Short Swain Poems

D-oing 
I-nspiring 
L-ove 
L-ines 
I-s 
P-oetic 

Topic: Poet (Dillip K. Swain) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic...

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Soothing scintillas
Do kiss an impuissant swain
In weird, wintry pain. 

England seems hoary--
Throttling cold untold lashes
The land of glory....

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Crimson heart pendant
Betoken of a promise
Shattered in the floor
As swain boat sunked in the sea
Breaking ties of true love bond













4-5-2016...

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Pastoral heart of drifting swain
Seeking fair lilly my field requite
Thick clover only passive streams drain
Silt each furrow with frilly delights
Cloak jade meadow with fecund light...

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D-ivine
I-nspirational
L-ine
L-ets
I-ts
P-oetic

S-ublimity
W-ithstand
A-ll
I-mproper
N-otes

Topic: Birthday of poet Dillip K. Swain (August 14) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic...

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VALENTINE NIGHTMARE

An octogenarian swain
Went down on one knee, in some pain.
His proposal rejected,
He was feeling dejected.
Then couldn’t stand upright again.
...

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“Don’t tell your love,” the sage advised,
“Or you will never get her.”
“Well said!” the swain soliloquized,
“But silence works no better.”

(With apologies to William Blake, author of the poem, “Love’s Secret.”)...

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John Wayne
                                               Was a handsome swain.
                                            Westerns were his specialty.
                                           On a horse with a gun he'd be....

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Romantic words spill from a poet's quill
Dreams of love in mirrored reflections
An unlocked chest, confessed to a swain,
purging what was buried inside her heart.
Sonnets filled with tender emotions 
and a solemn pledge of love and devotion....

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There once was a poet named Swain 
Who had absolutely nothing to gain 
     He wrote doggerel all day 
     With nothing much to say 
The old fellow was a genuine pain.


SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written December 24, 2020
For Sencleri-Limoku Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand...

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They kissed, and kissed again
'neath the mistletoe like snow...
love stifled,did not grow,
so bittersweet,her lasting refrain...
her swain,she did not see again.

this quintain inspired by Debbie's poem ' ...a bittersweet vine' presented as a 'conceit' of her 
theme from nature...

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Dozing petrels with soft plumage 
drunken with sage,
don't bite on bark   
when voices don't hark!


Earlier you soared over a plain
greeting a swain
with eyes so sad...
you made him glad!


Dozing petrels, don't fear wolves' cries... 
dancing fireflies  
will bring moonlight
with some starlight!...

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Quintain of: sorrow, despair, agony, misery, lament scoring 
pain
Dolesome drum o'er jaded psyche taps a dark, palling 
refrain
Hamstrung harp bridled soul with dissonant chords 
enchain
Shrill flute a dreary, eerie melody wafts o'er drifting 
swain
Melancholy tenor of wailing violin doth all availing hope 
drain...

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An ode to spring
In quaint quintain
The birds all sing
Their sweet refrain
The winter cold is on the wane

An ode to spring
In quaint quintain
And on the wing
Here comes the rain
And all the world is clean again

This ode to spring
In quaint quintain
Is bound to bring
The lover’s swain
All along the lovers’ lane

Mdailey	2/1/12
Written for the contest English Quintain for a spring day...

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Met me a nymph as I laid by a lake
Spoke her to me, earth, did I quake!
Trail of stardust in her noble wake
Fell on me some of her fairy flake
Hers the magic, my heart the stake

Oh, sweet affliction! My darling Jane 
Lowly poet be this chap, nary a thane
Would that I were your dashing swain
But my place know I, for disdain I feign
As duke you wed, in me shalt you reign 

OluDola2019....

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Let the ringlets be,
Our amulets are flambé, 

Splash the rum in the ocean,
Brash your heart to glean, 

Burghal of the stunted inamorato,
Sensational swain knocking the blistering moderato, 

Reveal into my arms,
Sheal the harms,
Heal the rainstorm charms, 

Predawn our attachment, 
Wiredrawn the moment,
Undrawn the maladjustment, 

I love you ardently, 
You, truelove diffidently....

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Shoved adrift by miffed withdrawn
Some love, one swiftly rowing
Unreal, another wave to shore
To cycle all self-centered apathy
Pillared to a post at most a smile beckons
Lukewarm puke no substitute

See the captain of my soul?
To honor every breath
One swain allured by slightest motion
Drawn to the lyric every moment
The twain you seek to disregard
Yet I build a bridge to you?...

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the shoulder chip remains, 
the world disdains,
till the casket thinks its over,
and we come together, cant explain,
just some ancient tale of lovers,
with just the smell of rain,
sweet rolling in the clover,
perchance again,
not over till its ova,
return my angel swain,
though i be daed an slain,
when a new century past october,
i will wait again :)
just johnson reborn,
the rover,
too early 2 explain.... 

Don...

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lifeless black how eyes                                                                                                 cold chilling features bring scad                                                                                   blank expressions smiles                *                                                                 *                                                                       - a snowman...

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This passion that within me lies
Was set ablaze by her eyes.

Upon such beauty did I look,
My lovestruck heart, a leap it took.

Truly caught in love's sweet game,
I follow, as some smitten swain.

For what else is a man to do,
When cupid calls, his arrow true.

My whole being burns with desire,
For she ignites, my inner fire.










Entry for The Fire Inside - Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by Julie Rodeheaver
10/11/2017. Placed 2nd....

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LANDSCAPE    DESIGNER

Though it often seems asleep
Countryside  life is all on the  move
Stop to watch a hunting  hedgehog                                  
Or follow a beautiful ridgewalk
Can I  the landscape improve
And its natural beauty keep?

Start designing it all over again?
Wishing for castles in Spain.
I’m wanting to  enrich stock  -
Me,  a  barn-helper with his pitchfork. 
I’m no designer,   just a swain
What can I add to this  terrain?...

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Her putrid tree limbs
hold the glass in magnetic swain
Her Latin chants and mumbles
Drawing power from the shadows
that wear her like a shroud
As her chant crescendos
Mirrored mist moves within its
twisted silver frame
Darkness stumbles into light
Images punch and falter
Grasping tendrils
trail the mirror
from the other side
tasting for a way through
Her voice now guttural
Scream and grunts
Shes dead now
No more excuse
Tell me
Who is the fairest of them all?...

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A time comes in every mans life
When a decision is to be made
"Should I go on living in this hell,
Or should I die by the blade?"

Is the pain something to sustain
Is it worth all the strife
Is it worth all the lonliness
Is salvation rife

Ive decided long ago 
To suffer through the pain
To go on living in this hell
For I have become the swain

Ive found a light through all the black
A house at the edge of the sea
A becon in this lonly land
And I know shes just for me...

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