Shawled Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Premium Member With a Gentle Hand

Mama, did you know the precious amethyst shadow hours
I spent beside you, cuddled cosy-close, nestled in blankets of light,
shawled in your red-gold hair? I kissed each tear you cried;
each one a starlight pearl forged from the depths
of your fragile soul. I rocked seashell-shut to each lullaby note
and silently watched as you rocked my cold, empty cradle.
Sometimes you sensed me coiled at your breast -
a small, balled knot of grief. You felt my tiny fingers plucking at you
as tingling shivers. And sometimes I bounced sunshine-free
on your knee, a giggling orb of light.

Little one, once again I felt you here,
entombed in the womb of this eternal everywhere room,
your spirit sifting through my fingers like hourglass sand.
Pain has blanked my mind wraith-white, but I felt
your lips nip the warm rosebuds of my nipples
as I pressed a lullaby to the delicate shell of your ear
and brief blessed seconds spun out like years.
My sentient heart will always hold you, my grip will never slip
as my earthbound hands, human-warm, reach through time
and heather-shadowed ether to love and care for you.

Premium Member November Loss

In fog-shawled autumn the memory

returns to me, bittersweet as

cardinal fruits of hawthorn,

the fallen, fading leaves...

lost berry-baby

nestled within

blankets of

morning

mist.

Aura of Quietus

A bouquet of the vestiges of our gall
An aroma that we all parade
With an essence we can't abate
One day it shall encompass us all
For we are inevitable to the fall
And that sinewy scent gives us no shade
From that quietus, not willing to fade
But when we enter the gates, we shall be shawled
Let that last fragrance trumpet our arrival
As we cross the everlasting sea
Cause those that greet us are only tribal
But if your name is ascribed in the book of the bible
The the scent of quietus will set you free
For only our transgressions, we are liable.


The River Courses

The river courses, its currents speed
      as it carves the land; pushes against the mud, 
the long grasses bending over the dark deep 
light blue-brown.
                         Her grandmother creaks the rungs 
of her rocking chair, 
her shawled shape is molded earth colors
                        like the river and its banks, 
            both passing time quietly, alone.
     The rain changes the sky 
          outside her window; it becomes Dove-grey.
            The clouds are wrapped together, 
                         sunlight cushioned, they are bandages 
with the light like blood seeping
            until the empyrian is completely covered,
      and clots- Venus, Mars and Jupitor, perhaps-
                         behind the outer layer of the celestial sphere
in a sea of wedding-white.
The full moon is veiled 
                        within the cottony gauziness, 
      it shines in the violent heavens.

Fly, Not As I

Vapor trails of jetting Jets
Pattern the dawn blue sky;
I gaze unseeing the passengers
With courage to fly, not as I.

Without firm ground beneath my shoes,
Fear straddles my old shawled shoulders.
Is this what it is, I muse
To be “older” and growing “older.”

In my closed eyes a boulder rises to my face,
Safe, soft statistics drift like shreds, crumble.
In my world this feeble flying fear
Freezes good sense; I am humbled.

Premium Member Fair Branches and Forest Shade

Centre of this galaxy 
through the darkness you came 
shawled by your presence entirely

From the ancient tree of wisdom growing wise 
The righteous flourish like the palm
at the foothill carved on its bark

Where the birds will nest finding shelter
under the shade of its branches

Plentiful as the sycamore-fig trees 
for the forest of the vintage is coming down.
So he built the house finishing it with beams of cedar.


Fly, Not As I

Fly, Not As I

Vapor trails of jetting Jets
Pattern the dawn blue sky;
I gaze unseeing the passengers
With courage to fly, not as I.

Without firm ground beneath my shoes,
Fear straddles my old shawled shoulders.
Is this what it is, I muse
To be “older” and growing “older.”

In my closed eyes a boulder rises to my face,
Safe, soft statistics drift like shreds, crumble.
In my world this feeble flying fear
Freezes good sense; I am humbled.

Premium Member Deep Soft Trickles

Softly touching deep cords vibrate within,
The song within my heart with golden notes begin.

As sadness flows trickling In Cello magic,
Soul's storm It Is flowing In Violin tragic.

Like a river babbling wild free,
The heart has no bounds where Love has to be.

Sweet dancing upon ripples of air,
A waltz In the clouds with dream's lady so fair.

Flowing Into an open ocean's waves,
Upon your golden heart your dream Love engraves.

Singing echoes haunting our world,
Dream's memories before us unfurled.

Rising salted emotions suffering powerless,
Sadness grows and the heart loses Its prowess.

Bated breaths shawled deep held Inside tears,
Cold Ice cube memories brittle Icing fears.

Floating breeze fluttering gently,
Touching desires In Love's flame diligently.

Touching each string cries out,
What tunes shall these strings shout.

A songbirds lament,
In grief It Is sent.

A piano speaks so softly,
As Its keys play music loftily.

Telling one story In tune,
That shall ever be told before moon.

How sweet your beautiful words sung deeply,
How they did touch my tender heart completely.

A Collaboration by Liam Mcdaid & Michael Clarke.

The Old Woman

Shawled against 
the damp night chill,
she waits
slumped low, 
crumbled
in her favorite chair.
Old and tired 
she waits.
Eyes, once bright, 
cast a milky stare 
blind to all 
but distant memories 
and moments carved 
treasured wooden dolls 
faces and form 
now whittled away
unrecognizable.
Lines and furrows etch 
the frail countenance
struggling in vain to see
a fast approaching 
destiny.
Daylight dims as twilight fades,
and lurking in the corner there,
A Dark Shadow
smiles. . . . .
as the old woman waits 
Alone.

Premium Member Hiding In Shadows

fog slowly dropping
eerily rolling out 
a dense blanket
begins spreading
creeping over ground
invading forces

her cold fingers
twisting knots
touching slowly
trembles deeply
shivering in body
rattle bones
into the spine

dark souls dance
in a grey area 
clouds eyes 
without shadows
onlooking feasting sinners
within shawled emotions

casting black
falling  feelings
of moist darkness
weeping sadness
within deaths valley
lost in love

Premium Member Touching

softly touching (I feel a stir...)
upon keys
a piano speaks
in cello
fluttering chords
tugs strings 
deep within
(a deep tingling sensation within...)

sadness flows (My eyes tracing...)
dancing with emotion
feelings flowing
a river
joining hearts
flowing an ocean
in salted emotions
(a focused soul with open arms...)

our world (I embrace with joy...)
so much suffering
powerless to help
on bated breath
shawled within crying
fluttering so gently
a floating breeze
each string cries
(as my heart flutters above oceans...)

as the piano speaks (I hear a soft whisper...)
softly telling 
the story
a wounded sparrow
cries a songbird
fluttering broken wing
(as my fingers reach out to caress...)

Premium Member Who Gave Wings

i feel love 
those words 
hold my tongue
to touch 
stroking upon chords
soul moving
softly whispering
in a breeze

a shawled echo
held deep iside
sweetest music
caressing upon
the strings
touching sands
of one
deepest ocean
love begins
to shine

in you
my direction
sailing emotions
cry out 
a name
dancing feelings
growing wings
to one
so sweet and beautiful

the soul flies 
fluttering with wings
held in space
to dance
with you
a regal beauty
one princess
you are now
my souls wings

i feel like speaking 
words i have 
only spoken 
of in dreams 
you take 
my breath away 
souls connecting
sparked in space

Dusk's Sacred Shawl

Please do not convince me of my ignorance or naivety.
Naive to the cynic, the sun sets on my faith and all my eyes see.
Eyes see bright visions of dusk's inner beauty wrapped in sacred shawl.
The sacred shawled in heavenly grace, never shall cold nights fall.
Cold nights fall away, no threatening winds; souls laud in faith's armor.
Silver armor of faith lifts me at dusk in wafting spiritual myrhh.
The aroma of myrhh resonates from Eden's blooming floral praise.
Of flowering praise, a melody sings the poet's love on sunlit days.
These sunny days sweeten lives with hope christened in dusky starlight,
Starlight reflects love and an aura of truth, repelling darkest plights.
Plights from our darkest earthly nights are left buried in ancient dirt;
dirt falls from the ancient in sacred shawl, convinced they shall never hurt.
-

By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, August 14, 2012
for the Wreath on the Flavor of Dusk Contest

Soft Winds of Camiguin

Fanning out like a preening peacock's tail,
  the shimmering palm trees line up the shore
    as if screaming out to the waves, "encore!"

Yonder, draped and shawled in moist, dark-green moss,
  stands tall a majestic mahogany,
    its leaves hum to the breeze a melody!

Slender-stemmed leaves wag in the whistling wind,
  feathers float, in little swirls they flutter,
     in the grass, hops and stops the grasshopper!

Mahogany

...strong, towering tree

   shawled soft in moist moss

   quiet dignity...

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