Girdled Poems | Examples

Idyllic Retreat

In this charming retreat,
the silence of nature and hills talk to me,
whispers of forgotten tales in the breeze,
of hidden secrets of times bygone,
an era of luxury and grandeur,
where every stone holds a story untold.

In the marble statues and king-size portraits,
etched in elegance, they gaze through time,
their faces frozen in an eternal grace,
gripping the pulse of a golden age.
Laid in every nook and corner of the mansion,
they speak of grandeur 
of feasts and whispers in the halls,
of laughter echoing beneath crystal chandeliers.

The velvet curtains, the blinds drawn in quiet reverence,
softly filter the light, casting shadows of tranquility and peace,
the swimming pool in the front yard 
girdled by palm trees standing tall and erect like  silent sentry
the mango tree laden with fruits drooping over the pool 
a visual treat  for hungry eyes sore with city life.
and outside, the hills stand,
ancient and proud, keeping their vigil.
on the idyllic retreat 
where wealth and wisdom reign in peace.
and time slows, and memories breathe.

Pristine Isolation

Serene spread of cerulean sea
calmly cradles an emerged island,
girdled by slim silver garland.
Trees scaling cloudy cobalt sky,
complete picture of pristine isolation.
#3

Vagabond

“In chaotic times the madness of the drifter mind 
follows the footprints of the vagabond dreams”- 
Quote by poet  


The blue hills cascaded down the verdant slopes 
in the  rhythmic ripples of the tinted topography,  
cradled the charisma of the humming hamlet 
that once harbored my home and my dreams. 

With the sliding shadow of the cotton cloud, 
scaling the halcyon heights of the cerulean sky, 
my gallivanting dreams soared up high afloat 
with the colorful kites I loved to fly in the blue. 

The sparkling stream flinging up the fluid pearls, 
flowed with flamboyance  with my roving reverie,
girdled my teenage landscape in embracing loops, 
set in vagrant meanders of gliding garland of fancy. 

The paper boats I made with the motif of my dreams,  
drifted away in the current of the stream’s silver trail 
to the distant dreamland destination unknown, 
and on these I perceived my drifter fantasy sail. 

The surging storm swept across my turbulent time,
the capsized boats sank, the snapped kites flew away.
I turned into wandering driftwood dislodged from root,
searching the itinerant mind for the vagabond dreams.

Summoning Light

over occupied world
bewildering hodge-podge of people
pushing stress where it ought not to be

in the slim rays of late day
in the splattered mess of guttered streets
a homeless man asks for a light
for a half burnt cigarette 
then money for food
nerve knotted living squeezed between soiled fingers
                                                                       his fingers

most shove by him like gnats late for breeding
people in pinup poses
keep silent midst foul displacement
shun soiled annoyance like shoddy prospects

does a story untold, matter?
does all humanity deserve recognition?
maybe things just fall apart all on their own
maybe once there was a time when lushness oozed like honey 
                                          from a jar

homeless man seeks a light
unflagging energy to be seen
girdled by grit
a real mission
not to wipe away self like crumbs from a plate

sometimes we move in gray clouds
a pretense, unseeing squalor 
as vagabond pleas jar at comfort
our aligned security by uttering "No"
such feel good factors
defending synthetic spheres
that peer at screens
as light loses traction


Poem composed April 12, 2023

Childhood Nostalia

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 Paradox of the Sea

one calm, reposeful day, the wind chimes
played a rhapsody of serenity and peace.
each zephyr girdled by the ocean's air
layered the saltiness onto your skin.
a stroll on the esplanade rejuvenated
your dehydrated body and soul.
like a harbor for reflection, your mind
wandered about the limitless horizon,
swayed with the coconut trees'
branches and reached for the sun
against the silky, baby blue backdrop.
it was a perfect day to marvel at the world.
but, was the world enjoying it's view too?
in a contingent episode, nature showed
it's demeanor; it's fury ignited by infamy.
the unrestrained waters were beckoning,
tides were rising and waves caused
a raucous that solicited danger.
the quiet ambience was redacted,
chaos and madness in close vantage.
like that, life becomes at risk of desolation,
the untainted, crystalline sea waters that
created an idyll of a scene shifted to
a frame of terror and disturbance.
how absurd of nature to decoy a monster
from a then- tamed body of water.
a phenomenon of a tsunami
that can threatened the mere
spans of your homeland; an island,
a minute dot holding your little world.
you prayed that this day never comes.

Quest

The blue hills rolled down onto the pristine plains,
the verdant slope cascaded in rhythmic dance 
through the caring cradle of the humming hamlet 
where my abandoned home was once.

With the flotilla of the cotton clouds adrift, 
floating carefree on the cerulean sky,
my teenage joy soared high with the mind unbound, 
perched on the colorful kites I loved to fly.

The gliding brook filled with fluid patina of pearls, 
murmuring the song of flamboyant grandeur, 
girdled our house in an embracing loop 
of horse-shoe shaped meander.

My rainbow tinged paper boats followed 
the curling current’s smooth rippling trail,
on these I saw to a distant dreamland shore 
my childhood fantasy was setting sail.

The storm came, boats sank, and kites flew away, 
left me on the track of luring pursuit depressed.
I’m still wandering as driftwood in the wild,
holding in heart their image in my nostalgic quest.

__________________

September 28, 2021
For Brian Strand's contest Strànd No 1042

To the Lands Unknown

I slowly move towards a mount,
beyond which lies a devil's lake—
The lake of death.
Perhaps it is girdled with flowers,
where redbreasts croon in mournful tunes—
The lake of God.
Then it might be a childish fear
to meet lost people over there—
A lake unknown.


Date: 9th June, 2020
Triple Stanza Couplet Tail-Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina

Life, a Hurdle

Like a newborn babe
Girdled by
A colony of ants,
Like a bird in
A wooden cage,
Like a prisoner
In the Bastille,
Each human life
Is ensnared with
A great number
Of hurdles:
The path of life
Is never laden with
Silk and blossoms.
If we endeavour indeed,
We’ll attain life’s ambrosia.

A Place In the World Stage

An ancient land of east, lapped by two southern seas,
girdled by the range of the highest mountains on earth.

On multi-layers of its landscape mighty rivers meander, 
monsoon rains on the fertile fields make people happy.

Roots of eons-old civilization infused the native races,
immersed in the Vedic culture, the karmic way of life,
absorbed the foreign foray, tenets of unity in diversity.

On the pages of history the wheels of time turn slow, 
carrying the nation to its rightful place of eminence
in the world stage to play its role under the limelight.

The sun of opulent glory will rise in emerging horizon,
a new day will shine on the face of India, my country. 


January 14, 2020

Quiet

I am not a quiet person,
so if words are halted
somewhere in the apex of my lungs
or energy is girdled in my rib cage,
refusing to resonate with the beats of my heart,
there is something wrong
and i need you to know the difference between
how i am
and
how i should be

The Worst Betrayal, Suicide

It may sound selfish that I felt betrayal when you died, 
            but you vowed to never act upon those urges once more.
You lied time and time again, and o, how I vastly cried-
that last time I knew was different than before. 
                        You deceived me the moment you said goodbye in vain, 
now only heartbreaking memories of duplicity remain. 
I try to move on without anxiety, try not to complain,
      but a tragic breach of faith of was tragically conveyed.
            O, how I wish you would have felt the love and stayed-
                        you knew how to find happiness, you were just so afraid. 
So now I’m girdled in woe since you committed suicide, 
            left despondent and grief-stricken from this severe abhor.
      You shadowed me like midnight cascading in disdain-
            I feel utterly abandoned…FOR IT WAS ME WHO YOU BETRAYED.



___________________________
Date written: November 29, 2018
Contest: Fragmented Rhyme- November 2018 Writing Challenge 
Sponsor: Dear Heart

My Country

This is an ancient land lapped by two seas in the south,
          girdled by mountains the highest on the earth.
Many mighty rivers flow across this fertile land,
          monsoon rains wash the land where I took my birth.

An eon old civilization grew in west flank,
          permeated the native race of the land.
They assimilated flux of foreign invasion,
          made country’s diversity a unique brand.

Steeped in Vedic culture and the karmic way of life,
          takes pride in the invention of the zero.
In midst of medley of custom, language and belief
          modern times are now coming at a pace slow.

Time will come when the nation will take its rightful place
          in the world stage regaining its lost aura.
Glorious sun of eminence will rise in the east,
          shine on future of my country India.

August 24, 2018

(Form used in the poem is Doha which is a
Hindi form of self-contained couplet in which 
each 24 syllable line is split into two unequal
parts of 13 and 11 syllables)

Embroidery of Vellum

EMBROIDERY OF VELLUM

A clean poem composed
Thee vellum virgin
Lace betrothed in length
Your satin train embraced

Thee embroidery in apple gold
Girdled in silver refined
And curvature of silhouette
Delicate with subtle design

6/25/2017
Lyric Poem

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in baskets of silver
proverbs 25:11 Bible ESV version

New Creation

From bottom to top, 
my house was decayed. 
Through thousands of years 
of commands disobeyed.  
I girdled my loins 
to rebuild my home. 
I re-laid the foundation 
stone by stone. 
Brick by brick 
I rebuilt the walls. 
House was renewed with 
many victories small. 
I painted the house 
with colors of new zeal. 
I furnished it with 
virtues that heal. 
I planted the garden 
with flowers of love. 
I installed the fountains 
with waters from above. 
I sat in the garden 
admiring my creation. 
At last, to God 
I offered adoration.

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