Long Prettily Poems
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All of sudden the day is ending again and the night approaches with giants steps to send this
great world of ours,to a tender sleep, with her teasin' grin~
I open wide my arms welcoming her with a ready smile because I know that after this,
another day will just begin~
Counting the hours I watch the clock sitting prettily by, staring always with its blank
expression at me~
And little by little the second, minutes and hours tickled by me, reassuring me with her final
breath till the end of another wonderful,God given day,which it for me has been,
Moment by moment the day stretches more and then darkness starts to pour out moonlight
and stars, bringing
Closer and closer again another night,
Yes the day is dying it is true but that only means that when the night expires too, we will see
with great joy another one with the new sun light~
I then I can hear once again over and over the rustling sound of the dried leaves, being
lullaby, by the wind all the way to the top of the trees~
And all the while I steal a glimpse to all the beauty of the bluest sky sprinkling again all its
blessings to every single creature staring back at me~
Singing gloriously to God are the birds perched from tall trees as the butterflies happily
flutter around with some dragonflies and bees too!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2009
March,3,2009
I love my birthday badly
will welcome my friends gladly
they will come in twos and threes
bringing along September breeze
I do not like chocolate cake
pie and cheeses is what I will make
the gifts will pile up at the door
there will be gag presents and much more
I am a September baby, living her dream
fulfilling my own wishes, poet supreme
writing my feelings, down on a page
showing my sassiness, my feelings and my rage.
The words come so easily, and prettily too.
You want to come to the party? Well, why don’t you?
There is room for another guest always at my home.
Where I currently sit, writing this little poem.
How beautiful is what I see today
peeking from the green
and almost unseen,
blossoming for me – the first rose of May!
While she’s in the pink,
time is but a blink.
In this merry month, oblivious is she
to what’s to come as she poses prettily -
destiny evading
Her joy for now is sweet. What can she know
of life’s suffering?
She hears robins sing.
On her face, tears are but a dewy glow.
She is hope anew
now that she’s in view!
Will she – like me – feel her soul plunge to sorrow?
Or will I – like her – be until tomorrow
destiny evading. . .
a wish faint and fading?
May 21, 2018 for Broken Wing's "Let Your Pen Drip" Contest
Uses Gregory Barden's invented Qarinage Rhyme Pattern. See notes above.
For 'THE CRAP SHOOT POETRY CONTEST' Poetry Contest of John Lawless
We are the nouns, the mighty tidy nouns
house cat, mouse, bat, zebras, elephants and gowns
you’re nothing without us, the verbs smirk, laugh and say
twirling, whirling, dancing, singing, along the way
the adjectives and adverbs laugh at these arrogant two
You might be the wood and concrete, but we are the glue
without us you cannot be mammoth, tiny, cold or blue
this was from a frustrated adjective named McGrue.
or dance daintily or prettily said an arrogant adverb
thinking you are all that without the others is kind of absurd
a peacekeeping preposition tried to make a pact,looking at each side.
over, under, upside down, around and through, his name was McBride.
If I were a lamb,
I would be a favourite of the priest's.
I, being so docile and so sweet,
Would hold very still when they loop the rope
Around my neck. And then I would trot
So happily along, with no need for encouragement—
All the way to the altar, I would trot
With the rope constricted around my neck.
They do not have to tie me down; I will do all the work
For them, and I will perhaps bleat once or twice
But I lie ever so silent and still.
My limbs are so soft that the knife is met with no resistance
As it cuts through them like butter. I bleed so prettily
All over my new, white wool
That I can tell the priest holds pride.
I am exultant for my guts to unspool,
Like the most beautiful shining silk you ever did see—
And within my eyes there is no pain; they hold no
Accusation: they are just animal and dumb.
When I die, I do not stay away for long:
I am then a lamb again, with a thick, woollen coat—
And how the priest does love me so
That, for the sacrifice, I am picked again.
He loves to stroke me and touch my gentle limbs
As I am all his to love. The knife and I, we are friends:
So, when the time comes, I hold very still
As they wrap the rope around my neck,
And proceed to kiss me through the cold metal of the knife—
So intimate; so loving. I bleed all for them.
How delicately upon the wooden floor
My dead body lies.
Transporting you to childhood days…
I*’ll carry your heart to mirth-filled place
Glowing with exuberant magical rays
Vanquishing gloom of boredom mace
Leaving contagious radiance on your face.
Join me in this blessed jubilant ride
Whirling along merry-go-round tide
Such is kids’ achievement of sweet pride
Undeniable triumph joyous scream can’t hide…
Remember your glee-brightened grin, prettily wide?
To your special child, I offer purest delight
Calming down his bouts with spastic blight…
Come sit with him toward blissful bonding flight
Soar above wheelchair’s security-might
Braced by faith’s power** --- held by God, lovingly tight.
* Carousel personified
Personification in Rhyme form
**Psalm 68:35 …God … is he that giveth strength and power unto his people. Blessed be God.
April 3, 2020
2nd place, "Carousel Picture Prompt" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper; judged on 4/7/2020.
Wearing ragged and untidy clothes at night,
There was no make-up but a little dust on our faces,
With improvised instruments made by little hands
We let people felt the spirit of Christmas
Our voices, our innocence, our sincerity!
Heard us singing old songs of Christmas.
As we walked along the street filled with glow,
Lanterns were shining on each home.
Vendors were selling Christmas goodies.
Couples shared sweet nothings watching fireworks.
Every family happily walked to the park
Watching Santa Claus giving gifts to young children.
Just to celebrate and cherish the time of Christmas
Which made the moment bright and meaningful.
But I made a Christmas memory on my own,
With my friends visiting astounding houses.
Started to make a concert on our own,
Pretending we were pop idols singing Christmas carols.
As they started to wear grin on their cheeks,
Listened to us closely if we uttered the correct lyrics of songs.
But everything went well as what we planned.
People liked how we sang and danced.
Christmas is a time for joy, a time for everyone!
But the impact we gave I’d say…
Incredibly unforgettable for them
They laughed and enjoyed our grooves
They prettily liked how we moved.
The whole night was too short to visit people’s homes
But our Christmas carol memory lasted long
I couldn’t quite forget the memories that Christmas gave
I just smile on my seat watching little stars watching over me
I keep on thinking where my old friends now
Are they still pondering the songs of Christmas we used to sing?
Because as of this moment, I’m singing alone
Reminiscing childhood memories of yesterday’s Christmas
One day in early April, I’ll be given a surprise.
Old Man Winter will have barely trudged away.
I’ll drive up to my house and before my eyes,
Spring will have returned in bright array -
with my front yard trees a part of her costume ballet.
The buds on my pear tree will become florets,
prettily unfurled a creamy white.
My plum trees in bloom will be two coquettes
posed charmingly to the pear tree’s right
and bejeweled in amethysts - to my delight!
The costume ballet is a gorgeous thing to view.
There is no dance, but rather you will see
a movement from block to block of every hue
displayed in early April most gracefully
by my own and every other costumed tree.
(My city is famous for its beautiful trees; hence
the name Pleasant Grove.)
Written Feb. 2, 2012 for Francine Roberts'
english quintain a spring day Poetry Contest
Skies bring happy tidings; Hear peals of thunder "clap"!
Lightning brings great illumination with no gap;
Why should barren clouds move with no torrential pour?
It's, thus, when my soul thinks, wings, begins the rare "roar"...!
Each creature proclaims beauteous divine nature,
Each little leaf "jingles" his love-legislature;
Slowly falls in landscapes "drizzly" drops; soothing-filled
"Pitter-patter" of rain, then, benign smoothing-thrilled...!
Am I hearing the breeze "gargling" to hear her throat?
Have pandemonium of parrot lost their coats?
"Crash" and "creak" and "croak" are heard from nook and corner,
Bull-frog, rat-snake or fish – which is fit for honor?
Angry winds "slam" the doors; As you open, drop "splash"!
"Boom" "beam" and "bop" from nowhere echoes like air-crash;
"Mumble" of butterflies-primroses speak volume,
"Babble" and "rattle" and "gabble" and "chatter" "boom"...!
"Click clickery clack" of the sound of train unseen,
"Cling clung crackle" of landscapes I have never been;
Am I dreaming in ninth cloud as I am happy?
Surroundings seem so splendid; scenes solemn, sappy...!
These games of nature we need to be acquainted,
Beauteous is the sky! So prettily painted!
Talk on God needs Philosophy, theology,
True love-living lies in truest anthropology...!
07 July 2022
Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
One brilliant tranquil day, around a turquoise lake,
Autumn had come in and brightly painted
so prettily the branches of the trees.
Overhead the gulls serenely soared.
Below them, water shimmered -softly rippled. . .
I thought how this was how the world should ever be -
beautiful and radiant, sorrow-free.
All of a sudden came a shift.
A strong wind swept the scene; all was transformed.
Fall’s vibrant colors shimmied,
till released, they spread asunder.
Small ripples changed to waves,
which angrily were lashing at the shore.
The seagull’s laughing cries had disappeared.
And streaming rays of sunlight had
become absorbed by darkness . . .
a dreariness and dreadfulness and cold.
In the reflection of the shadows,
I found my flimsy jacket, flung it on,
and clasped it close to me - then even closer.
Wishing that all mankind could find illumination,
I forlornly contemplated that this
was how the whole world would come to be,
and sooner than we know. . .would so remain.