An antique shovel pushes into sacred dirt,
sprinkled with cinnamon and crushed obsidian rose petals,
while a blazing bonfire roars,
lighting up the night sky.
Ravens watch with intense scrutiny,
the voices in my head quieting,
as snakes slither around my neck.
Opening a weathered pouch,
I remove ceremonial offerings:
bottles of blood-red wine and pristine garnets.
I place them among shedded snake skin,
gingerly replacing the earthen soil.
The intoxicating scent of dragon's blood surrounds me.
Orange flames crackle, mutating into the deepest blues.
Claret clouds partially cover the full moon.
Shadows of ebony horns dance within the in-between.
Melodious gothic hymns fill an anticipating soul.
Warm breath flirts with the back of my neck.
Razor-sharp nails gently glide against pale flesh.
A beautifully savage silhouette forms in the corner of my eye.
Tonight, I dance with Lilith
among the ashes of glorious destruction.
As I'm envisioning hundred and eight beads of garnet and pearl
Strung along a red braided string in hand of an Indian earl,
Colour pattern symbolizing country flag of his girl.
Rays of a warring star where the eclipse
Trying for his dune by the sands of the lighter eye
Kaleidoscope into which the opus
Right into night the stallions of colossal strike
And among the night lovers
Between the prismatic mare
A small trace to come to render
The array of less than fonder tears
For the belly of the sun is most in leisure
Where the velvet cast upturns the rain
Utmost to the lifting homage
The barring of the telling tie
Very close as comfort would hurry garnets in the snow
A feline so mystique where dreams collide with night
So nature along all boughs of love
For smitten in the shadows of the day
From dark-brown bare bones, blood-red garnets swing.
Green jade leaves spread their ballet-dancing shades.
In storms, these garnets, to twigs, tightly cling.
Knit with tender stems, these look like cockades.
Their prism hues shatter like topaz blades.
I see, in plums, calmness and tranquil growth.
How they valiantly face wild nature's wrath!
These little fruits hold divine elegance.
Never one could see in plums any sloth.
Each plum is a celestial resonance.
Black velvet night
diamanté lustrous glow
sumptuous V neck dip
enchanting lush graced serene
Dramatic gown
Coco Chanel garnets glint
palatial swooning art
indelible presence haunt
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Contest : Texture of Minimalism
Sponsor Nette Onclaud
17.11.25 : 4th Placing : Standard Contest
________________________
X-Ray
Seeing past the skin.
Everything is transparent.
Dark edges with azure bones.
Nothing is broken.
Portfolio is translucent.
A journey like no other.
A simple man just passing through.
Bones to the grave.
A new chapter awaits.
X-rays of the past.
With memories behind, you can fly at last.
A new body, a new spirit.
Inherit the clouds like oval garnets.
Melody at rest.
On air with balance.
A good life on earth.
Don’t weep for me in the dirt.
Up here there's no thirst.
Gems of sunset adorn
Gelid skies of Janus;
Garlands of blood-beads cast
Glints on glacial landscape,
Giving brief warm relief...
Glimmering sparks to thaw
Grief's glassy ice-shards.
Gorgeous antique bracelet
Golden twist on my wrist
Gems of deep red garnets
Glistening, glittering
Garnished with seeded pearls
Glowing soft milky white
Great grandmother’s bequest
This poem is made of iced coffee,
this poem is made of caffeinated black;
This poem is made of shredded soul,
this poem is made of whatever’s left;
This poem is made of garnets,
this poem is made of rose quartz;
This poem is made of a melody
this poem is made of the forgotten;
This poem is made of broken glass,
this poem is made of what shattered;
This poem is made of the damned,
this poem is made of wanton desire;
This poem is made of what’s retrograde,
this poem is made of everything direct;
This poem is made of awkward silence,
this poem is made of mindless chatter;
This poem is made of the first sunrise,
this poem is made of the final sunset;
This poem is made for bloody interpretation;
Who cares what this poem is made out of?
December evening, silver and scarlet
Icicles and tinsel shimmer
Festive lights like dazzling garnets
Begin to glitter, glow and glimmer
December evening, scarlet and silver
The darkest season’s full of light
And coldest, though a pleasant shiver
Is felt upon this silent, holy night.
Purple blooms, lost in amber noontime luster,
Fragrantly crowding, in richest beauty cluster.
Sunshine gold seems to shimmer just for her,
As red butterflies wander, with many a flutter!
Awash in garnets, green trees of summertime,
And golden sapphires, warm roses on a vine,
Sparkle all the memorable days, citrine shine,
And flashing colors, of a diamond sun divine!
cool mists and warm sun
draw forth rubies and garnets
magic from thin air
—————
THIRD PLACE WINNER
For the H Forms - Traditional Nature Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Checked with HowManySyllables.com
Written 03/02/2022
OUR BOUNTIFUL GOD
Our God is bountiful because
in one open pomegranate,
He shows us whole orchards
of rubies and garnets,
multiplied like the feast
from five loaves and two fish.
Our God is bountiful because
He sends blessings by angels
like dandelion seeds on feathery wings
to people far away.
Our God is bountiful because
He sacrificed His only Son
to bleed red floods
to immerse everyone,
like His rainbow arching over the world.
Our God is bountiful because...
I spent my day shopping for rubies
searching for jewels, glittering red
love of Venus, in strawberry stones
fortune favours, that's how they said.
diadem of diamonds, splashes amber
fierce blaze of fire, polished in shine
red rose pendant glowing in whims
superstellar color, garnets crystalline.
Here's the real ruby, in its royal scepter
pale moonlight, russet autumn shades
crowned on this ring, an euphoric cherry?
No, it's just a fake, the tint masquerades.
Her wedding dress of red silk brocade,
poppies and buttercups sewn to the hem.
A matching ruby to flicker a misaligned fate,
a hardened heart buys, the blood red gem.
19th July 2020
Sponsor Julia Ward
Contest Name First Line Prompt - 3 |
She had the utmost prettiest of pretty things
Ruby bracelets, broaches of garnets, diamond rings
Some looked up to her because of her fancy clothes.
Who these thinkers were providence only knows.
I waited for her to make her move, not yet impressed.
She was all of that, beautiful, and gorgeously dressed.
I suspected she would be vile, selfish, insanely mean.
But instead she had kindness such as I had never seen.
\
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