Long Vermillion Poems
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THIS LULLABY IN THE SUNSET
I was walking my baby, down the street
In the carrage, she lay fast asleep
And there is so much noise, the hussle and bussle of the city
My Lord look at the child she is so innocent so pretty
It's late evening as the sun is going down
Steadly still walkink on the side walk toward home
My baby awakens, as the sun shines in her eyes
I feel eladed to have her in my life
And as she starts to cry
Yet still walking
I sing her a lullaby
As the sunsets I pick up my baby
And I continue to sing her my
Song just under my breathe
This lullaby in the sunset
And as I dry the baby's eyes
Yet still walking arriving home
Still I'm singing her a lullaby
As the sunsets I pick up my baby
And I continue to sing her my
Song just under my breathe
This lullaby in the sunset
For Contest: LULLABY IN THE SUNSET
Sponsored by: Vermillion Scythe
©2018
~
Among watching forbidden archangels saunter sullen paths
I reflect mandragoras through evanescent gleams of orrery elegies,
whirling into significant distraught dizain stanzas of my obsidian paint
in halcyon hopes my expressive ekphrasis will bloom alongside aureate tulips.
Under opal moons shading dozens of writhing languid lavenders of mauve,
a hushing zephyr cuddles lost villanelle verses of my nocturne lilt heart
shaping obsidian thorns of withering torment into eloquent paradelles
gifting me picturesque promises of prospering ovary triumph over obsidian odes.
O, how I dream vermillion serenade reveries of idyllic illusions
whilst pouring out serpentine verses in poise patterns of bewitching ballads,
perhaps yearning celestine fantasies to be painted in aureate ruby recognition
are as asking one to grasp glazing pearl stars under an elixir eclipse.
Upon scrolling night's interrogating introspective sighs of myrrh melodies
I refocus labyrinthine lilacs of drizzling determination through ethereal epics,
for it is through periwinkle poetry I've learned to set palindromes forward
and through vignette vellichor musings I'll leap amethyst acrostics.
~
As the scarlet sunset sets fire
in the fading satin sky, making a surreal collage
of vermillion ember motif, glowing bright.
Swathed by its crimson radiance of congeniality
I wake up feeling the last touch of the departing summer.
The spectrum of dawn turns to tinsels in the cerulean sky,
shrouds the floating detritus of the desiccated clouds.
The nip in the crisp air of the crystalline morning
makes the seamless sky of my psyche sense
the waft of the winsome summer sauntering to its end,
as the serenading zephyr sings the farewell song for me.
The trail of rains fades at the fringe of summer,
supple northern breeze whispers to me
the tune of a new beginning.
The strands of silver clouds slowly sail away
grazing the ash of the end-summer’s smoky sky.
Sunburst horizon spreads the gossamer drape,
as the tepid spectrum emits from the slant sunrays.
Aureate autumn arrives with diaphanous aura,
the wispy clumps of the silken clouds
sail as the fashioned flotilla of fantasy
across the cobalt charisma of the sapphire sky
where the beguiled birds bathe
in the gorgeous glint of the blue bay.
From the lucent brink of the sunburst horizon,
kaleidoscopic colors spill from the dawn’s pallet.
Slender blades of beige grass sway in bracing breeze
on the lap of the maroon meadow,
morphing into cinnamon pasture.
The crown crafted with the drops of diamond dew,
flashes with the finesse of dawn’s opalescent glow
while the fiery colors burn the foliage face of sepia trees.
The echo of the fall’s faint footfall
I hear in the rustle of the golden leaves.
Carmine, crimson, vermillion, and cerise,
dapple canopies of emerald green.
And the ground morphs into a golden fleece;
as yellow, orange, gold, and tangerine,
mark a pathway south for migrating geese.
Autumn's beauty can take one's breath away:
like Spring; it's a colorful time of year.
And when pigments and breezes interplay,
abstract mosaics begin to appear:
while fallen leaves get blown in disarray.
Alabaster hoarfrost dusts the landscape;
as Jack Frost etches swirls on windowpanes.
And Autumn's as barren as a moonscape
when skeletal trees are all that remains;
of Fall's colorful fantasy dreamscape.
I looked out on the gloom of one dark day
as rain poured down. Glissandos my ear caught!
What joy streamed forth from sweet chords I heard play.
The source of them excitedly I sought.
My searching eyes at last beheld a sight
most marvelous! Amidst loud thundering,
two angels strummed on harps! And from their light,
flowed hope profound when they began to sing!
They sang a song that filled my heart with peace
because their lyrics told the story of
a time when animosity would cease.
Beneath a rainbow then, I felt God's love.
June 23, 2018 for Vermillion Scythe's Angels in the Rain Poetry Contest
AUTUMN'S COLORED FOOTFALL
The wet brush of the climbing clouds washes the end-summer sky,
the wings of birds bathe in the blue when from amber nest they fly.
Autumn arrives creeping with purple prism in the sunburst horizon
splitting the surreal scarlet sunbeam in its hues coloring the dawn.
Yellow tinged blades of fawn grass swaying on maroon meadow
wears the crown of topaz dew sparkling in the chalcedony glow.
Lining the cinnabar garden path the sepia trees still stand tall,
in the rustle of the blushing leaves they hear autumn’s footfall.
As the setting pink sun blazes the sky in vermillion ember bright
in its crimson radiance I wait for the frigid fall of the winter night.
October 1, 2018
Travelling to the past…tiptoeing
back to soft, tender days of miracle,
which disappeared like crimson
rays of dusk gradually spread an
aura of apparent everlasting peace
with birds homecoming...
cocooned by mother’s love, and
father’s affection…protected
by doting siblings, a poignantly loving
and giving, blissful childhood!
Life is not a perpetual dream,
easy, and flowing, soothing, and calming…
The breeze which lulls, may
turn into wild, torturous, blustery wind,
cutting like a sharp knife on your skin,
on your face; you are swimming
against the cruel current of kismet,
an abrupt and precipitous choice
turns life into an unimaginable nightmare,
and no respite in view!
girl who used to find all her dreams
crystallized in shiny silver snowflakes,
was shaken by turbulent waves
of hurt, sorrow, and sufferings!
her values shattered,
her hopes crushed,
she thought she met the inevitable grim end!
End shocked her - standing upright
against the merciless storm, dark
clouds evaporated, radiant sun
arrived on a chariot of seven stallions,
horizon turned vermillion red, temple-bells
started chiming cadence of blessings,
she stood alone, but triumphant,
she was jubilant!
Upon autumn's stage where vermillion vistas and cobalt-blue sky meet
Picturesque hues enchant, oscillating in breeze, as scarlet landscapes greet.
Falling leaves trickle down on golden yellow fabric in shades of amber fire
As barren trees fight gusty winds to hold on to remnants of brown attire.
Chilled air empowers imperial red tinges to adorn vestiges of fading green
Transforming lakes and ponds into heavens of romantic crimson scene.
Harvests of freshly cut grains cheerfully celebrate season's festive meals,
Sipping cinnamon tea and sampling pumpkin pies, welcome autumn feels.
Revelers rejoice glimpses of winter under moonlit-glow of freezing nights
As naked forests sway in tandem, yearning for the rebirth of vibrant sights.
October 4, 2018
Placed 3rd: Seasonal verse poetry contest by Brian Strand
Placed 4th in Vermillion autumn couplets contest by Vermillion Scythe
The dawning sun ignites the sky ablaze
so many times, in early morning hours-
with vibrant colors that, with joy amaze
my waking eyes in awe of nature's powers.
With splashes of vermillion-orange streaks
against the layered, pink-blue clouded sky,
bright glowing sky spreads out and softly peeks
through lacy, dark tree limbs that mystify.
This peaceful view brings magic to my day-
so richly blazed by nature's grand display.
March 7, 2022
~1st Place
Contest: Form I - Imagism - New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Judged: 03/18/2022
Time is endless - that’s what they say!
When I meet you,
in the gossamer amber twilight...
sun leaving, painting the sky
with a glistening vermillion aura,
feels like the clock is ticking,
the moment is fleeting,
too fast!
golden past feels celestially poignant and eternal,
never escapes my crimson mind...
present is intoxicating and infinite,
Never loses its blazing, limitless charm!
A Strand - 1069 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE