Long Glistening in the sun Poems
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Morning light wears a softer hue,
embracing wet leaves, glistening in the sun.
Thick grass brings a caressing warmth, to our feet,
as we travel gentle slopes,
to farthest hills, as lovers do.
Our palms closed tight like oyster shells,
covering rare pearls,
as we watch pastel red skies turn a velvet blue
If I were a bird I would glide above you,
dipping my wing each time you smiled,
allowing love's fragrance to fill our lungs,
until they burst, releasing butterflies into the world,
like a thousand tiny finger paintings,
surrounding the innocence of love,
that comes when two mouths melt in silence.
Oh Vanity Thy Name is Metro-Man
At the gym,
admiring his bulging biceps in a giant mirror,
he reaches for his ever-ready smart phone
and stops to make a boastful tweet.
Driving home, sipping his protein drink,
he involuntarily sneers
noticing construction workers on a roof,
their strong bronzed arms glistening in the sun.
He makes a mental note
to stop off at the tanning booth tomorrow.
At the salon, and after his daily massage,
he lies back for his manscape.
Oh, how it hurts, he inwardly groans,
but as he contemplates how the hotties at the pool
will love his baby smooth skin,
a smile lifts the corners of his mouth.
At his sterile home
with its many beautiful toys meant to entertain
the largest and oldest of grown-up boys,
he goes to his social media account
eager to relate how just today
he broke his personal best bench press record
Before bed, he brushes and carefully flosses
and then applies his special lotions.
Looking down at his manhood, he smiles again
until the thought
of pushing papers at the office
flits through his mind:
Oh the drudgery that I must endure
to afford my awesome life!
July 10, 2017 for the Modern Vanity Contest of Lewis Raynes
I watched the sunshine kissed her toes
Slowly moving to her thighs
How I envied the sun
Kissing that gorgeous brown skin
I sat in the shade yet my temperature rose
Imagination carrying me away
To that week we first met
When our love began to bloom
We kissed beneath the moon
Our surrogate for the sun
Reflecting in her eyes
Oh how I ached for her touch
My soul and body electrified
Now I watch her skin glistening in the sun
I can no longer wait
I walk over
Lean down
Give those sun kissed lips a kiss
She opens her eyes
She smiles
My world is made complete
Poetess Darkly
A Kiss is just a Kiss Contest
I watch the rising sun of morning glow behind you
inviting my eyes to pause in soft amber light
which frames your beauty
warming my heart with a smile
bursting the seed pods of passion
allowing them to float endlessly... through my soul
pouring desire into the eyes of love
until they overflow and drip like dew from leaves
glistening in the sun spiraling towards Earth
leaving a wondrous glint in the eyes
could that this moment never end
nor escape into the unknown
Bathed is my essence in sweet dew of dawn
and wondrous is the glint that luster your eyes
as I radiate morning-glory grandeur
within your golden gaze of ardor
whose fervent seeds sow saffron dreams
wishing to possess and be possessed
I reach for you surrendering in softest amber light
luscious in the bloom of morn
captured in the nectar of each breath
taken in the heated heights of desire’s depths
this moment an amaranth
thrilling this twinkling of time never to fade like a distant star
Frederic Parker and Susan Ashley
(a collaboration)
June 2, 2019
~ Poem Of The Day ~
June 3, 2019
(celebrated on Frederic Parker's page)
Special note: it is indeed an honor to share in the wonderful recognition of Poem Of The Day with my inspiring and gifted collaborator, Frederic Parker.
Frederic, thank you for initiating this beautiful piece and for inviting me to create poetry with you. I cherish our beautiful and fruitful poetic fellowship, dear poet, dear friend.
Poet’s note: Frederic, it was both a thrill and an honor to be invited to collaborate with you on this very special and romantic poem. Your tender, breathtaking artistry touched my heart and charmed my imagination. You truly inspired me with the gift of your expressive talent and golden pen. Thank you, dear poet and my dear friend, for a beautiful creative experience.
Ascending the mountaintop, drawn to the realm eagles glide,
With unfurled wings locked on a cruise, eyes glistening in the sun,
I heave over the crest of crags, my mind, on the dizzy brow,
Pulled by the dew, the sunbath, the soft echoes of rhythmic
Pitter-patter of dew drops, and the charming panorama.
Above the clouds, glossy dew dribbles calmly, chills summer,
Warms winter. Blooming flowers bow at the whiff of the wind.
Honey jets from hives like milk from udders of pampered flocks.
On the plane, my eyes stretch to where the sky embraces the sea—
Blue with blue in lovers' hug. I soak heaven's elixir!
Earth rumbles, jostles for breath, sinking in the mire of death.
I dread... no! Dare I think of the grumble, the jostling against
One another for what is not, what drains off like rain from a rock?
On the plane, I float with the clouds, tanning in the sun.
© 2015 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
When it suddenly appeared yesterday ( I didn’t hear or see it form )
I had a chance to experience the quiet of a storm.
I was enjoying a beautiful afternoon…surveying our domain
when in the midst of all the sunshine…it began to rain.
No thunder…no lightning…which, at first, made it hard to tell
until I saw raindrops glistening in the sun as to the ground they fell.
Some raindrops landed on the leaves of many an outstretched tree
and when I stuck my hand out…some found their way to me.
Standing there and watching…not only was I thoroughly entertained
but I found myself mesmerized by the gentleness of the rain.
And I thought how the message we are sending on the wind these days
is so completely wrong….
How it’s not the loud, the brash, the cruel and abusive…
but the gentle who are strong.
Just as there is no soil rough enough that a gentle rain can’t smooth…
there is no heartache deep enough that a gentle touch can’t soothe.
Many a soul has been softened by the gentleness of a rhyme
and even the strongest hate can be mellowed by a gentle love through time.
I have seen the full and heavy branches gently bow
so people can pick apples from their trees…..
and who out there has not been cooled by a gentle summer breeze.
Yes, gentleness is all around us…if we stop to look a while
A gentle walk, a gentle word, a gentle squeeze…a gentle smile.
Perhaps the value of a life is in the way we allow our gentleness to flow…
perhaps we’re meant to live a gentle life…filled with gentle love…
and in the end…just like a summer rain…
Move on gently when it’s time to go.
Beautiful downtown Atlanta
Sunny, blue, cloudless sky
Tall, wide, massive buildings
Window glass glistening in the sun
Beautiful, well-dressed people
Gainfully employed people
Taking care of business people
Running essential errands
Contributing to the community
Pursuing positive, purposeful lives.
I take in the sights, sounds, smells
Sounds of people walking, talking
Engines revving and car horns honking
Smells of restaurants and fast food vendors
Engine exhaust and overheated brakes
Feel of the sidewalk
Under my expensive dress shoes
Heat of the sun on my face and neck
Exciting hustle and bustle
Of a thriving metropolis.
A faint, “Please, sir …” reaches my ears
And a homeless man appears
Dirty, disheveled, hirsute
“Please, sir, could you …”
I divert my eyes, quicken my pace
Ignoring his petty pleas
His weak speech trails off
As he disappears in my wake
Bothersome soul, good riddance!
Why doesn’t the city do something?
Days later the encounter troubled me
I was so proud of the way I handled myself
How easy it is to dismiss a soul in need
Months later the encounter tormented me
Instead of the clever human I thought I was
I had become unfeeling, unkind, uncaring
Years later the encounter still haunts me
Never will it ever happen again
Never … ever …
We're so caught up
In everyday matters
That we often fail to see
All that this beautiful world offers
We're blind to many fascinating sights
In the world around us, out in nature
Even in the concrete jungle
How often do we pause and listen
To the arresting sounds of nature? To birds singing?
How often do we notice...
When homeless people smile at us?
We hardly see beyond the pain and sadness in their eyes
How many times have we missed a shooting star
While out in the dead of night?
Ever see an orchid in full bloom, burrowing...
Through a cracked concrete?
A spider web covered in dew
Glistening in the sun?
An embarrassment of riches, the beautiful things
In life, and in the world around us
STANDARD CONTEST 180,ANY FORM,ANY THEME,UPTO A MAX OF 20 LINES
Sponsored by Brian Strand (Winner: 1st Place)
Date written and posted: 07/26/2018
The machine stood glistening in the sun.
"The ceremony has just begun."
Thats what the news reporters said.
“It will kill millions of people in less than a minute.”
"Of course, it won’t be used unless we really need it.”
That’s what the military said.
"It took most of our resources to build it this way.”
“And we're sure our children will thank us one day.”
That’s what the politicians said.
The minister waited quietly until his time had come.
“Dear God forgive us for what we have done.”
That’s all he said.
“Great prayer, a fine benediction for where we stand."
"It is good to know God is watching over this land.”
That’s what they all said.
In the green garden there's a young lady
She runs her slender fingers across the fresh lilies'
The suns soft light licking tenderly at her alabaster skin
Her flower dress flowing down her figure like the regal wings of a forest fairy
And her eyes sparkle with unfettered thought, the colour of faraway seas
Her bright blonde hair falls freely to her shoulders as she watches
the suns homeward stroll begin
In the green garden, there's a fair woman
Her delicate fingers grasp a bible, a golden ring glinting from the suns glare
The drawstrings of her apron dangle against her wicker chairs
Waves of fertile purple lavender flirt with flanks of crimson petunias, glistening in the sun
Written words swim in the waves of her blue eyes, absorbed with educated care
The sun dreamily dips and disappears, heralding the days end
In the green garden there's an old widow
She watches the naked tree branches shift and shiver in the moons glow
Her slightly shaking hands hold tight to her chest an embroidered pillow
Beside her, a small girl absentmindedly plays with the fresh, frosted moss below
Poking out from her thick woollen jacket, the frills of her flower dress are speckled with mud, as the wind blows
Through her flowing blonde hair, her eyes the colour of waters yet unknown