How the wind plays
across the water
in changing patterns,
its skittish mood drawn
in ripples and rivulets
of sparkle under
a morning sun.
The small boats fidgety
at their moorings
as if roused by longings
of freedom,
cormorants riding
the unrest on bobbing prows
with outstretched wings
drying in the wind.
See how the day
is slowly being assembled,
putting itself together
with ferry boats
and dogs pulling on leads,
wired joggers, noisy children
in school uniforms
crowding at bus stops,
workers putting up signs.
How it all seems
to be following some hidden
script. And here I am, again,
walking the morning
looking for what I lost
in the long hours
of a sleepless night
when it doesn't
have a name,
being ushered by the wind
towards a somewhere
or nowhere at all,
helped along
my shuffling way
by a strange sense
of unhurried trust
that all will be OK.
Categories:
prows, morning, sun, trust, water,
Form: Free verse
Why must enjoyable times wither?
On Sunday, the flowers flourish,
Yet on Monday, they perish.
Time flies
To an ether unknown
With weeping eyes.
The lion’s groan
To the lover, cries.
All flesh to the bone,
Which my soul denies,
Prows once again, alone.
Categories:
prows, angst, confusion, deep, depression,
Form: Rhyme
moored hulls sink lower
in a rising haze
as ghost ships
they slowly surface
when the sky
finds a patch of clarity
again and again
the vessels slip
in and out of the mist
only to come back painted by
distant seas
farther horizons
that ship deep-sea spume
over anchored hulls
wet ropes creak
rigging rattles
as a foaming fog washes
over prows
unseen gulls call
summoning visions
of whitecaps last seen
in a shipwrecked
china teacup
Categories:
prows, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Itch, witch, glitch or twitch not me which witch?
Dark mystic nights, shines so ever bright,
malignant supernatural prows,
Woman practicing familiar skills
Bewitching in out of darkest night
Awakens harlots journey arouse
Mixing potions grounding bone hawks-bill's
Itch, witch, glitch or twitch not me which witch?
Samantha Stevens, bewitching nose,
Administered her power her, twitch
A dinkle-dinkle-dink her nose goes,
Aunt Clara a witch whose witchcraft’s glitch
Itch, witch, glitch or twitch not me which witch?
Darkness surrounds the light just lit and…
all the creepy things that bumps and bites
Itch, witch, glitch or twitch not me which witch
10/17/19
Itch, witch, glitch or twitch Poetry Contest
Rhyme poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
Categories:
prows, analogy, identity, irony, woman,
Form: Rhyme
I believe in the
power of the mighty one
the stronger he is
my weighed prows
mussels throbbing sweating
the stronger is he
what does sea have..
to do with the muscles I...
hold up mighty arm
2/7/18
By James Edward Lee Sr.
Categories:
prows, analogy, engagement, imagery,
Form: Haiku
Boat prows bobbing rhythm
fisherman meshing a net ~
sisters hair flowing.
Categories:
prows, sister,
Form: Haiku
I Chased A Rainbow
I chased a rainbow across brilliant sky
I ran blinded without even asking why
Colors blasted my deepest thoughts apart
sky a shining rainbow did swiftly yield
a journey I flew into with a hurried start
chasing a work of art into a flowery field
So easy to feel the aura and singing hues
as I raced blissfully on my merry way
great mystery awaiting without any clues
a longing sent that my heart must obey
Diamonds and gold I did not ever find
a glory of mercies was what I found
love soon took hold of my lonely mind
as divine music gave out lovely sound
Dancing fairies next took their bows
as I scampered across and all around
ships appeared with such stately prows
golden anchors clinking on silver ground
I caught a rainbow Spirit with a plea
increase the love of precious life in me
Robert J. Lindley 07-28-2014
This came to me as I was waking this fine morn.
Lack of time to write it down , I mentally finished
it later today. I saw rainbow light as I woke this
morning. Methinks my Muse was shouting at me! lol
Categories:
prows, appreciation, beautiful, creation, dance,
Form: Rhyme
Here's a toast to the ones you leave behind.
To the ones who time carries you past,
spending a while with comrades
until the rivers drag you away.
To the ones who sail their own courses through life,
a far, far cry from your own.
And yet, that cry is always heard,
in the end,
for companionship ever beckons.
The lanterns on their prows
shine a light for you, always;
whenever they're near their fellow in need.
To the ones you never fail
and who never fail you;
to the ones whose separation
marks the end of an era.
Yes;
a toast to the ones you leave behind.
Categories:
prows, absence, family, friendship, life,
Form: Free verse
Leaf shadows
Manically dancing
Mincing moonlight
Into myriad motes…
Montages of mystery
Upon which
Reality floats..
Leaf shadows dancing
Withdrawing…
Advancing…
Rivulets retreating
Neath prows
Of night’s boats
Swiftly sketched…
and as swiftly erased
By leaves and limbs
Leaving no trace…
The artistic trees
One would suppose
Have only need
Of light and shadows
Palette imbued only
With black and white…
Colors of lonely
Hints of light
Leaf shadows capering,
carelessly, capriciously
Cast upon canvas
…Of moonlit night…
Categories:
prows, art, moon,
Form: Light Verse
Quick and slow, pulsed to jibe and rudder
Late dancing in the luminous waves
The boats angle the cresting froth tops
Sails arched, full burst in the briny
Air paces vastly to horizon’s rim
The hazing glow of sky to sea
They bob and streak, the prows steadfastness
Each sailor guides to the compass, knowing
The importance of destination
Categories:
prows, philosophy
Form: Verse