Long Shimmering Poems
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Walk through nature taking in the air.
The scent of flowers and not a care.
The sun sends energy for the day.
That we might work and collect pay.
Now at noon we must have a meal.
A few minutes to just sit and kill.
Then back to the earning of more gold.
That we might have some when we are old.
The sun sinks low as we head for home.
To be greeted by the garden gnome.
Then when comes the moons shimmering shine.
Lovers come out to drink of its wine.
They're getting to know each others soul.
As they shuffle to their rock and roll.
The game is rigged that no one can win.
And they will end up knee-deep in sin.
The mystery called life in this place.
Tells the story of the human race.
A being of the divine design.
Caught in the middle of space and time.
date:12/24/21
The splendor of blossoming flower,
in the petals of the unfurling buds it lies,
as the spring’s sweet scent shower
saturates the latticed wings of butterflies.
Their charm surrounds the frame of charisma,
I see suspended on the wall,
and while watching I float in the air of fantasy,
I reinvent the captivating magnetism of Mona Lisa.
The sensuous forces of attraction that enthrall,
carry women’s time transcending pure beauty.
Nothing lies between the charming Eve and you,
when you’re in view my vision is suffused
with the enchanting radiance of rainbow hue,
shimmering on the enigmatic smile enthused
by the lure of the silver-lined drifting cloud,
making the face enticingly glamorous,
filling my mind with endearing fascination.
As my entranced feelings come out of shroud,
I envision the picture so gorgeous
exude the lady’s everlasting attraction.
The charm of the spectacular still life image,
created by the painter supreme,
activates the sense of awe with the luring visage,
with the eyes of crystal stars dreaming cosmic dream.
As the tinsels of charm swathe my mesmerized heart,
the pulsation of beguiling cadence I feel.
I perceive the aura of exquisite brilliance
in the grand masterpiece of superb living art.
The metaphors of her relentless appeal
define women’s enduring eternal magnificence.
It’s Thursday morning, the twelfth day lock-down here. While sitting cozily in my room’s balcony with a bible and ukulele, some tiny birds perch tamely at the balustrade inviting me to play the most romantic melody as each critter hops and struts closer into pairs. Filling the air with their boastful flirty-chirpy chats and rubbing their wings sweetly against each other, the peeking sun displays its radiant smiles from the white fluffy clouds. Overlooking my spot are green trees laden with summer flowers, mostly supannikas and golden showers. Under the dense leaves are branches where other birds sing joyfully in unison with the tunes of their daily unique songs.
God sent songs of love
under our natures’ grand wings
listen and be glad
Amidst the orchestrated warbles of birds, the flowing water at my residence's swimming pool is heard while its dispenser strikes its keys to echo the refreshing music of serenity. The small lake across my spot is vividly viewed while it acclaims jubilantly the wonders of the day with its shimmering tranquility, mirroring the fire trees and bushes in its surroundings then accentuates the peeking sunrise that caresses my face with its warm glowing shafts. I read silently some verses midst nature's sounds then close my eyes to feel the majestic wonder of another day, another extension of life and lots of nature’s smiles. With thanksgiving, I start to finger-pick each string and sing with all my soul and heart a praising hymn.
nature's boundless gifts
our God's overwhelming grace
long reflection piece
May 6, 2021 3.06pm
Moments of Reflection -Haibun contest
Sponsored by Malabika Ray Choudhury
Place: 1
Judged: May 11,2021
I saw the little green light shimmering from my window
"come join us in the forest" they whispered my way
"they are all asleep and it is Christmas day
come join us, on mother earth's parkay"
said the harpist as she plucked a unicorn glowed
Two emerald wings clapping happily, a hummingbird fairy
a tiny snail and the deer, all part of the master plan
the beaver sat on the plaid, a gift from good old Nan
joined to the hip with a bunny named Stan
and singing mushrooms, so light and so airy
Yes off the the forest I glided alone and quite content
as the fish with his mouth agape treaded the waters of jubilee
the glen came alive with festive sounds, a garland of poetry
I was transported into a different world to party,
it was like celebrating with friends, beneath a magic tent.
Contest name Party Folk Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
December 12, 2020
Memory’s Shadow
by Odin Roark
There was a time
She’d float beside him
Their footsteps in sync
Their heartbeats in unison
Even at midnight
Central Park imbued their love
With colors and honeysuckle fragrance
Lake’s shimmering moon-mirror
Sending ripples through enjoined hands
But oh the face
She knew not a grimace
Nor any sadness
Her smile
Hope’s subtlety
Passion’s caretaker
Time passed
Clouded skies
Like cataracts of mind
Faded that lovely face
Their fantasy stroll
Became but silhouette
And still…
A bench remained
To sit
Dream
Listen to each other’s breath
While rustling leaves
Drifted away
Seasons passed
Strolls became nurse-chaperoned
Movement by wheelchair
Breath by oxy-caddy
His bench still stands
Warm to the touch
His nurse always stops for him to listen
As memory’s shadow whispers
“May I hold your hand?”
When night’s ebony is vanquished,
the pre-dawn turns slowly into peach.
Peach becomes persimmon and pink
as scarlet starts to streak the sky..
As I breathe the snowy whiteness of the clouds,
the sun shyly peeks out from behind them.
Suddenly the deliciousness of saffron
shines forth with the hope of a new day.
I’m gazing up at a Monet.
Day progresses, and at times
I view new birds that wing their way
through a heaven gone azure.
Gradually the azure changes to periwinkle blue
tinged with violet hues.
Evening is upon us.
Apricot slashes through the sky
and then it turns a passionate pink.
The clouds coalesce into larger white fluffs
which trim the twilight
like whipped cream on a raspberry pie.
Later the clouds become wisps of silver threads
as the yellow sun submerges itself into the sea.
The pale pearl moon and diamond stars appear -
the brightest of them shimmering ice blue
from far far away.
Sky has become a sapphire sheet
blanketing the part of the world that has gone to sleep.
Whether night be black or cobalt blue,
eventually dawn arrives
to vanquish night again.
Dec. 19, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice No 55 Poetry Contest
You may shoot a round of golf with your goofy neighbor Rolf,
or smack handballs 'round until your fingers bleed.
You may pump your mountain bike up the peak named after Pike,
and I'm sure we'll all applaud the mighty deed.
You may hunt the antlered moose, you may perforate a goose,
or with bow in hand confront the ring necked pheasant.
But a sportsman's not a hero t'il he fishes in sub-zero
temperatures that lesser men would find unpleasant.
There is nothing quite as nice as to lumber 'cross the ice
when the northern lights are shimmering o'er the pole.
With your tip-ups and your thermos and frost bitten epidermis
and a double headed axe to chop the hole.
On your upturned spacklin' pail there you'll squat through sleet and hail,
and snow so deep that folks can't see your hat.
And some may call you "nuts", and some "a silly putz",
but you're a proud ice fishin' man for all of that.
Though you've never caught a trout and never will, I doubt,
that the prospect of a catch is what will tug ya,
to the frozen lake each season; no you do it for the reason,
it's the only place your spouse won't go to bug ya.
Miles apart in the gleam, I believe her,
Upright on the porch, staring at the mighty above,
Her glassy eyes shimmering with a deceptive smile,
Her loose hair flowing like ocean waves.
Must she be seeing the moon similar as mine?
Our children lie in slumber deep,
Too young to grasp the storms we face.
Here I stand, lost in whispers of the dark,
Unformed, without any foresight.
Oh, my love! How will I ever repay those emotions?
The deepest depths no longer sting,
Perhaps the Almighty is a reconsideration away.
What have I done so horrendous,
For you to endure this?
My soul feels lost in its entirety.
Where a blink's separation takes us closer to certainty,
My beloved, forgive me for this single night of parting.
Winter’s Fantasies
Winter walks the mountain hills at nightfall
Breathlessly awaiting evening’s first flakes of snow,
An alpine carnival that rowdy clouds threatened to toss upon their faces;
When, at last, the brumaled storm releases a snowy masquerade
Sweet serenity fills dusky eyes with wistful fantasies of twirling snowflakes,
Visions of barren aspen arms embracing shivering jewels of glittering glitz,
A carnival of crystalline jubilee in wind whipped flakes.
Winter smiles as the evening sky slowly turns her dark side inside out
From black to white to turquoise and to blue
The moon slow pulls herself above these mountain hills in festival
To ride a winter sky watching over midnight’s silver shimmering earth
Alive with twinkling moonbeam stars, bright refractions of sisters in the sky,
When the mountains glimmer cold as midnight – blue as stars –
Wearing new ermine alpine furs -cloaks of argent sparkle.
1-12-22
Contest: Winter Wonders within Nature
Sponsor: M.L. Kiser
Night lifted the ebony shroud
from the hazy sky draped in cloud,
the ascent of dawn had begun
with the rise of shimmering sun,
golden shower drizzled with flair,
spreading crimson hue in the air,
radiance lighted the meadow
where the pearls of dew I saw glow.
Reflected flicker flushed my face,
my mind was filled with divine grace,
stream of my love started to spurt
as unbound flood within your heart,
cascade of enticing color
enwrapped you with fervent glamour,
like a flower abloom in spring
you gleamed with the tinge of yearning.
Beyond the calm edge of twilight,
moonbeam splash of mesmeric night
sprinkled silver tinsels on me,
my lured muse soared in reverie
on wings of rhythmic breeze to fly
beguiled in your star-studded sky,
with longing sheen flashing anew,
I composed a lyric for you.
_________________
January 18, 2022
Syllable count : 8 per line
Checked on PS Counter
Contest : C Form - Couplet
Sponsor : Constance La France