Long Wreath Poems
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Written: September 30, 2023
Sponsored by: Silent One Pick a Colour Contest
"There is my body, in it an ocean formed of his glory, all the creation, all the universes, all the galaxies, are lost in it. Rumi"
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In the scenic scope of a sparklingly stained sky.
Brushstrokes by a dulcet master, sky-high
An exhibit of azure splendor, a masterpiece.
Exquisite works of nature, why must you cease?
A cyanic cerulean, cavorting and courageous
Paints a tale that is both untold and tenacious.
Azure colors dance with genuine happiness.
All day long, hearts are captured by sappiness.
Wispy wetness, whitening whisper wreath.
With complete pride, wrap the sheath
Clouds of cotton candy wander nearby.
Adding elegance and grace to a sunny sky
A golden orb, the sun, sends a brilliant light.
Exudes a svelte and diaphanous gaze bright.
A radiance of soft light through the universe.
Fluttering formulaic fascination is fluminous.
Flowers fields in fabulous fonts of Forebay
Akin to a painter's palette, they thrive and sway.
Delicate petals, akin to brushstrokes fine,
Creating a tapestry is so divine.
The ocean waves have a turquoise hue.
Crash upon the shore, in shades of dew.
Symphony of mellifluous vibe, a rhythmic song,
As the creator elixir flows swiftly along,
Seagulls whiz by with wings wassail wide.
Their graceful flight was a sight to abide.
They elapse through the canvas with elegant ease.
Adding zest and zeal to an ephemeral breeze
As the day gyres to dusk, the sky transforms.
Brushstrokes of indigo chart various forms.
Mahogany and navy, fete the felicity of the scene.
Choreographing a fugacious, halcyon, and serene
Furtive stars twinkle, akin to gems so bright,
As the divine fulfills the tableau for the night,
Brushstrokes of cobalt in the glamor sky,
A marvelous feat that yields hearts to sigh.
The splendor of nature's marvels can't be denied.
A canvas filled with hues, so bright and defied
The creator is inconspicuous, yet his aura is felt.
It's clearly blatant in the cyan smudges knelt.
Wreath wrapped around the door of my heart
Hearth's door both symbol and integral part
Part of the pageantry and beacon of my hospitality
Material canvas eroding with time; modest beacon bequeathing my liberality
Time capsule which transports festive memories to my merry mind
Festive timber melded and then artfully twined
Mirth and praise twined in harmonious refrain
Earthy refrain with delicate stitch and modest, pulpy strain
Modest harbinger of good will to all who it's crest ascend
Good will garnish that I with tidings of joy append
Garnish gratuitously crafted, residual hope to send
Hope that will past heartaches and trials rescind
Signpost serenading Christmas past, while celebrating the decorum of Christmas present
Shrouding wreath, with future Christmas dreams resonant
In the secretive corners of the soul,
Where you are guided by the whispers of loss,
There hides the seed of poetry —
A precious stone born from the unseen pressure of pain.
An ancient ritual in a canvas of darkness,
Where despair weaves with a thread of the moon,
Resilience embroidering melted illusions
Upon the perfect fabric of the night.
Poems are born from the depth of obscurity
Like lotus flowers rising hastily,
From the murky waters of dissatisfaction,
A cradle for sorrow and a fountain of light.
It is not given to everyone to gather them,
To weave from strands of misery a wreath
That will shine upon the brow of time —
A royal diadem forged in the forge of a tumultuous heart.
Writing a verse is a journey through the depths of the mist,
A treasure hunt in caves forgotten by echo,
When hope longs to be saved from drowning
And in the arms of disillusion, it is hope that is reborn.
Reading is a sacred act, akin to a posthumous dream,
Where you feel the word wizards unravel their mystery,
And even the reader becomes a pilgrim in their own sanctuary,
Adorning themselves with the radiance of a balm intended only for the initiated.
Only the chosen one feels how fate spins amongst verses,
How from the endless desert springs an oasis,
An alchemical chorus, in which each metaphor is a star
That leads you, beautiful and bittersweet, through the maelstrom of this mystical journey.
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As if the sunlight breaks the day
And dawn arrives with a whispered breath
Ascending like a clarinet
As gentle as a cradle song
Small butterflys, will twirl aloft
And circle in the morning breeze
A mantra of incantation
Stirring thoughts to meditation
To revel, shy against the dawn
With quivering wings to climb the stairs
In rippled waves, that stirs the air
The fleeting leaves, will dance and sway
And songs exhale, so crystal clear
To gently sway the flowing glass
Of bubbling streams, sweet, crisp, and pure
So gently soft, and sweetly felt
A first note broods, without fanfare
A petal drifts, then spins away
it can be heard, like breeze once stirred
A timid bird, a quivering chord
A sonnet's love, with lanquid words
Each breath a spark, that kindles change
With trilling voice that wraps around
A wreath of mist lifts off the ground
Skimming rainbows, with a song
A never ending, ... wistful sound…
Then rumbles like a stormy cloud
The lightning strikes, and cymbals clash
The music fills the soul at last
Until it climbs and drifts away
The storm has passed , the music played
Embellished enchantress, cynosure bride
bubbled elixir of laughter in a frenetic tide.
Moonlight blushing, a bouquet on her face,
sequined new dress, bejeweled satin grace.
Silken rose jasmine, weaved in wedding wreath
beamed pink love, magnolia prism beneath.
Souls sipped wine, from golden pots of honey,
an exchange of garland, 'You and Me' became 'We'.*
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* In Indian tradition, an exchange of garland is
one of the most important wedding ritual.
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Sponsor John Hamilton
Contest Name NA re-run
This poem was NA ed in the following two contests
1.MAY 2019 PREMIER 3,ANY FORM,ANY THEME,UPTO A MAX OF 8(E I G H T )Lines sponsored by Brian Strand, dated 10th May 2019
2. GARLAND contest sponsored by Julia Ward, dated 25th May 2019
Date written : 8th May 2019
A world contained within a fragile sphere,
A silent scene that conquers time and fear.
I lift the globe, a universe so small,
And in its glass, the cherished moments call.
I shake the base, the tiny flakes arise,
A gentle storm that dances, whirls, and flies,
Obscuring briefly all that lies beneath,
A winter’s breath, a delicate, white wreath.
Then, settling slow, the quiet comes again,
The painted house, the path I knew back then,
The miniature figures, fixed in happy play,
A perfect, changeless, everlasting day.
It is an ode to what I can’t forget,
A time capsule where souls in miniature met.
The world outside may rush, and tilt, and change,
But in this glass, no life feels lost or strange.
A moment held against time’s steady flow,
My happy place, where loved ones seem to grow.
I watch the flurries fall, then linger near,
And keep the best of every vanished year
GUESTS OF EMBERA DRUA
We are guests in this village on the Chagris River shore.
Tribe members of Embera Drua twist palms of Panama -
embrace us each, with this wreath of scented flora,
language barriers break down with food and dance.
In this jungle we’ve no need to be formal in dress,
the natives share achiote seeds to redden my lips and cheeks.
And fresh coconut chased down with sips of sugar cane,
plenteous Panamanian fruit, hot lunch served in banana leaves.
Before we position our eyes upon the treasured trades
we are invited to join them for some entertainment.
Our acquaintances in tribal wear, write lyrics upon
their dirt floor ballroom, with calloused feet.
Dressed in paloma skirt and cotton taparabo, men and women
invite tourists to dance with them, as drums pulse and flutes charm.
We will remember the stilted homes of our friends,
dogs lazing underneath the floor, abundance of fruit trees,
a school in development so students can remain with parents
instead of placing sandals upon feet and leaving their family home.
Our dugout canoe glides back to the shore of lily pads,
we swim with invigorated thoughts and gladness.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Christmas by Invitation
My dearest Emmanuel – God with us -
Answering your Christmas celebration invitation
Reserving stable Space Via this Prayer
Watching with a child’s delight
Your birth announcement rising up above the snow
Of star dusted mountaintops
As you hang your welcome wreath of fiery silver stars
Upon Heaven’s door
Like candles in eternity’s windows
Guiding this poor pilgrim to your jubilee through bowed mountains -
On a broad highway in a valley raised from exile -
Bringing only a gift of simple love in tallow tapers
Like a holly branch aflame not singed,
No longer with the pacing heart of longing
Across the exiled mystery
In anxious steps of prophecy
Warmed in the radiant light of comfort and peaceful mercy
Then nurtured at the feasting table
Of your sacred midnight silence
Where forgiveness gifts each guest
Through Heaven’s gracious door thrown open wide
To fill our stockings with new confections
Of praise and prayer, parables and psalms
Humming to yourself in chimes
Inside the living holy grail
Of love’s perfection -
Prince of Peace in ploughshares and in pruning hooks,
Wonderful Everlasting, Counselor -
Wreathing garlands of holy darkness
Fed upon the nectar of your sweet spice in nascent joy
My thanksgiving gushing in the dews of nativity
For eyes that see, strong limbs that run, ears that hear
And homeless hearts finding shelter -
Wonder in twinkling tinsels of gratitude
Awakened – rising up - in the first born cry of a baby boy
And closing this RSVP in joy filled anticipation of riding
On a wave of majestic magnetism of Christmas blessings
Flowing in days to come
When we climb your mountain in your great light.
11-28-20
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Contest: Christmas Poetry
Finally, Christmas is here
Snowflakes are falling like diamonds they glisten
Carolers singing for all who do listen
Tinsel and garland are seen every where
Church bells are ringing this evening to share
For it’s Christmas, it’s Christmas
a time when we all spread good cheer
It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas
our favourite time of the year
With the stockings all hung
and the tree in the stand
Awaiting Kris Kringle
to come to our land
For it’s Christmas, it’s Christmas
Finally, Christmas is here
The gifts are all wrapped, there’s a wreath on the door
Last minute purchasers down at the store
Children in windows they stare to the sky
Watching for reindeer to go flying by
For it’s Christmas, it’s Christmas
a time when we all spread good cheer
It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas
our favourite time of the year
With the stockings all hung
and the tree in the stand
Awaiting Kris Kringle
to come to our land
For it’s Christmas, it’s Christmas
Finally Christmas is here
Merry Christmas Everyone
Check your pulse , and breathe
another day on earth
And your names not on that wreath.
its all about death and birth.
Tears and laughter, just living the dream.
its your life's and you're favorite song on repeat in your head.
You're names not in the papers yet.
The sun is setting the sky is red.
Still time to sing one more duet
but not to worry you're not yet dead.
Tears and laughter, dancing to a tune
its You're life and your favorite song on repeat in your head.
Its all about singing the song
and letting your feet tap along.
the song of life does not last long
sing it loud and make it sound like birdsong
Tears and laughter, just join in and sing along.
And then the song began to fade
the last drum beat played
the final serenade
the piper must be paid
the song of life