever it lands, I'd find reason to dance.
My mood made me rude,
My dude soothed my mood;
All right all my nights dude,
Your loneliness makes a day grudge;
Let the world burn outside,
Let’s remember nobody outside;
Insanity makes me fervent dude,
Exigency needs your deeds, dude;
And when I watered in dread
I Reminisce,
With Tearful eyes more filled with bliss,
I Reminisce,
I could tell the moments like a dream,
Is all that we saw or seem;
You exalt my cheerfulness,
When I am in woefulness;
My mood made me rude,
My dude soothed my mood;
You caught me waiting at the shore
I was awed by concealed passion
Storm of deep feelings jailed my core
You caught me waiting at the shore
Longing to squeeze you and have more
Love is more fierce than compassion
You caught me waiting at the shore
I was awed by concealed passion.
Checked by HMS.COM/ 8 lines with 8 Syllables each/ ABaAabAB
Written: December 23, 2022
Chance Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
SECOND CHANCE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Care
Call
Come
treat
sleep
it can be done.
Fervor
fuel for dreaming;
Too many arrows fly
aimed at an invisible mark;
Moonlight.
FLORAL FERVOUR
Me a flower spreading romantic aroma,
eager to fall in love with rain shower
kissing my petals from above.
Or wish to love a butterfly
fluttering wings
to touch me tender, delicate,
Me sure to reciprocate.
May be in love with gentle zephyr.
Shivered on its lovely touch
awaking floral mind
amorous fragrance to release.
May be a Sunflower
bathed and blessed by Sunrays
gazing at Sun from morn to eve.
drinking solar power,
all day long bliss of sunshine to believe.
Might be a periwinkle
Lavender or with indigo hue
Soft petals to twinkle.
glistening when wet with drops of dew.
06/01/21
'Open Poetry 5 'Contest by Charlotte Puddifoot
It is quite important that each man
leads a righteous way of living
for him to receive the grace
from the Almighty God.
It's right for parents
to closely see
or manage
all their
kids.
They strolled together at eventide
As the pearlescent moon danced above
When they embraced he could
hear the thrum of his heartbeats
Emotions seemed to plumb together as one
And she felt the flames of passion burning within
The tang of her kiss aroused his desire
And awakened the feral beast within
He felt a howling fervor erupting in his soul
That could not be crimped.
And their passion set the night ablaze.
3-18-2021
Eight word Bardenesque challenge Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
A little spark of dalliance bursts a humongous flame,
now it's white-hot passion growing too wild to tame
Date written: 07/15/2020
Dharma dice roll dreams
Karma coaxial spread sheet
Afterlife.com
Sometimes I think about the way that
it could be if you were here.
And if we were unfolding that red, checkered
ocean, releasing in waves as it hits the earth of green fringe.
Below the tree we lie, and bees and ants
would join us as if there were no better place to be.
Or rather, we would join them.
And I would sing you my song
And you would sing me yours.
The notes would ache, play, grin, tense;
followed by a concluding melody of joy and bliss.
We would be lost. Lost within each other,
knowing you are you and I am me.
Swimming in one another’s sea, smiling
because we have learned how to,
at last. We’ve been churning, yearning, burning for
a time where we could just hold
each other; a moment of embracing your eyes,
and you painting my smile with your brush of wit.
There in your presence is where I long to
sit so that I may know everything of you.
If only this was not an “if only.”
I want this for real life, not for my mind’s eye, lonely.
The way it tries to stare at who it cannot see
is what makes me envision you and I beneath a tree.
She left the tent in holy fervor,
Hell-bent to spread the Word.
The Spirit moved and made her quiver;
No act of faith was too absurd.
She knocked on doors, she spoke with zeal,
Her faith she shared in earnest.
There was no doubt God’s love is real:
His justice is the sternest.
I asked what other gods contend
For space inside her pretty head.
Might Yahweh, Allah or Shiva rend
The veil between gods ‘live and dead?
Do you beseech the Norse god Thor,
Once favored by the common folk?
The Son of Odin is heard no more.
What power broke that yoke?
For love there was an Aphrodite,
For war the Greek god Ares.
Athena’s wisdom eclipsed the mighty,
As Apollo‘s virtues the Virgin Mary‘s.
Though long I queried with due respect,
She unyielding kept her patience.
“On Jesus only I reflect;
To Him I owe allegiance.”
One god only fills her life -
It severs her from me.
I trust in reason, yet love my wife
With faith in one less god than she.
In these uncertain times when hours pale
Your ever-present flame exudes lit charm;
That evenings assuage all fears unseen
And knowing you would guide us through day’s rain,
Warm caresses gift quietude, kind
As fervor vanquishes the dimmest star.
You are my comfort through night's embrace
The keeper who assures our dreams cruise on,
Rivering the shores glazed by tomorrows :
For my harbor is you… my sanctum divine
This altar of refuge when breaths heave low;
This flash of eyes glinting as kisses wake dawn …
Until your touch lullabies me, so safe so abiding.
Writers on the Storm Contest 7/8/2018
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Inspiration from The Doors' Song 'Touch Me'
Server With Much Fervor
Trump seems to think he is a server;
It has been frantic with much fervor;
His tradition;
An exhibition;
Did drive us crazy being an unnerver.
Jim Horn
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