Top 25 Results (Member Poems)
You searched Exact Keyword(s): nursery in category: All and form: sestina with 10 minimum and 5000 maximum characters.
Back
Details |
Sestina
|
Poetry reveals, enlightens, consoles
Holding reflecting mirrors up to our souls,
Showing what we might not otherwise see
Suggests how our lives might better be
Poetry instructs, refreshes, and amuses,
Often fascinates; sometimes confuses.
Poetry blends the colors of our experiences
Breaks down walls, erects dividing fences,
Permits perilous flights into magical fantasy
Unravels the mysteries of life’s intricacy,
Regales with tales of mystical adventures,
Prompts us to embark upon new ventures.
Poetry can salvage the wounded spirit
Sing harmony for those who will hear it,
Filling bland, boring, monotonous pages
With soft, sweet whispers or violent rages,
Sometimes it reveals an innermost secret
Or shares the truth of an unexpected visit.
Poetry speaks to the innermost presence
Voices reality or delves into the essence,
Leaves much room for interpretations,
Sometimes making astounding revelations
Predicting the future in rhyming couplets,
Or separating into parts like small drupelets.
Poetry relives the epic stories of the Norse
And, always, there is Shakespeare, of course
Occasionally putting down the modern idiom
While revering the archaic, somber requiem
Libraries hold sacred the ancient poetic tomes
Lines of fairies, gargoyles, and gnarled gnomes.
Poetry demands respect of roaming muses
Who spark far-flung ideas the poet uses
Harnessing fleeting glimpses of the mind
Poetry—literature of its own creative kind
From sonnets to haiku to nursery rhymes
Penned for people of all climes…and all times.
[A modified Sestina sans envoi]
written August 26, 2021
|
Details |
Sestina
|
No mother would fill up her eyes with tears of woman...
if it weren't for God performing a miracle at dawn,
as she cried out in joy and held her baby in trembling arms
but shed many sweet tears hearing his laughter so loud;
oh, he couldn't see her mommy's face through his tiny eyes,
and it will be long before he'll will utter the first word, " Mom."
Now that baby sleeps under the attentive look of his mom,
who's too young to become a mature woman;
many visions of this birth crossed her gleeful eyes
she dreamed of the very same words whispered at each dawn,
repeating them in her silly head as if they sounded too loud...
while cradling a pretty doll in her folded arms.
Will she be welcomed home by her parents opening their arms?
Will they reprimand her and not consider her a legal mom?
Perhaps they will not be angry and speak not so loud:
girls are supposed to be girls, not suddenly turn into woman...
So this innocent girl, deceived by a bad boy, must wake up at dawn
when her baby cries and feed him with scary, childish eyes?
Nights seem longer for her, trying to stay awake rubbing her eyes,
what she beheld in those exciting eyes, now it's a burden in her weary arms;
she remembers that pain was too unbearable, but joy more sublime at dawn...
how will she learn how to care for the infant by watching her mom?
She must have seen a nursery or read a book how to think like a real woman,
and can anyone imagine how she keeps that secret instead of revealing it loud?
She must gather enough courage inside to feed her baby who can't cry loud,
but for now she must carry that baby without sighs of distress into her bright eyes;
and her parents can see the changes making her a loving person already woman;
they may ask questions to why she has gained weight and holds dolls in her arms...
no, they aren't anticipating great news and in doubt, they await a splendid dawn.
Mother and daughter closely together amazed by the coming dawn,
any concealed secret can be easily spoken...somewhat joyful and loud;
they imagine the infant's futures will be part of grandma and mom!
Their reunited hearts come together to show love in their delighted eyes,
and they'll take turns feeding the new-born, tenderly lulling him in their arms;
what if forgiveness hadn't been there to deny her all of the joys of woman?
Would a mother deny her daughter compassion as a good woman?
Even God hurried dawn to offer that gift into her gracious, tender arms...
and those arms accepted it with the gentleness and kindness of mom.
|