Take initiative go to the light where the force of darkness ends
A flame needs its kindled source as a sparking awareness mends
Our enlightened energy wrapped in an array of cavernous colors
Ribboned radiant impressions given in vast deepest depths squalors
A shadow self may live dormant and await unveiling the chaos within
When it has become an unbearable journey to live in your own skin
Opaque indigo stones skim over shallow waters in an empty well
Stratas rock labyrinths chiseled lies of neglect in a nautilus shell
Warm sorrel ribbon evokes sympathy in a disparaged tale of woe
A sorbet of violet, green, and tangerine conjure a melodious flow
What is truly a wellspring of a healing rainbow palette renders
We find the key to unlocking magic embers in dormant chambers
Dank darkness may lead us astray from individuality and truth
Take initiative, find the light of all brightest light reaching for you
Waves of pale blue wafted through the quilted Texas sky
Highlighting the tangerines and lavenders of the evening
Grandpa’s old windmill looked picturesque in the distance
Sundown believes in imagination, adoration and fantasy
I stared into the ribboned distance, wondering if the trees suspected
They had an essential part in the mystique of the moment
Birds were reverent, none of them flew through the backdrop
My camera captured the night’s beauty, but not her silent ambiance
Mulled Cider Memories
Santa Claus sees what we
are doing.
We rejoice in grandly...
snow-shoeing.
And, oh we do love our hot,
mulled cider.
Especially next to a warm, cozy,
fire!
Christmas tunes joyfully fill many
a home.
Friends an relatives here, who do
Love us ..and do not roam.
We love each other for who we, as
individuals, truly are.
Freedom lovers, we, one and all,who
sing beneath silver, Christmas stars.
Speaking our truths, behind wreathed
ribboned, decorated doors
Bright eyes that sparkle, arms that hold.
True love carved, in poetic, holiday gold.
12/10/2024
Time keeps crawling
Time thaws fleeting days
Days with daisy hope
Days where you fall
Fall to rise again
Fall in perfumed dreams
Dreams forgotten
Dreams lost in silence
Silence that sings
Silence with secrets
Secrets unquestionable
Secrets unfathomable
Unfathomable reality
Unfathomable clarity
Clarity with no remorse
Clarity of seven stars
Stars of lavender love
Stars of silver hymns
Hymns of forsaken flowers
Hymns whispered in rhymes
Rhymes left unwritten
Rhymes with no rhythm
Rhythm of bleeding ink
Rhythm of whistling waves
Waves of healing
Waves of cleansing
Cleansing yesterday’s pain
Cleansing masks of shame
Shame rinsed in mauve rain
Shame with shimmering stains
Stains of rosy red
Stains from emerald emotions
Emotions that made me hush
Emotions from tokens of love
Love painted in prose
Love within my heart
Heart ribboned with sunsets
Heart reflecting clementine sky
Sky sequined in sapphires
Sky quilted in rubies
Rubies within summer blues
Rubies mirror twilight hues
Hues of moonlit souvenirs
Hues of untangled strings
Strings of faith
Strings of words
Words mean nothing
Words mean everything
Everything…
Nothing…
Fashionable Fall flaunts her lustrous leaves,
catwalks flowing flora with earnest ease.
Haunting lullabies from the quaking trees
cast chilling currents from mountain to keys.
Dancing diamonds of glistening glow
show skies with promise of soon-to-be snow.
Sunrises and sunsets are a fireworks show
scattering the stars like dice in a throw.
Gowns of complementary colors trace
ribboned harvest fields at riotous pace.
Swirling with natural, elegant grace,
her glamor failing and fast losing face.
Tattered trees largely stripped bare of their clothes
leave a psychedelic pathway that flows.
With each rowdy breeze, it gustily blows,
and turns pale snozzle to a reddened nose.
With stinging, shallow breath and crimson cheeks
embrace lacy lakes and mountains’ paling peaks
till Winter steals through Fall and solemnly seeks
favor for upcoming ice-hearted weeks.
Words have color and intent,
texture, size and shape;
loosed by emotions we give
legs to lowly travel, and wings
to keep them aloft~ those articulated
ribboned kites we fly in our poetry
Once released, we can never take
them entirely back
Words knit together and scatter,
Blend and splatter
Mend and shatter – make smile
and tear...
Words are everything to
marvel under and over
Something for everyone
we should both treasure
and fear.
Inspired by those separated by WWII, their sacrifice, and the brothers and sisters who are now joining those they lost so young...and, this day in the Ukraine once again...
I never thought I'd miss the clickety-clack;
like a tap dancing minstrel - hour on hour
the carriage would slide,
only to pause for a cigarette and more
thoughtful inspiration.
As smoke ribboned, you would write again
in its foggy veil, and I would nod off
leaving you - a misty aberration.
I cherish that now...and the earring
in my breast pocket, golden, like my memories
and my promise to return it to you
will be kept, no matter...
Your novels used to be of love,
of plane tickets to romantic beaches,
instead, you write now of beaches
where soldiers die and lovers cry.
My strength lies in your embrace
and thoughts that still hold you.
Be safe, and write of love once more.
(A fictional letter from "Harm's Way")
You wrote from your impassioned heart, dear Mama,
An ode, or a sonnet, penned without undue drama.
I sang your lyrics time and again, calling your name
They were your legacy; they never sounded the same
As when you gathered us toddlers into your arms,
And sang to us your sweet verses and psalms.
You wrote from your innermost being, dear Mama
Losing you brought all of us children great trauma.
We searched for comfort among your beautiful things
Your hair ribbons, your pictures, your wedding rings,
But nothing consoled us found among your frocks
Like the pages you saved in your red-ribboned box.
Time has faded the memories we shared long ago
Places we went before life dealt us that fateful blow
Leaving Dad and us children to forage on our own.
But Dad kept us together until we were fully grown
Sometimes we get together as opportunity knocks,
And, always read poems from Mom’s red-ribboned box.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written March 8, 2021
Revised and Edited for "I Remember" Contest
Sponsored by Malabika Ray Choudhury
You wrote your deepest passionate thoughts, dear Mama,
Odes, or a sonnet, penned without undue drama.
I sang those lyrics many times, calling your name
They were your legacy; never sounded the same
As when you gathered us toddlers into your arms,
And sang sweetly to us from your verses and psalms.
Times together none of us can ever erase
The resonance of your voice, the smile on your face.
You wrote from your innermost being, dear Mama
Losing you brought all of us children great trauma.
We searched for comfort among your beautiful things
Your hair ribbons, your pictures, your gold wedding rings,
But nothing consoling was found among your frocks
Like the pages you saved in your red-ribboned box.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written March 6, 2021
Submitted to "Poetry As Legacy" Contest
Sponsored by Line Gautier
The Breath Of Winter Sigh Of Spring.
.
After the long icy crippling breathe of winter
At last a warmer welcoming sigh of spring
Heralds a promise of better things to come
The end of stagnation and decay
And the rebirth of abundant living things
.
The wiry trees prepare to clothe and dress
The now fertile ground
No longer under deaths duress
As hazy sunlight filters and dances through
Finger tendrils and contorted twisted naked branches
From a sprawling canopy of vibrant blue
.
Clear sun-kissed ripples
Cascade and weave trough the scattered rocks of sandstone
Of a rushing gushing gurgling
Sparkling gleaming silver ribboned stream
Journeying through vale moorland and pasture
Evoking thought of summer dreams
.
Songster birds scurry and hurry
Collecting nesting scrags and things
Dormant critters awaken
As a season of plenty now begins.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
+Her Spirit Sublime+
She knelt in God's marble chapel, in her uniform.
A suit of deep,forest green with fresh white blouse
honoring God, her King.
So young, she bowed her shiny brunette head in reverence,
Hearing the robins sing, that teenage spring, singing
in angelic consonance.
Her prayerbook of black leather, gold-leaf edges and
ribboned marker of red,
Made her realize as she stroked it, that is was only by God
was she to be led.
The delicate scent of candles that burnt so bright!
The artwork of mosaiced windows, sunlit-hued made her
feel heavenly light.
Her crystal, beaded rosary which transformed,the white marbled
walls, into a supernatural rainbow divine.
Grateful, to be in a school, that this memory still sings in her memory, sweet,alive and utterly, sublime!
11-30-2020
10:30am PST
**Poem of the Day**
12/2/2020
Dedication~ to my high school and religious mentors, who taught
me who runs this world! Thank you.
In the long journey of the stream on the lap of planar plateau,
through the draping expanse of the emerald forest it slithers,
rolls over the broken contours of lowland as the surge askew
in the cascade of ribboned flow like fluidized swan feathers.
It collapses on the cleaved rocky floor, clad in reclined ferns,
as the gushing exuberance of splattered pearls of jubilation,
expressed in monotone splintering the silence of verdance,
the air in the tranquil valley ripples with the echo of elation.
Gliding with crystal waters of the bubbling champagne flow,
it dances on wave of land in dale of flowers in a looping line,
around the balanced boulders sparkling with malachite glow,
amid the patina of foliage glistened by the drizzle of sunshine.
The seamless shimmering sky on the sheathe of green canopy,
illumines the mystique shroud of diaphanous mist rising slow,
lifts the dark curtain for the dawn to rise from the horizon fiery,
in a trance I’m lured by enticing nature’s light and sound show.
Written : October 18, 2020
December 17, 2022
Contest : 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 23
Sponsored by : Mark Toney
The tide of time stood motionless silent
with me, marooned on the aegean beach,
gleaming in the drizzle of tiffany twilight,
as the senile sun sank in admiral splendor
beyond the luring lap of the lapis horizon,
cobalt sea soaked the splinters of cyan sky,
ribboned by the strands of periwinkle cloud,
blown by the rippling aquamarine breeze.
You came flying on sapphire wings of zephyr,
the swirling ebony hair kissing your teal lips,
laced the latticed eyelids of the prussian eyes.
From the sliding shadow of the azure waves,
I swam on the turquoise twinkle of your eyes,
drowned deep in the indigo sea of your heart,
embracing me with ardor of cerulean yearning.
October 7, 2020
For Brian Strand's Contest A Brian Strand July22
A bitter, bitter, bitter, blow,
As Coronavirus shuts down Padstow,
Nurses wear masks and patients wear gowns,
As the global pandemic attacks Cornish towns,
Just a small virus which decides to invade,
Means empty beaches and not much town trade,
With locals afraid they might succumb,
Tourists are told, stay away, do not come,
Once happy throngs in the streets were seen,
Now a ghost-town patrolled by Covid-19,
No ribboned Obby Oss’s parading this year,
No crowds enjoying a pasty with beer,
The fishing boats stay within the harbour wall,
As restaurants stay closed and fish prices fall,
With 20/20 vision and hindsight combined,
Padstow’s ‘new normal’, it will have to find …
Wind Swept Beauty.
.
Upon hilly brackish tor
Of a wild inhospitable
Windswept ambling moor
Woolly sheep chew cud and bleat
In the shadow of the over looking
Rugged towering sister mountains
.
A sprawling sweeping land
Of tawny browns and greens
And carpets of purple heather
Laid by God’s hand in between
.
Linier lecithin blotched
Higgledy piggledy drystone walls
Boundary lines
Thickets of bracken
Woody copper copse
With steeple wind battered tree tops
.
Silver ribboned stream and brooks
Snaking through the rugged land
Gushing rushing over
Stone pebble and boulder
Sparkling cold clear and clean
Lazy pouting gasping trout
Suddenly turn and try to kiss the sky
As a flock of flapping crows
With raucous calls pass by
.
A harsh unforgiving land
Weather beaten unrefined
Rugged beauty upon sodden earth
On which it defiantly stands
Under temperamental moody
Ominous varied darkened sky’s
Capturing many a heart
And pleasing the eye.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
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