Long Evanesced Poems
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Written: November 17, 2025
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The night used to gargle with garrulous joy—
canorous crickets, a capacious choir
beneath the diaphanous veil of dusk.
Now, only the hissing of wires,
the gaseous hum of machines
careen through the cloudscape.
I prowl the porch at the moon’s behest,
a flaneur of vanished felicity,
searching for the fetching fipple-song
that once gamboled through the grass.
But the calyx is closed.
The petiole wilted.
The elixir of sound—evanesced.
Where once the heron slept
and the wisteria wore its tiara of dew,
now lies a threadbare hush,
a dismal hex of silence.
The garden, once gaudy with chirps,
It is a byzantine grave of elision.
Did we disassemble for too long?
Rake too deep?
Abase the earth with hubris
And flapdoodle dreams of dominion?
Did our egregious hunger
for luster and control
writhe the world into quiet?
Light evanesced upon his leaving
with the final choke of dusk--
the fragrance of orchids wisping softly
and I shiver...vapid, empty
clouds swallowing the kiln of lamppost-
and into the restless clang
from winds booming,
the dirge of hummingbirds stutters
which makes noises louder
than my groans-- the ceiling of sky
breaking like splinters of glass-
and among incandescent stars,
our distant, intermittent rendezvous
withers as my peppered tears grate
the bitter tincture of night's burial
from all his trespasses,
a body language
coiled in stale cocoon...his words
barbed as jailed verses ...
unuttered ,unsaid.
Starshine and silhouettes
Happiness was mine
as our shadows danced under the moon
Silhouettes of starshine's glimmer
as you glide across the room
Shadows escaping each other
as our silhouettes they evanesced
Mesmerized by your celestial spectacle,
I had to catch my breath
Intrinsic energy and emotions
accelerating fusion all through the night
My shadow danced in time with your silhouette
and I knew that you were mine.
John Derek Hamilton
May 01,2016
How heavenly was your love,
As innocent and pure as a dove,
It was quite late that I realised,
Living without you was at such a price !
You were running red into my veins,
Holding my heart's thumping reins,
An all time interminable thought,
As if nature intrigued some plot !
Twilights of my mornings were bright,
Vibrant thoughts had no lonesome fight,
Appreciating His amazing ways,
You were absolutely my only craze !
If I had not taken you for granted,
Colours in life would have been enchanting,
Rainbow evanesced, as if after sunshine,
You could be my only addicting red wine !
A seaweed beyond reach of a wave,
Makes every bit of the heart to crave,
Love can die of truth as friendship of a lie,
Tipped with gold, comes as a butterfly !
Written on 29/7/14
For contest- Vibrant verse
By Charlotte Puddifoot
Continued from Part 1
The orphans and widows lean into the breeze
watching horrified hangmen descend to their knees
for the angel of mercy’s no longer inclined
to forgive vengeful phantoms (oh Furies of night!) ,
I’ll not leave you behind.
The bandits are brazen, the highwaymen lurk,
some imbibing dark brews of a hag’s handiwork,
mostly gulping from goblets like goblins maligned.
Woman! Widen your wings, catching wisps of the wind
I’ll not leave you behind.
The lepers laugh, leaping from tombstones of steel
chasing rollaway caskets on luminous wheels;
while their shadows shake, shrouded, twixt trees intertwined,
twisted time melts at midnight, take hold of my hand,
I’ll not leave you behind.
The gremlins grope, grinning face down in the dust,
while the sprites and the pixies are watching nonplussed.
They sling bolted arrows at spectres enshrined
within winds somewhat flustered, just fly from your fears
I’ll not leave you behind.
The tattered toy teddies and raggedy Anns
have escaped to the skyways in kid caravans
but now, spellbound by fancies, know not that they’ll find
their parade’s evanesced into echoes of dawn –
I’ll not leave you behind.
The wind’s my enchantress, beguiles and commands
me to search for my fortune in faraway lands
and whispers her mysteries of passions entwined,
for the wind is Isolde – unfurling my sails
I’ll not leave you behind.
End
Prophesies by seers may be derided and prophets may be lampooned. But time may prove them right" By Poet.
There was none to listen to him.
His words were like:
-A cry in the wilderness
that broke and shattered on woody trunks.
-The howl of a lone wolf
that rose in the dead of the night.
-The cry of an infant
that told the world, it was hungry.
-The cacophony of discordant orchestra
that left a jarring effect on the listeners.
His words sounded meaningless,
to a world that spoke a different tongue.
With no receptacle, his words like heated waters
evanesced into vapour and billowed upwards,
like coils of smoke to freeze into clouds.
One day it rained down,
quite unexpected…….
with thunder and lightning!
Dripping emotions end
When dripping emotions end up in stare,
all churned up humour, fuming breaths of flair,
Subtle shreds of heart foresee no mend,
a waning smile these tender pieces pretend,
Shuddered by endless tides of strife,
evanesced the faintest melody of my life,
Plethora of thoughts and broken threads,
rests tranquil the soul, at deepest beds,
Expressions of ache, in vivid colours carved,
no twinkle in eyes, my looks are scarred.
Written Sept 15th, 2016
For contest "All the little pieces"
Sponsor- Broken wings
Entered for "Contest 203 any form max 14 lines" by Brian Strand