I don't like to brag, but I've seen it all
The virginal Springs, the legends of Fall
Where whispering pines, meet towering peaks
And raging rivers, raise babbling creeks
A fresh forest glade, festooned with fauna
Hot bubbling waters, nature's own sauna
Swam the Tasman Sea, hiked along the Nile
Even met a wretch, walking "his" green mile
Once I played the Met, and jammed with the Stones
Then won a big bet, while rolling the bones
Met the self-righteous, who claims to be right
And basked with the meek, who shines a true light
From Rome's Rotunda and Phlegraean Fields
To Chinese lanterns and Japanese shields
Sailed the Seven Seas, been around the Horn
Watched a nation die, watched a nation born.
I've seen followers and leaders of men
I've met the Pope, forgiving my sin
Saw too many rich, degrading the poor
I've stood at Hell's gate, passed through Heaven's door
I've traveled the moon, the stars in the sky
I've charmed the Devil, making Angels cry
Like I said before, I don't like to brag
Here's a toast to ME, waving my own flag!
Fallacies rampart unto your face,
let them not, bring u any disgrace
For, the peregrination is untold
Staff of benediction, must you hold
TO reach THE ZENITH,
festooned with GOLD!
Festive firs are tumbling
bare of coloured glory.
Needles and fronds carpet
halls grey with silence;
carolling a distant joy.
Gifts rest in hibernation;
wingèd figurines lie swathed
beneath a glittered duvet
of prized iridescent tissues
adorning a winter casket
keeper of twelve days
festooned in priceless reverie.
Written: November 05, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Hilo Poet
****************************
He ruled with a rakish grin ... a slack scythe in his sanguine fist—
A pharaoh of spurious gloat ... redolent of lard and treacle,
His laws ratified in rapture ... festooned the sacred with spit.
A seraglio of skeuomorphs ... hailed his wondrous fashion sense—
The riparian fields sank ... in soaked squalor and dysania,
He wore a nimbus of stink ... a stygian sherpa to dire fate.
In his sesquipedalian bragging ... the soul of land grew slack—
Each boast is a blur, each law ... a grieving gasp of suction,
Even the seraphic ibis flinched ... its wings dimmed by his shadow.
With tales of Siamese stars and stew ... he won over the jury—
Though the slack-jawed and gaunt group ... gnawed on serendipity bones,
There was no spark ... just the sizzle of sand in a dying sun.
Now his tomb lies amid a cold dune ... decked with dysenteric myths—
A janiform relic of zeitgeist and treason ... stripped of all zest,
The sovereign ruin ... no ripple, no ravel, no rove of resile.
Under the bejeweled diadem of the sparkling sky
the vibrant celebration finds exuberance in the carnival,
morphing into a sea of color and music in the aura of night
where I float with the fancy procession in the spirit of joy.
The unleashed spectrum of confetti swirls in the festive air,
dancers in plumed apparels sway to the rhythm of samba.
The alluring aroma of street food drifts in the smoky air,
entices the ever-longing sense of delicious delight
The serene street reverberates with the tempo of trumpets
as the festooned floats glide through the hypnotized crowds.
Convention creates ingenuity in the exhilarating ambiance
with the mystique melodic motion in the festival of life.
It falls with grace.
Metallic bawls hail the strength of zinc roofs.
At the mercy of the thatch,
Drops drip from needle points of skeletal
Palm fronds.
Particles of rain descend on thresholds
Among dewed terrains.
The petrichor befriends the atmosphere,
Caressing limpid warmth with floating cold.
Lightning, a white dancing Anaconda, races with speed,
Filling the tenebrous plains with lights of hope.
Troubled skies ululate through the power of thunder.
I always recline on that liquid voice!
Rainmakers cream their palms
And roast fresh leaves of
Epochal petals
Plucked from somnolent trees.
Bubbles, green and full of life, puke,
Filling up the mouths of burning woods.
Grey darkness suggests the pleasant wars of
May through October,
When distant wayward drops
Trickle before the deafening deluge.
I hail the blandishments of July
For the society of fattened yams and the
Worthy tendrils —festooned confetti of ceremonial
Harvests.
Droughts yawn in vain when the attitude of
Wet seasons befriends the skies,
Yielding fecund grimes that grace the soil.
.
in
az well
out
nursing
forgetting fabric festooned
the wicket
'twixt ourn
she passes into
mine grip
mine remember
mine thank
hern 12hourz uv
require
at her own
peril
she governesses
mine
Idyllic illicit illusion…
Complicit daydream delusion…
Explicit panoply profusion…
Other worldly garlanded gems..
Purring poetic…balletic..stirring kinetic aesthetic..
Absurdly drop atop delicious stems..
Heavenly blue hue...serenity’s serendipitous shade..
Or purple patch so plush…fairies blamelessly blush..
Bucolic blossom hush... mother nature's made..
Garnishing..varnishing.. intricate forest floor laid..
Magical mist…delicate..sumptuously sprayed...
Trysts persist…unctuously dappled glade..
How can you resist..not be swayed?
Flagrantly decadently displayed.
Fragrantly delectably conveyed...
Casts seasonal smorgasbord spells..
Marvel at the mythical majesty..
Spring’s cocooned woven tapestry..
Festooned filigree of bluebell dells
Southern Rata (is a stunning Kiwi Tree)
Red or scarlet harlots instead...a bucolic frolic..
Tranches spread as if bulbous branches have gorgeously bled..
Overpowering flowering towers glimmer…fanciful fairytale shimmers showering...
Such vim...swim on a whim..sprouting on an outing from their pouting wooden limb....
A delight..refining..shining bright.. defining.. these bizarrely beautifully gnarly trees...
Crimson collage..insisting snarling tendril darlings..timber tentacles twisting…a magical mirage....
Marooned yet cocooned in a festooned lagoon...wouldn't barter anything…
To swoon at the miracle..spectacular boon of Southern Rata ...
desultery
make-believe
festooned
in
patterns
of
.pleasured
opulence
a
cornucopia
of
hedonist
innovation
flourishing
interludes
of seismic
seranades
embracing
sumptious
magnificence
AN OPEN FORM uses spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,& relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input &respond in a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood thus is inherently variable.
Calm castle of cards,
hold that hand close to your chest.
Festooned with clover
a soft wind rolls through the mote,
goosebumps raised by a gamble.
The weeping willows
Their widow's veil of leaves
Trailing sadly in the stream
Pungent spicy peppercorn trees
Their green feathery hair
Festooned with pink beads
Crooked old oaks
Their gnarled fingers
Pointing in twisted directions
Rigid tall poplars
Giant thin arrows
Forever trying to touch the sky
The blossoming apple tree
Petals slowly falling
Pink snow drifting to the ground
The purple flowered wisteria
Ever reaching out for somewhere else
Unable to be content in one spot
The graceful ghost gum
The crisp clean lemon aroma
Of a glowing spectre on a moonlit night
Prim pine trees
Dressed in green ballroom gowns
Still waiting for the dance to start
Liquid amber in autumn
Sending down colourful stars
A rainbow mat on the ground
The dull silver grey wattle
Glowing yellow with the brightness
Of a thousand tiny suns
Every tree on this planet
Has a beauty of its own
We should learn to care more
(Sponsor : Kai Michael Newmann)
MOON ON A SPOON
If I could I would
fetch you the moon
on a spoon
Oh ? Really !
you ballyhoo coon
you make me swoon
If I could I would
fetch you the moon
on a spoon
Why not bring me
a chocolate cocoon
I will wriggle out
festooned !
If I could I would
fetch you the moon
on a spoon
We will eat it at noon
in our magical room
then to our doom !
If I could I would
fetch you the moon
on a spoon
My goon, so goop !
Where are you from ?
a souk goof ?
If I could I would
fetch you the moon
on a spoon
How ?
Lo ! I do not know !
My spoon has
sailed with a
monsoon
And the moon
has fallen into
a true blue
lagoon too
soon !
Fickle sunbeams tickle fluttering daydreams...…
Lyrical lapping lullaby encores...
Gingerly stroke sandy shell shattered shores..
Starlings spy…sky high murmurations...
Skimming stones....slicing silky sheens..
Voluptuously verdant riddles…islands within idylls...
Scattered daffy darlings..dilly dally...
Sunshine splattered chlorophyll candles...
Animosity as an ersatz monstrosity shines…
Saluting highfalutin pomposity..devouring skylines..
Notes of cut grass gloats floats from..
Middle class mowed manicured marvels..
Criss cross collaborations… surf the tailored turf....
Billiards baize ablaze with petrichor whiffs
Festooned with afternoon nana nap snores..
The radio's heavenly hum of cricket scores...
A duvet of familiar riffs...murmurs of what if's..
An inkling..whispers of summer's sprinkling serendipity twinkling..
Rhymes in Nine 2 10-11-24 Rhymes checked with www.rhymezone Picture #4
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fall Rhapsody
Fall rhapsody to BEGIN, TOLD IN scarlet tones,
A SERENADE for strings in a PARADE of russet GOLD hues -
A JUBILEE for acorns and for oaks in an autumn harvest JAMBOREE.
Maple LEAVES BLUSH in SHEAVES of firelight crimson choruses
Courtly LOVE sung like minuets OF twilight THRUSH vespers
MERRY harmonies of CRANBERRY aria odysseys.
Trees FESTOONED in UMBER pantaloons cast off MAROONED melodies
Twilight breezes FAN a cinnamon TAN pup in SLUMBER -
Orange opus CALLS when fall RECALLS harvest harmony.
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