Poetry Wheel Challenge:
Theme: Mortality
Emotion: Grief
Color: Blue
Season: Annual
Form: Tanka
Object: Lantern
Verb: Bound
Created using the PoetrySoup Poetry Wheel.
lantern in the wood
there’s grief the trees cannot bear
leaves bound for the ground
when again, Autumn draws near
and the sky turns misty blue
Your smile shines~
as the early effulgence enshrouds
upon wisteria water
echoing ephemeral embraces
on tenebrous turquoise trees
that bear your name.
Your laughters linger~
upon the emerald leaves
that radiate a lilac shade
as the sun goes up
like your eyes that sparkle a hue
transforming into Caribbean blue
on the first glance
of a sweet romance.
Your song soars~
entwined in ethereal ensemble
above each passing cloud
where etched elegies echo
a lost and found love.
That magical morning scene
of enchanted garden near Giverny
unveils a dream I keep
in wild willows lilac leaves
where my story dwells in silence .
The shy sky behind them~
wishes to kiss the gleaming water
where silent sanctuaries are sheathed
upon the indigo shadow,
accentuated by fine chiaroscuro
embracing purple petals
that whisper through silent water
where lofty love story dwells~
perpetuated by each sunrise.
I see something near
Crushing a crystalline eye
Hello, I am God
The summer after high school
friends and I met girls
from town at the lake.
My friends jumped in and out
of the water— I swam
in the lake’s cool embrace
but paused to talk
to one of the girls,
Vickie, I believe.
We were young and anxious
we were boys but men
waiting to go to college
with a touch of anticipation
but in moments
spent with them
we forgot.
Small talk came easy
on idle week day afternoons
while clouds drifted by
in open skies passing
over a placid countryside.
We often pondered out fate
but for now, this was where
we were meant to be.
Late in the afternoon
nothing was said
when we went to our cars
but we knew we would
be back.
A soft breeze whispered.
He stands beside his child
the way a tree stands beside its shadow~
not owning it,
not shaping it,
but offering a place to grow
in the shelter of his presence.
The boy leans in,
trust quiet as breath,
as if he already knows
that the world is easier to face
when a father’s steadiness
is close enough to touch.
There is no need for words.
Love moves in the small distances~
the space between two hands,
the tilt of a shoulder,
the soft gravity that pulls
one life toward another.
On Father's Day
what matters most
is not the weight of legacy
or the echo of a family name,
but the simple truth
that a child stands taller~
when a father stands near.
Along the quiet ocean shore,
Where restless thoughts are heard no more,
The silver waves in gentle rhyme
Wash worries from the sands of time.
The gulls drift softly on the breeze,
While sunlight dances on the seas;
Each foamy crest and whispered spray
Invites the cares of life away.
Barefoot upon the cooling sand,
I feel no need to understand
The hurried world that lies behind,
The sea brings calm unto the mind.
The distant horizon, vast and blue,
Speaks ancient truths forever new;
No voice is raised, no burden pressed,
Yet all within is soothed and blessed.
As evening paints the sky with gold,
And twilight's peaceful arms enfold,
A quiet joy begins to bloom,
A sacred stillness fills the room.
Near ocean's edge I gently see
The gift of simple harmony;
And in the rhythm of the tide,
Serenity walks by my side.
every evening I cross an ancient temple
I pause in reverence for a moment
in prayer connecting
feeling the deity’s power potent
a warm sensation engulfs base of spine
it is the root chakra every time
a direct energy transfer
magnetism divine sublime
blessings that in-pour are imbibed
mind does not know what is going on
yet toroidal heart is vibrant
in the timeless continuum reborn
here i stand
before her
beneath her
her naive smile
gravitates me
before her
beneath her
her smile twists
swirls and guts me
from the
inside out
pushing me
before her
beneath her
Together we played on those streets during our infant stages, during our regless youth days we nearly died on those streets chasing quick cash, you have seen and been with me in my lowest, and you have seen me in my prime, to me your more than a brother, this ain't friendship, this is family bound by shared struggles. #Artistic Ronald
Death is always near
near to every heart that hears
hears the silent warning clear
clear in the silent breath of night
night that braids the mortal wreath
wreath of sorrow laid upon the sheath
sheath of mourning black and drab
drab the daily minutes grab
grab the joys from being near.
Near almond trees in fragrant bloom
she sits. The sun and breeze
her tender fragile heart illume
and niggling doubts appease.
Her mind now crystal clear
she can forgive; give ear
to reason without fear.
She breathes at ease
near almond trees.
The carved wooden bench with a vintage look
Hangs on to host a new lovely couple
By default gets the instinct of serving
A silent witness of sweet memories
A soothing partner for a disturbed soul
Though calm, it preaches a noble message
Despite facing several pains and plights
Deports solemnly with steadfast stature
Place: 4th
Bashful, but least bothered by
His cheeky peeking.
Who against this hemlock lies
Sings for; none seeking.
A green warbler's - I look through!
Girl- my Emily!
Add this wish. Off whose coned shade
Nevermore wrenched free!
The xanthous muse flies
New book scent and candle wax
Waltz of butterflies
Soft turns wonder at flashbacks
Waits for exciting climax
Now That the End Is Near
The once bare walls, now adorned with signs of my spirit,
Will be bare once again
Four years held here, and now the end is near.
Every laundry pile, every stack of books,
Each crystal placed with care
Will fall into silence.
Now the end is near.
Delicate altars built to honor and hold
Will dissolve,
Making room for a new season’s bloom.
Now the end is near.
The dim-lit living room,
Where Matt Maeson’s verses danced
And Taylor Swift’s voice filled the air,
Where we twirled around to TV Girl
Will stiffen into stillness.
Now the end is near.
The bedroom, where we once worshipped each other,
Where life was created
Now folds inward
With each box packed full of memory.
A soul remembered,
A self once shattered.
But here I healed.
Here, I was reborn.
Now the end is near.
And yet
My new sunroom, a 70s fever dream,
Breathes the colors of beginning.
Here, gratitude floods in
For the space that once cradled me
When I could barely hold myself.
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