Gilded Poems - Poems about Gilded

IN A GILDED INSTANT The monarch’s wings opened as a picture book, fluttering by. It glided, uncertain but undeterred, through a gentle haze of gold and shadow, the garden’s hush punctuated by the faint murmur of leaves. Sunlight filtered in rare skeins, dappling the monarch’s patterned wings as it hovered, hesitated, and then pressed onward—a flicker...

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The Gilded Age by Mark Twain in his 1873 novel /The Gilded Age: A Tale of Today, which satirized the era's materialism and political corruption is just what this King has ordered in his Megabill —Poetess There was economic prosperity, tho unconscionable social inequality as a few “robber barons” tycoons amassed great fortunes, whereas degradation inflicted dire poverty, mass...

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I call it a palace - my life - gilded and draped in fine silks, where chandeliers shine like false smiles, And the walls echo laughter that isn't mine, but beneath the velvet curtains lies the bruise of silence, a scream stitched with silver thread. The hand that feeds wears rings - daggers with diamond tips hidden...

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In the hour of each golden dawn nature exposes her ambient light. She weaves pastel threads aloft as sunlight becomes a gifted artist painting the day as a gilded tapestry. ...

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Morning's golden light showers damp Misty mare beauty in its breath River's silent stream flows where it stood Petals shimmer in earthy embrace When waves harmonized with calm air Life's gritty stains are washed away Sun shines proud on its ground Tattle spins, lost in its warm reverie Blinded by the brightest stroke Even radiance was deemed nothing Waves came and went as days...

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I look at stars in sky of midnight blue Moonlight and roses remind me of you I see and hear you in all sorts of things In the babbling brooks, rivers, streams and springs. Birdsong in the morning, droplets of dew White clouds passing by, and bright sunshine too In the patter of soft showers of rain In the rendition of a...

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This happened last Fall, during Thanksgiving break. Lisa and I were at the MET (The Metropolitan Museum of Art), with her family, at an exhibit of Art Deco sculpture. Lisa and I came out of a gallery and there was a group of older adults gathered near a bar. “Hermé!” Lisa suddenly squealed. “Come on,” she said,...

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Gilded Crosses? By Mark D. Stucky Shiny icons gleaming on altars? And hanging from necks on gilded chains? No. Not back then… Not golden, not metal, not shiny, not slick, not smooth, not symmetrical, ...

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he watches me and whispers, come- then ... I am within the frame with him ...

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Summer's green vistas sang a farewell tune as bare limbs gently swayed in a chill wind. It swept o'er hills, beneath a harvest moon, filching leaves; a theft it could not rescind. Autumn is gilded with bucolic hues. Fawn feathered birds wing in indigo skies. Burnished umbers and rusts imbued with blues on a landscaped palette, my eyes apprise. Nature's artistry paints...

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Bumped between summer sweat and winter wallop ~ Fall’s gilded glory glows Drowsy diurnal dreams drop like raindrips ~ from my quenching quill ...

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Lost in a labyrinth of Glistening sights Infinitely out of reach, Trembling amidst sweeping mistrals, Fabricating a life of nostalgic allusions, Caught in lapsed reveries, of Restless arias and faint rustlings Sequestering my rampant aura, Bleeding in russet naivety, Evaporating in silent elegies....

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Dawn's light awakened sleepy eyes ~ twas of sunflowers in the meadow greeting their namesake an ochre field in full bloom ~ petals gold gilded Brown-eyed cyclops swaying in the breeze Like turbulent waves in roiling seas Standing upright on stems of great height Sunflowers bow their heads at twilight June 9, 2023 A Monoku, Haiku and 4 Lines of Rhyme Sponsored by Tania Kitchin...

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In my heart, Where it all starts, I’ll build a cage for you; Bring you wine and food. I’ll tend your every need, Patch you when you bleed. Trapped within my mind, You won’t leave me behind. I’ll write new dreams for us: They will be glorious! So much that we will do, Adventures shared by two. The endless games we’ll play Ensure...

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The adulterer and adulteress rode In a gilded carriage, while horses strode Many looked on with pride Others hated the ride Most of the world yawned in blasé mode I had some thoughts when they said he was the leader of the Church Of England....

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