I gaze upon you as you sleep
I climb into the bed
I softly kiss your dreaming eyes
I gently lift your head
I place it overtop my heart
The heart that beats anew
No more to ever be apart
Honey, I've come home to you
In this house, I am swimming
in a mud puddle, somedays
with my arms tight around you
We backstroke
In my house there is dust
settled overtop the daily cares
swept aside in conversations
as we laugh with grit
In my house, old is being replaced
new life is felt with each layer
hammered, drilled, cut, painted over
awakening new with each day
In my house, I dreamed this
planned and prayed for years thus
and when the hand was given
I reached boldly forward....
it's quiet on the lake right now
sun sliding down from it's perch
as I watch with mixed feelings
from a pew in nature's church
enjoying the paint splashed sky
reflected across water's mirror
content smile crinkling my face
for a moment thoughts clearer
before memories drop blinders
overtop my respite briefly won
causing me to bitterly inquire
of what interest
is a sunset
for one?
I once met a girl wearing fuzzy socks
Overtop she wore those polka-dot crocs
She was hardly a catch
For me not quite a match
Although I did like her pretty blue frocks.
written June 9, 2021
for "Fuzzy Socks and Crocs" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Francine Roberts
Saudade, assiduously dumping buckets of gelid-infused water overtop my vehemently flickering flame.
Arrogantly reigning my banished feelings of joie de vi-vre.
Undermining my drumming heart, snapping both ligneous sticks into splinters.
Duping our garish star, precipitating a myriad of inexorably raucous winters.
Absentmindedly amending my evocative, gaudy-slathered soul.
Dowsing my dullsville, dreary inside with black and white.
Etching my gunmetal grave with my name and date, sizzling my emotions with crimson cracked coals.
Poverty of thoughts
beats you endlessly.
What was the other form of violence ?
Body of water bursts.
There was an absentee lover
trying to overtop the levee.
Pounding of chest
was figurative.
Someone was dying of hunger.
It was a great paradox.
The eagle was rising
for a sudden dive.
Labyrinthine. An intricate
argument. From which-
side will come the death ?
Satish Verma
This day is alive
With wondrous sound
Call’s of god’s creations
On the air is abound
Filling my ears
With its beautiful sound
My spirit takes flight
And soon leaves the ground
A tear in my eye
As I breathe it all in
Life’s wonderful magic
Fills my heart once again
I soar through the clouds
On summers soft breeze
Flying high overtop
The tallest of trees
Free of the falseness
Of mortal man’s goals
That later consumes
Their tired lost souls
I no longer am burdened
And have not a care
For now that I fly
Through heavens pure air
A birdsnest hairdo
Birds sit in the dew
Said the bird, "let us fly!"
Said the other, "lets sing a lullaby!"
So they flew overtop singing and did
big do do!
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