On a lustrous November night
Along each gliding way;
The thrill of my childhood beckoned
Into the woods that day--
Where in the hush so intricate
That pulsed lithesome yet clear,
I heard a dulcet voice singing
Only those pure may hear-
A jingle through fall's pewter leaves
A quiver through the boughs ...
Till a maiden fey drifted by
My, that was long ago
Did some young magic enthrall me?
I'll really never know !
always
bareheaded
but
can
dainty
element
from
grievous hubbub
in
lithesome
momentously
noninfectious
polytheistic
regimentals
sway
these
outdoor
twisty
unsensational
vibrational
with you
My Dream Within A Dream Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
9/16/2025
Edgar Allan Poe: "All that we see or seem / Is but a dream within a dream."
My Dream Within A Dream
Somnambulant dreamer,
Dancing in time to silent music,
Pirouetting arabesques,
And grand jetés performed as on stage.
While all around her people stared,
Astonished by what this darling dared.
Leaping, spinning, and body rolls,
She danced through her dream out of control.
Tumbles and twirls, tempo frenzied,
Her youth and beauty were so envied.
Lithesome grace utterly entrancing,
This young beauty caught dream dancing.
So lost in the dream, her steps faltered,
Lovely dancer, soon to be martyred.
Upon the pyre of lust and greed,
Selfish desires of the watchers' need,
Pulled against the dancer's grace,
And brought a tear to the lovely face.
The crowd's screams broke the count,
Her mistakes began to mount,
Until what once was sweet and pure,
Became something so unsure.
The dream, a nightmare instead,
The dance, a thing of terrible dread,
Our lovely dancer dreams no more.
Lithesome steps lead me to an ancient
temple
Perched across a bay, weeds and
hyacinths curl between my feet,
Where mist refills bowl of cotton clouds
As rustling breeze ascends on skyline's ladder.
In stillness, I lounge on the pew to whisper unsaid psalmic devotions
for a world which aches for calmer
retreat--
That I reach a peak where the mind
becomes absent--
Then I hear them , a medley of peals
Lifting me higher in regulated tempo from gong
rhythms,
A music swelling in warm temperance Until warm kiln of light and radiant
fireflies stir my kundalini.
On this treasured moment, a sentient
energy
Cleanses my beingness from past sins -- mortal and venial-
That I listen to the clang of my inner child's soft echoes entering my veins:
Somewhere in blank spaces, bells swing of
innocent laughter...a treble,
a clap
bringing me to the kindness of youth,
And my body stays quiet, welcoming this rite of
passage on days when the spirit calls for an
interlude's break...a meditative
connection with
the self--
without the need to speak.
Elithene
The river nymph she calls to me in her fluid tones
of bubbling ecstasy.
Her echo soaking each flower and frond, every stone she strokes with lithesome bond.
Living grace of life and light, calling, singing
the day and the night.
At her feet, froth, as stiffened lace,
flowing down in tiered
liquid space.
And at her neck there rises a rapid frill
of foaming white
in overspill.
How I love her!
and name her mine
for all her ethereal quiver
For she is that which knows no time
She is Elithene, nymph of the river.
Lithesome words like ‘love’, ‘loyalty’
And ‘liberty’
Lie, like mollusks on the sea
Bed; closed clam shut
Not revealing
Anything but
An unctuous feeling
And when prized open
By a devouring question
The contents give one
Indigestion.
So let’s not swallow
Such squirming terms
These loathsome, lithesome, worming words.
Meaningless and absurd
But if they are our sole default,
Let us take them with a pinch of salt.
© Barry Freeman – 18th September 2020
CHARM SCHOOL
They found two heavy charmed quarks,
the other one, straight up for larks.
One up and two splendidly rotund,
you ain't heavy, you're a baryon.
A poised new baryon in inner space,
you’ll define and describe your place.
What flavor is there for today,
in your fleeting quick decay.
Collided winks in mass array,
a subatomic burst display.
A glimpse of lithesome spinning up,
with your two roly-poly pups.
On binary cycle mass to mass,
heavy bits just moving past.
In pas de deux the lithesome one,
sails around the chunky ton.
Your four times heavier than most,
a source of energy is not your boast.
But may the Strong Force be with thee,
as we foretell in Q C D.
We just hate what you’ve been named,
It’s greek to us and so untamed.
Called: ka-sigh-see-see-plus-plus,
I dub thee, Hippo-part-icus.
-Edlynn Nau
Written: October 7, 2017
©April 8, 2019
This was after this new unusual particle was discovered in July of 2017 and I’m just getting around to finishing it. Dedicated to the team of the LHCb experiment.
A needled wail reeks from his dusky face
while gnawing thoughts keep the moon awake,
praying for grace to ebb the lonely tides
that he blesses another empty night for godly luck--
Out there thin arms recoil …in urgent need
a street child who droops low with hunger …grief.
He dream-walks once more, all the more
to become a youngster along playground of fields
at the soonest time in a place called home,
where life is more than crumbs, where laughter glows
through lithesome family scene… and not a plague:
But wishes tear fast like newspaper rags
when midnights play a broken lullaby--
Till daybreak croons new streak of faith
as gauzy eyes yearn life’s reprieve,
believing wilfully in divine bread …
his morsel, his finest tomorrow called home.
Tomorrow Contest of Edward Ibeh
11/21/2018
Blithesome autumn comes on cue
Each year to chase the heat away.
As summer starts to fade from view,
Unique fall will seize the day.
Turning leaves to brown and gold
Is one of autumn’s specialties.
Feel the air grow crisp and bold!
Utmost seasonal traits please
Lovers of how flannel feels,
Frost that glistens, “Trick or Treat!”
And families’ Thanksgiving meals.
Late autumn brings December’s beat.
Listen! It’s carols. Fall is complete!
I know the land where the lemon-trees flower,
South of the border, in the Sunshine State.
Where the warmth lifts up a lithesome sunflower
and the sour juice cleanses my fruitful plate.
The warm breezes
my wan spirit seizes.
The palm trees sway.
I dance with them.
I know the land where the lemon-trees flower,
where my ivory skin tans and citrus dyes my hair,
where the scent of the beaches overpower,
into the loving eyes of a weeklong vacation I stare.
The warm breezes
my wan spirit seizes.
The palm trees sway.
I dance with them.
Yes, I know that scented peninsula, so close
to my home, that undulates like waves with gentility.
The coconut beaches pound out its mighty prose
and I sing with open palms, bare feet and fertility.
The warm breezes
my wan spirit seizes.
The palm trees sway.
I dance with them.
7/31/2018
Pretty Poem Please Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
There was a time when she lit up
in the firmness of youth-- like a rose on an April
morn greeting daylight with a petal-soft kiss.
And the lively wind rustled her orange pinafore...
Oh, a time when she was young innocent .
But life's compass denies a woman
fresher years , amber hair becomes grey locks
of winter— thin as flakes where breaths
succumb to chilled murmurings of discontent;
the summer flame turning into weary longings.
Yet comes another time when the breeze
at last returns, to caress a wrinkled face
and allow her once lithesome spirit to play on,
shrieking giddily, then wailing at flowers
from nowhere: through a realm weightless
this flight back to childhood quickly dims--
those touch- and- go pleasures unknown
by her memory lost, her own name forgotten.
Poetry For The Sake Of Poetry Contest
Sponsor: john lawless 6/2/2018
Sometimes, having some only, can be irksome.
For many lonesome folk like being alone,
fearsome foes can be feeble foibles,
a lithesome limb can lie limp through lethargy,
being cumbersome can be troublesome,
the meddlesome can be quarrelsome,
the awesome can be astonishingly awful,
the fulsome can be disgusting in gluttony,
and the flavorsome often leave a lingering taint.
So getting only some, to winsome, at least,
often leaves one unwholesome, worrisome,
wearisome and unfulfilled, unsated.
For some only, is never enough some.
In this closet darkness pervades,
the door has been locked from the inside.
Curled in the corner, eyes shut, she remains.
Unseen demons there await
outside in the moon light.
Flowers dance while sweet music plays as
lithesome images pass through her mind,
her dreams laid bare this long lonely day,
all of the fantasies she'll never find.
Beneath closed eyelids
her golden prince rescues her
from endless darkness.
I have no golden armor,
yet my arms can still hold you.
04/19/2018
For BW's "It's All About Four" Poetry Contest
Fairy Trees
in my wood
there are lithesome
trees of delicate winter hue
a grove brings love
and sisterhood into the
the darker few.
they dance wild, among storms
cued across the mountains,
touching one another
with thrashing limbs
holding fast their roots
deep within the soil.
summer breezes
bring lacy crowns
of palest tender green
they bow and bend
with courtly pomp
toward each sister tree.
then fall, again,
steals green away
replacing it with gold
but still they stay
steadfast and true
to promises of old.
Lithesome lines of rapturous rhymes and torrid truths,
Written with piteous pleas and tantalized tease;
Left to others' wits to be interpretive sleuths
Of our loves, lusts, confessional musts and envies.
Rhythm ripping or cadence caressing penned words,
Weeping a caustic choice or singing a heart's rejoice;
Gathered in silken sentiments or stampeding herds
Inkwell of traipsing thoughts etched in poetic voice.
Susan Ashley
October 16, 2017
*'The Love Letter' - Painting by Samuel Luke Fildes*
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