Written 5th Aug 2026 for weekly poetry competition. August 3rd 2026 to August 9th 2026
I am a tall American Sweetgum Tree
Star- shaped leaves colours of purple yellow and red
Graceful ~ loved by all
Robins land on my branches
Sweetly serenade me
Songs of joy sharing nature’s love
Children skip round me giggling
I am head tree guarding the Magical Forest
Unicorns, fairy’s ~ even goblins love me
People come hug me and tell me they love me
Majestic mountains bow to me
Magical kingdom is place to be
Castle glistens in the sunshine
At night owls hoot to me
Lights surround me showing my beauty
I love all seasons especially winter
Snow dazzles and sparkles on me
People from all over world photograph me
You once moved like music
had your name written in it.
Every step was prayer,
every spin was a story
the air remembered.
The stage was yours,
and we borrowed light
from the way you carried it.
Life changed the rhythm, not the dancer.
The world got loud,
and somewhere the beat got lost.
Now the streets hold your footprints
where the floorboards used to.
Madness did not erase the grace
— it just hid it under harder days.
We still see the art
in how you tilt your head,
how your hands still conduct silence.
You taught us that beauty
doesn’t need a spotlight to be real.
So today we honor you: the dancer,
the dream, the human.
May you be seen, may you be safe,
may you be remembered with love.
Hear the voice of the new dawn, rising from the silent dust.
She will strip the lies away, break the heavy chains of rust.
Will you buy her art of flame? Will you back her brilliant mind?
She will shape the coming age, leave the old world far behind.
Every word is bold and true, stretching out to touch the sky.
She can make the hardest hearts stop and listen, laugh, or cry.
Do not let this talent fade! She is writing history.
Read the verses of her soul, solve her lovely mystery.
She will challenge every norm, push the boundaries of our day.
She is worth your great support, do not look the other way!
H i g h e r
Deep fire
Long night
Keep sight
Search soul
Swell goal
I find...
Goldmine
I first...
Quench thirst
Sweetheart
My heart
Her "Yes"
Killed stress
Bright eyes
Great prize
My will
Moved hill
High beam
Vast dream
"May is the month of expectation, the month of wishes, the month of hope." - Emily Brontë
April showers bring May flowers,
The summer blooms with it's powers ,
A wish of a seed like a farytale comes true,
As the kids play the smile just grew ,
The May appears more beautiful than we expect,
Every single detail is just perfect.
Do what you want
Do what you can
Do what is free
Be all you can be
Do what makes you smile
Make it magnificent
Make it worthwhile!
Heidi Sands
5/12/26
(C)opyright
CHARLES MADILANA MOOKWA
“AKA” THE DANCING MAD MAN
Who is this mad dancing man?
If you knew his story, you’d be shocked to the core.
Charles graduated cum laude in Arts — the highest honour.
The wonderful Charles. The magnificent Charles.
He studied abroad, interned abroad, played the lead in a theatre series.
The centre stage was what he was born for.
Then came December.
He went home for the holidays and bought his mother a car.
That car took her life.
After that, Charles was never the same.
He never went back abroad.
The director tried to reach him. No luck.
He fell into a web of mental problems, roaming the streets he once performed on.
They call him the Dancing Mad Man now.
But 4 weeks felt like 4 years of misfortune.
One December trip home left him scarred for life.
The wonderful Charles.
The magnificent Charles.
A man without wings, who fell to the ground he came from.
Straining, yearning for a glimpse
of the magnificent personage
when shoved forward by the crowd’s energy
he found himself face-to-face
with the object of the crowd’s adoration
What else could the ten-year-old lad do
but kiss Mr. Kennedy on the cheek
~ for which he earned a standing ovation
__________________________________________
On the campaign trail, c. October, 1960.
what we have
is a connection
on a higher level.
what we share
is a higher dimension
of love.
I thank God
for you,
because not only
did HE create
a masterpiece,
but He thought enough
of me
to lend me
you,
for as much time
as I have left
in this world.
I am so blessed
to be your man,
so proud
to share this journey
with you.
You restored
my faith in love,
and you
are living proof,
we have
a magnificent God.
A magnificent grey cat sits still
atop the post at a corner of the wall
I key a tin of fish, but he forgets to
trip me on the path, so fixed is he
upon the birds below him in the grass
He chitters softly,
luring them with fraudulent charisma,
bewitching them with superficial charm
At length I choose to leave him to his schemes,
untroubled by the plight of yonder birds,
for tender as they are, they possess a clever hindsight
and the agency of wings
Like elemental scribes,
they write upon the wind
and leave him limmerent,
there beneath the sky
for Sonia
Your beauty is magnificent
It radiates
from head to toe
There is an essence
to you that
is beyond compare,
a sight to
behold and enjoy
You are my inspiration
my Muse
You have given
me many gifts
that have value
beyond compare
you bring me
such joy,
make me very happy
that you are
in my life
You are a
rare and precious jewel
that I am lucky
to have found
Twenty years ago this month I was in Enid A. Haupt Garden, a manicured
garden surrounded by two rows of saucer magnolia trees. The magnolious
large, cup shaped flowers showcasing breathtaking display of white or
pinkish-purple petals with outer petals of darker shade of pink or purple.
The petals, thick, soft and velvety scattered on the ground and benches.
I was swept away by the pleasant fragrance and captivated by the scent, a
combination of sweet, floral and slightly citrusy. A fragrance so noticeable
for the scent wafted through the garden, creating a pleasing aroma, like a
sweet lemony candy. Unforgettable! When will I see and smell them again?
Heaven's pink lip blush
painted by a female hand
Colour-enhanced clouds
feeling of euphoria -
triggers an exquisite cheer
The mysterious path winding through
a forest of magnificent trees,
and I walk in the quiet of ancient time
seeking the secret rhymes
of the oak and the cedar;
and the poetry of nature.
~ The Magnificent Mouse ~
Fiction
A minuscule, humble mouse
wrote much poetry.
Her eyes, so very tired, she
almost could not see.
Each day, mouse scribbled out
her heart’s melodious song.
For five years she did this,for
hours, far, far too long!.
Her poetry, she hoped, people
would hopefully like.
That was her mistake, this all
too trusting, poet-tyke.
She fell ill, quite weak and lost
her will to write.
She felt great peace now and
bright, inner mouse might.
Mouseland, her country,was made
great fun of too.
She was proud of that poetry land.
under her sparkling,lyrical, shoes.
So mouse gave up writing where
her ideas were not wanted.
In her new home, she was well read,
accepted, and her joy was undaunted!
5/15/2024
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.