Peaceful place
Enlighted with
The sweetness of the moon
Beautiful seabay
Immerged in a pretty
Sky tenderness
Beauteous scenery
Located behind
The cliff highness
Sumptuous frame
Implanted on a natural temple,
Happiness for idyllic strolls!
Light by such a night
Is a wonderful reflect of the full moon
Then, one of the lovely rules taken
From a sweet evening,
Should be...Peace, Light and Love!
©Rita Solis Radius. Sept 5th 2020. Short poems session about #PeaceLightLove.
Original texts. All rights reserved.
Categories:
immerged, nature,
Form: Ode
My Days
I’m trying to remember every day of my life
Even before I stopped believing in religion
And Santa Claus I have to start from the bottom
And work my way up.
It is a herculean task, so many days are hazy
I have to break through this fog to see
Decisions I took and understood why.
My insecurities have to be examined as
My tendency to volcanic anger and out way
And how my personality immerged to what
I’m today.
I want my days to be crystal clear like
An uncut diamond polished by time.
To do this, I must be ruthless and don’t find
Excuses and omission to be totally honest
May not be possible, but I will try.
Categories:
immerged, allusion, birth, creation,
Form: Blank verse
I never knew I'd be in heaven
In the autumn of my years,
Or that I'd be immerged
In the brilliant art of words,
Or float above operatic notes,
Or view ballet through
My elated tears.
I never thought I'd meet
Inspiration face to face,
Or feel it rise within me
With a poet's surrendering grace.
I just know that I'm contented
As profound love keeps flowing
From my impassioned heart.
This is the gift that artists
Of this world yearn to impart.
8-3-2017 (rev)
What inspires you to write poetry Contest 3rd place
Sponsor Julie Rodeheaver
Categories:
immerged, art, autumn, inspirational, introspection,
Form: Dramatic Verse
I love the myriads of mystic stream,
and so I wade into their wonder flow
and drift with them as if inside a dream.
I follow them wherever they may go.
I long to know their depths and be immerged,
to feel them fresh and singing in my soul;
to grasp them well, at times, I can be purged.
They glisten gold as fish among a shoal.
Immortal, they are yesteryear’s. . . Today
they tell the tales of old that never died.
I catch the ones with which I wish to play,
rejoicing when they take me for a ride. . .
When grouped uniquely they can soar like birds.
I’ll follow them forever - shining words!
*Not sure what to put in my note except that I sometimes try to emulate classic poets such as Emily Dickinson.
For the Ars Poetica Poetry Contest of Thomas Martin
Categories:
immerged,
Form: Sonnet