Collated papers filed and the bills paid
as the kettle whistled invitingly.
My son’s laughter drifting in through the window—
I have forgotten to close the billowing drapes.
A sempiteral tableau.
An ephemeral scene crowds in:
The loud curtains tucking at my memory;
my son’s voice trapped in distress.
The kettle whimpered as it boiled dry—
old papers flutter in my periphery …
Donning my Sunday best,
I glance in the mirror—
a twinkle, a gleam in my eyes.
A special day today.
My eyes lift to the heavens,
a miracle in a way.
The stairs to the big blue sky
invitingly beckon mourners
between the hours
of never and forever,
within reach for those called home.
I tremble feebly on the first few steps,
casting a glance at the grand entrance.
Visiting hours—
around the clock.
It is a road well-travelled
for centuries,
a haven for resting souls.
Hope ignited by belief
that the Creator
keeps turning the pages
of the book of mortal souls—
coming home
to their final resting place.
My heart and mind don't align
I yearn for dreams to yield but vegetate
Putting off things for the very next day
My willpower is always at its lowest
Laziness floods my habits and goals
Until I drown in unsuccess.
The bed, so invitingly soft
It tempts me into a languid slumber
While a half-finished coffee mug
Sits cold on my window sill
My mobile phone, a dangerous distraction
As I scroll hours through social media when awake
Squandering my precious time away
My mind keeps dwelling on the past
Inundating memories of joy, sorrow and regrets
Serving no purpose
Then I slid into an eternity of pleasant thoughts
Of how to spend the next day of my life.
Her soft pink petals are invitingly fresh and bright
Next to many others displayed in colors that delight
She sits and patiently awaits on greenhouse shelves
And prays she is soon chosen, as her heart swells
She smiles as the morning sunlight warms the air
As her earthy scent wafts and attracts with flair
Her magenta blooms are lightly covered in mist
Her petals stir, welcoming the moist dew kiss
She hopes the sweet geranium lady will soon be here
Then soon hears her voice as she's getting near
Her petals whimsically gleam as her growing stems invite
As she sits attentively waiting, feeling proud and sprite
She feels her pot lifted from the crowded greenhouse floor
Delighted she was chosen and excited for what's instore
Her feet are now planted at her new home in a beautiful pot
Displayed amongst her blooming friends in a bright cool spot
She smiles as the morning breeze tickles her new blooms
And her sweet lady admires her beauty and fresh perfumes
She vows to zealously grow, with her petals blooming strong
In hopes her blooms deliver delightful gifts all summer long
In the realm of memories, there lies
an unforgettable smile, ethereal and
bright,
It etched its mark upon my soul on a
beautiful moonlit night.
It danced with joy, illuminating hearts
with its sweetness and charm.
It was invitingly radiant, friendly
and warm.
The smile was a simple gesture,
for in its presence, worries seemed
to vanish,
It was an unwavering light in the
darkest of times,
It spoke volumes in silence while
giving a nod of acknowledgement
and a feeling of relief.
Though the years have passed, and
time may fade,
Captivated by its magic, against my
will, the memory of that smile
forever stays in my soul.
For in that unforgettable smile,
for a brief moment, I saw a glimpse
of Heaven here on Earth.
by Zyrool
O, why did I fall for you, O' sun,
When my soul is nestled in the deeps?
Agape and afraid, my eyne mosey deeper still; they run,
Yet on the colder current your warmth invitingly sleeps.
The distance that defies the divine betwixt us
Somehow is no occlusion for you to reach me,
But gods 'gainst me guarding your gates, and hope's quietus,
Make my valentines reaching you an impossibility.
Somehow still, suffocated in these sorrowful seas,
I seem to mishear the rhythm of your limpid light
As a melody yearning to find the lost keys
To my manacles and enrapture me with your sight.
When finally I undo these tethers for you,
The cosmos Herself derides my dolorous deeps
Laved in a longing that over millennia grew,
And shrouds your smile with a prejudiced eclipse.
But I see you clad carnally in that cerecloth--
Why?--stoking the gypsy in me with your misconstrued call.
Why did you build that stairway of light and masquerading troth,
That I so eagerly took, thus perishing in a fall?
Was making dinner for my honey, mine.
I realized, alas, I added far too much thyme.
He whispered, “you are thinking way too much of rhyme!”
Quickly I filled us glasses, with ice-cold tonic, gin and lime.
That softened him and he softly whispered,
“Well, I guess after all, it’s no big crime.”
He was my love, so invitingly delicious and ever so sublime.
A peek for you, into my love-life’s, poetic summertime!
7/22/2022
~ 1 ~
It is so blind, it saw eyes, mouths, bodies, feet
imploring it's paint, it's beggars land, stroked
by hand.
It's can, faceted as one gem, drips only you.
The brush peels back, stroke by stroke, layer
by layer, new always differed you.
Each canvas, some happy, some mad, still it's
always you, is to Regina's sun.
The brush of lips, still trembles it, invitingly...why?
Lips brush the stroke, you make the paint, wants why?
The canvas is always full of different you, asks it,
is it not?
Respectable mirror to try on in you..why not?
It laughs at it's self, seeing a growth on it, so boss.
The rose drips, it is painted to it's natural blush,
as it's meant to be.
It is a struggle between the rose and it's blush, it's
a grippe so tight, the colors run at times, on it..you
still laugh amused.
It just cannot, as much as passion flames it's eye,
be reduced to frame, you in the boring same tired,
eyes of it is.
When every woman is her, she a Queen.
Google poetry James McLain
Shimmering shadows across the meadow trail
Dancing in the afternoon sun, glancing fondly
Toward the woodland coolness so invitingly,
Beckoning me to stroll beneath the canopy
Of overhanging branches hovering protectively
Like mothering arms holding the distraught.
A place to find one’s peace midst the enfolding
Vicissitudes of complex living, such as it is,
In these difficult, compelling times we share
Unable to discern principled directions clearly
While seeking what we feel we have earned,
Our fondest endeavors often reputedly lacking.
Shimmering shadows, ephemeral, as real as light,
Which we cannot take into outstretched hands
The branches swaying in a filtered breeze
Whispering consoling sighs, while suggesting
New imaginings, new lyrics set to new tunes
Bring fresh ways of thinking to mother’s child.
Written June 5, 2022
[Experimenting with
stream of consciousness
poetry]
submitted to "2022 Poetry Marathon Mile Eight"
sponsored by Mark Toney
There is nothing quite like a Sunday afternoon
Peaceful and uneventful with plenty of room
For pleasant conversation and, perhaps, a nap
Reminiscing and planning for the week ahead
Did I mention an hour or so cuddling in bed?
Especially when the sun is shining invitingly
A stroll through the park can be invigorating
Stopping for an ice cream on the way home
Just relaxing without succumbing to stresses
Indulging in some of life’s finer excesses.
written February 27, 2022
Words get lodged in my teeth,
a dentist has actually extracted a few.
My optometrist
wears her glasses like lingerie,
invitingly, and for a reason
known only to my libido - most sensually.
She goes fishing in my eyes.
with her bright penlight.
Once she stumbled over a word
she had never seen before.
My brain quickly put on its blindfold,
caught unawares.
An open window smiled invitingly,
she laughed and slowly crept into his room,
he slept on unaware of pending doom,
she smiled, her fangs a scary sight to see.
She softly stroked his face and kissed his throat,
he didn't waken as she broke the skin
and lapped the spurting blood that flooded in,
so sated that her form began to bloat.
Unseen, his wife was watching, grinning wide;
the vampire saved a former battered bride.
written 18th November for Constance's V (vampire) contest
Frozen Fantasy
By: Inking Al'Kallio
Loud noise and chattering voices, isn't distracting me like you.
I am frozen as ice and like medusa, your glance has turn me to stone.
Adorable and angelic like oshun grace bestowed. Your lip are sitting invitingly than athromedia's apples.
If cupid shot an arrow tonight and I fall into ecstasy, cover me with your body,
yeah, let it be my canopy.
If I'm lucky to have you,I won't push horizontal, I promise you tangency,oh with rhapsody of realities; Because you, my darling are my greatest fantasy.
Her blue eyes sparkled when she looked at me
She licked her lips and nodded her head, invitingly,
From that moment I was a true believer, you see,
Her blue eyes sparkled when she looked at me,
I knew in that moment our love was meant to be
That love at first sight is more than a possibility.
Her blue eyes sparkled when she looked at me
She licked her lips and nodded her head, invitingly.
written September 24, 2021
Like light falling
Across the shadows
On a misty morning
Like stars twinkling
Glimmering attractively
On a charcoal sky
Like tears tumbling
Down smooth cheeks
On a grieving promise
Like laughter roaring
Noisily and invitingly
On a breath of hope
Like hues of joy
Inspiring my dreams
On a moment in history
Like music pouring out
Faith and feeling
On a whispered vow
Like grace calming
Doubts and worry
On a reflection of wonder
Like serenity calling
Rustling leaves, inspiration
On the wings of love
These are the blessings sent down
When prayers reach the heart
Of the One who created our soul
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