Soft she slips into the wood,
Garlanding brush and branches,
Spreading out her lovely cloak,
To cover posts and fences.
Now she drifts into the yard,
Making all things bright,
Swathing each and every thing,
In a mantle of pure white.
The roses in my garden,
Will sleep through Winter's night,
Beneath their mantle made of snow,
Hidden from my sight.
Winter's queen is lovely,
And wonderful to see,
Sparkling in the moonlight,
She smiles and beckons me.
Come walk with me in moonlight.
Come dance beneath the stars.
Laugh as snow flakes kiss your face.
This moment now is ours.
blue hills cascaded
on jade slope of my hamlet
where in sapphire sky
I flew multicolored kites
played hide and seek with cloud clumps
sparkling stream girdled
garlanding verdant meadow
I floated toy boats
to the distant unknown sea
my youthful fantasy sailed
walking the last mile
through memory corridor
I’m suffused with joy
adoring childhood treasure
kept in luring nostalgia
________________
August 11, 2022
Syllable count checked at HMS
Contest : Childhood Nostalgia
Sponsored by : JCB Brul
the waves garland these
regal rocks with soft blossoms
of white fluffy froth
above faintly woven skies
the moon is a mute witness
April.20.2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Genuine dollars from just shredded papers!
Risked bloodless jumps from sky scrapers!
A repeated mad stabbing of one’s bowel with a dagger,
one amusedly looking back at the waiters for a stagger;
All, a seeming control of Autonomous Nature,
To the mightily attracted, an enough mental torture.
His bamboozled face sometimes worshipfully handsome
Over a barefaced holding of Nature to ransom…
This, though, a piteous misconstruction of Reality,
As magic remains miles away from Actuality;
Just as Scheming, Ingenious Devil is from God
And a gestured ‘nay’ from ‘a nod’…
In theatres commercially displayed
And in open squares freely replayed,
Faultless jobs that are but a trick,
Disparaging Laws strong like Brick;
Undeserving pockets with money stashing
And deceiving graceful necks garlanding…
If magical powers be Satan’s invention
Then one is a professing achiever of his invention,
At once, his minister
With clearly missions sinister.
Settling for a tomorrow wearing a puncture
And unthinking forfeiture of a happy future.
I saw the primroses
Crave I the smell, splendid sweet Alyssa
Shall bring daisies
Summer sunflowers
They are perfumed from unseen crazies
I discovered the flowers
I crave the floral, flush flowering quince
With my ears I see earthy gardens amist
I feel the never mumming mums just so loud
By the grave, I saw the hollyhocks sprout
While in the darkest night
I see a floral light
That moment my soul grew ornamental
I heard a flush, peak garlanding
Much I marveled this ornamental pulmonary
As that moment my soul grew prime vegetations
Mumming mums just so quite now
I saw the hollyhocks rise
While in the darkest night
I see floral lights
8/14/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©
I began my voyage with confidence like Columbus,
No long,no long,not years only a few months voyage,
Towards,mount Everest,the highest mountain of the world,
The way walked remote but promoting my mission,
Every step I kept in courage,my aim encouraged,
Reached the foot steps of the highest mountain of the world,
Very high the summit that I have desired to submit me,
Small,small steps to reach the peak but no stop,
My inner soul walks with me along holding my right hand,
The hope and confidence garlanding,welcoming me,
I determined to take every step towards the top without stop,
Here,I reached the foot step of the world's highest mountain but not top,
Cheer me all,it's charity,to reach my steps the at most top!
Trotting along;fighting death –
with delaying techniques.
Chemo had failed.
Weeping Ashoka, how do I
name you differently ?
I may not see you again.
I am hurt, very badly.
Absolutely rooted, firmly
in autumn. My leaves were falling.
Pushing back the interface
between smiles and tears;
the trespasser goes to moon.
It was traditional,
garlanding the poet-
who had killed his muse.
Satish Verma
liquor of love
quench my desire
put out this fire
banquets of gifts
shower my soul
so all behold
feasts of fruit
grow in me-
garlanding Thee
From somewhere, out of nowhere, dared she walk this way,
Glide in silk swathed ambience and reaching with a smile,
In scent of spiced magnolia, beseeching all the while,
With the logic of a goddess weaved in all she had to say.
All the days dissolved in raptures, garlanding my muse,
Arms to bear my yearning and embracing of my sex,
With a tongue to taste the secrets, effacing and complex,
And the empathy of sisters, kicking off the dead man's shoes.
In the dying of each hour dreamed the fanning of the flame,
She brushed upon the tissues as a tide upon the shore
And revealed my inner being, opened wide for ever more,
That I realised in hunger things would never be the same.
From somewhere, out of nowhere, exhaled an angels' breath,
Infused with silent fanfares entreating me to rest,
When her essence fills my body, the beating of my breast
Expressed a love, supreme and pure, defiant unto death.
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