She's like the essence of a coral rose
a latent bloomer with a heart of gold
And when she speaks to me in prose
deep inside, she opens doors of old
Rosy cheeked and full of vitality
a thriving blush in my garden of love
Infused with life and immortality
she's been sent from up above
A rose by any name will always be so neat
like cupid wings when flown across the sky
Filled with ample beauty she's replete
soft and mellow, like a gentle sigh
She's the perfume of my scented days,
perfect and valuable in every way.
A joy it is to see
planted in his honor
A Memorial Tree
Roots, memories of Milton
and a kind act for the ecosystem
Forget-Me-Nots shall be written
by your poetry pals, ‘till then
RIP
Lewis Milton Hankins
[Poet]
December 5, 1941 ~ December 22, 2022
Paris at Christmas
Paris at Christmas
city of lights for a week
streets decorated
Eiffel Tower lit
like a Christmas tree aglow
tourists staring up
shoppers bustling crowds
bells ring; children caroling
joy is everywhere
rosy-cheeked Santas
wrapping presents with ribbon
in department stores
light sprinkle of snow
sleigh ride through the Tuileries
wrapped tight in blankets
by L Milton Hankins
December 5, 2022
I Am Anaya comment: Feliz cumpleaños a ti! Belated, hope it was a nice
one Milton. Paris must be on your mind, your many memories of Paris
are joyous! 12/6/22
It was Milt's Birthday, and I could feel the joy in his poem, I felt it!
Paris at Christmas
city of lights for a week
streets decorated
Eiffel Tower lit
like a Christmas tree aglow
tourists staring up
shoppers bustling crowds
bells ring; children caroling
joy is everywhere
rosy-cheeked Santas
wrapping presents with ribbon
in department stores
light sprinkle of snow
sleigh ride through the Tuileries
wrapped tight in blankets
Written December 5, 2022
"Wedding Dress"
Innocence
betrayed a white page
divesting romantic notions
of a pristine life marked
by sibilant soft-tongued seduction
green apple plucked
wrapping serpentine legs like vines
rosy cheeked blushing
a student smarting around
Garden of Arden's Puck
captured essence
from a torn portrait
of picket fences
climbing soft caresses
towards the wild
bee's stinging under
the tightly stitched
waiting room of a
hemmed in
wedding dress
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"To drench your skin with lover's rosy stain.
A chance to find a phoenix for the flame,
A chance to die, but can we
Dance into the fire,
That fatal kiss is all we need.
Dance into the fire
To fatal sounds of broken dreams.
Dance into the fire;
That fatal kiss is all we need
Dance into the fire
When all we see is a view to a kill"
We walked through the park, it had just turned noon,
In a cloudless blue sky, sat a pale crescent moon.
Dressed 'gainst the cold we tramped through the snow,
Tingling cold fingers, our noses aglow.
The pond it was frozen we laughed at the ducks,
Trying to waddle, but not having much luck.
Bare were the trees, the grass glittered white,
The low winter Sun cast a cold blinding light.
Echoes of laughter, snowballs in the air,
Rosy cheeked children played without care.
There stood a snowman, proud as could be,
When the temperature rose, he'd meet his destiny.
Snow started falling in silent profusion,
Mother nature and art, were now in collusion.
Feeling it now, chilled to the bone,
Happy as larks, we headed off home.
Entry for
Ultimate January 2019,Any Form,
Any Theme, up to Max Of 20 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand. Placed =1st.
Misogynist cult
pawns, rosy cheeked petals, for
a cold pallid bane.
Winter’s snow softly falls, flurries
invite me to a magic kingdom -
naïve of bitterness. Cold and warmth
tethered together - in lover’s arms, in hats and coats,
ethereal frozen hands over a chestnut fire.
Rivers made with planks of ice - bridges to a
macrocosm ecstasy of skating, sledding and more - all
against a backdrop of ancient oaks, maples and pines -
glazed with vanilla icing. Gilded Rooftops trill peppermint*
icicles. We snap them off and lick, like lollipops. Rosy-cheeked
children melt, in this serendipitous, wonderland of snow.
12/24/2016
*Illusion to candy canes
Shivering moonbeams twinkle,
whispered snowflakes flutter in their light
Hand in hand we stroll along flurried wishes,
leaving footprints of desire
I wrap you in my arms
as ice crystals sparkle on your lashes
and I see a warm spring day
reflecting in your eyes
Frosted breezes bring a chill,
blustery through pine needle branches
White blankets on bending silhouettes
swaying to the rhythm of our hearts
Still rosy cheeked smiles
and scarf bundled laughter sings,
echoing in snowdrift dreams
of love on a cold winter’s night
Sea Of Love
Holidays on gilt kissed shores
In the season of suns
Is a dream after every wintery travail
With springy feet I had scoured the soft sands
Running a relays with assorted sea-shore temptations -
Corals, kites, sandy castles and my flair in sand drawing
The rising tides were luring my eyes
Abandoning kite flying that had reached the heavens
I tore off my jacket and dashed into the cucumber waters
Drowning and bobbing up with the waves
Refreshed and cheered my rosy cheeked brother and I
We screamed and screeched with the sea gulls above
In retrospect I smile at our holiday on the bohemian shores
Carefreeness and joyfulness is the essence of every holidaymaker
When the sea of life merges with the sea of love
December 11, 2015
Contest: Oil Paintings 5
Sponsor: Eve Roper
In the Dark Night Sky
In the Dark Night Sky, a “Pale Moon” now arises suddenly,
With clouds of ice sparkling in a frozen-cold ring around it;
While your bright, rosy-cheeked face appears as a paste-like
Image of a grinning and laughing White Dwarf so happy!
A Million-Times-Brighter-Hell-Hot Supernova emerges now,
With a colossal colored-array of jewels firmly fixed upon the
Trajectory of a brilliant star trailing and exploding its waves,
As it shakes its cosmic dust on all of your light-filled dreams!
Divinity travels through my veins like warm blood free-flowing;
And as one radiant supercharged beauty kisses God’s very face,
She finds His divine and infinite picture—His view of our Cosmos,
Where the souls of Mankind seek the final spirit of their being!
Wild Moon Dogs howl joyous echoes bouncing into an infinity,
As they choose to dance to an ancient song of peace and love.
This is the final message of the pale moon’s image cresting now
Lonely across the Dark Night Sky as it reflects God’s Starlight!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 17, 2015
(Unrhymed Quatrain)
APRIL
a long time coming
she is rosy cheeked and chill
breath quite treacherous
fickle april of my dreams
fondest promise unfulfilled
Ginger ‘s hair now grey, bragging
Impishly, how she had worn a mini
Never short of partners when
Going out until small hours dancing
Enjoying the infamy of being a rebel the
Rosy cheeked lady recalled yesteryear
Sleep
The violet purple sky above lay eyes to play with the sun
The darkened garnet green of the fields are for animals to seek and run
The warmest orange flame of a fire to sit beside when work is done
The smiling rosy cheeked woman to love when weary eyes are stung
And all is quiet in my world as sweet slumber rest does come
Saved from my own cloaks of darkness; torn from grips
of deceit. I lift my prayers to sun-blushed skies.
The truth, I share, in shades of pink. In worship,
undaunted, rouge-stained dreams turn to gold. The lies
no longer bleed but melt into memories
of a rosy-cheeked girl and fresh potpourri.
Scattering petals of fragile carnations,
I’ll live in peace hushed by pink-gold salvation.
Saved by pink petals as delicate as lace.
Never again, shall I fear my enemy.
Cheeks blush with the love of a beautiful face,
praise and devotion become the remedy.
The mended heart beats in pink-hued harmony
of shimmering hopes and blossoming glory.
Tomorrow held in trusting adoration.
In peace, I’m renewed by pink-gold salvation.
the spring rains have come
with the promise of cleansing and rebirth
striking the earth with a slap
resuscitating the bed of worms
the air itself becomes comes
thickens with longing scrubbed
and beaten to rosy-cheeked perfection
tulips open
gateway blooms, tender, simpering
their birth a wonder
an opening squall
from the extended excess
of eternal life
these small beatings
thrashing's, tearing's bring forth
the red, pink and peach
of a tulip morn
upon such gentle fragility
upon the ever fleeing stasis of
birth, bloom and death
we all reform
coming
in ecstasy
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