gathering storm clouds
quenching relief from the heat
rainfall through my life
crystal cluster scintillate on etheric arm silvery
throned in centre I sit pert alert
observing galaxies glitter gloriously at golden gate
silent stars circling dance luminosities, flawlessly
ordained with eternal breath echoing eerie
I shake ringed jewels from cobalt space ~
silvery full moon
through stark naked oak tree limbs....
frozen pine needles
downhill heat pump groans to start
condensate breath billows
Silvery Chants
I am nothing but a boat its wing has silvery chants I can't tell you their secrets. When the silvery voice showed me its soul, all the deep whispers dissolved in my dream as a sleepy rose. I can tell you another mystic glance; there are slivery seas, and you can feel their fingers touch your depth with calm astonishment. No, I am not a sorcerer, but I am just a passenger can’t sit on our bough when my talk about the bright horses. There were cities of a sliver its whispers touch our window with smiles, penetrate our depth without delay and invade our souls with a deep salute. I was just a young child, and you can't expect to find in my pocket any fairies but our land is the daughter of a silvery voice. Yes, I was just a smooth southern child sits on our bough with slivery chants in his small pocket."
I haven’t always dreaded the approach of night;
I’d loved it, in fact, for its mysterious ways
And how the darkness would seem to swallow the light
That manages still to shine its dazzling rays,
Bathing all in its path in silvery white
And giving everything a porcelain-like glaze.
Now, though, as the day comes to its destined end
I shake with fear at what the shadows portend.
It was not long ago when in the dead of night
He came to my room and loomed over me,
His face familiar though it was against the light,
He ignored my tears and most earnest plea,
So while my room was bathed in silvery white
He defiled kinship and violated me.
Now as twilight brings the day slowly to end
I brace myself for what the shadows portend.
November 3, 2024
Baguio City
In the evening hour, when silvery tears embroider your delicate cheek,
The celestial blue from the depth of your eyes, lost stars,
Gently rest upon the tender altar of love that binds us,
A fragile bridge suspended between the white peace of summer and the tumultuous heart of autumn.
We thirstily drink the mysterious elixir, a nectar not even the gods have dreamt of,
Plunging into the hesitant echo of a prelude to an unimaginable end,
Reflecting our lives like in a crystal within the murky and deep waters,
Slyly we nourish our beings, hurried to heal from the eternal hunger for love.
The night scatters stars across the firmament, shyly announcing the coming of dawn,
And somewhere, in this vast cosmic theater, I softly surrender in your arms,
A tableau of dreams, concluding my saga in the all-powerful love that envelops us.
The Silvery Night
Above is a canopy
Studded with many thousand glittering stars
The vast sky
The rays of the golden ball
Gild the darkness of the night
Greener surroundings
Appear to be in black
Yet decorated with many
Flickering lights
The fireflies
Mysterious sounds of the
Night creatures
It is a melody with no lyrics
The cool breeze moves around
With much ease
Words don’t come easy
For me to explain
The beauty of the silvery night.
Poetry by Tiny Sahabandu
Tis here where it all started, do you remember
Young and innocent we were, under the silvery moon in it's celestial splendor
Arms wrapped around each other, oh how could I forget
Then you moved far away, I sadly do regret
Years later we are back on this lonely bench just like before
As the sweet fragrant breeze of midnight fills the air so petrichor
Illuminating the sky, the silvery moon looks down in awe
Wrapped around each other's arms, eyes locked up in a mysterious glance
He reaches for her hand, the lovers start to dance
Cotton candy clouds swirling around in a mesmerizing trance
As their minds connect in a midnight romance
Flickering stars, no musical beat
Dancing to the tunes of their thumping heartbeat
Swinging her hips from side to side, feeling his warm embrace
Turning and twisting, her golden tresses wraps around his face
Drawing him closer, her lips beckoning for kisses
As their bodies meet he grants her her wishes
Souls in unison, lost in a world of love's delight
Kissing and hugging, hearts shimmering bright
As they continue to dance under the silvery moonlight
moonlight stoically
pours silver on riverside
dry river cries dust
The Southern Cross’ trajectory across
the night sky marks the hours that come to pass.
Her prone figure no longer an hourglass;
by the silvery light of Phoebe’s* gloss.
I cling to the edge of the bed, toss
and turn—my reminiscing turns to farce.
Hebe† has long since fled and passion is sparse.
As inscriptions on wedding rings embossed:
‘May our love last forever and a day.’
Eos, turn me into a cicada black!‡
Unlike lovesick Orpheus,** I’m not fey
and I would definitely not turn back
for another round of intimate play.
As lover, she had given me the sack!
I endure constant flak
from my mates down at the pub over pint
that I’m in a terrific moral bind;
inspiration is slack.
If only we could turn back aging clock:
Oh, Selene,†† you might espy lovers who flock
to her bed and lose track.
TINTED STRAND OF WISDOM
The day my eyes beheld
the sheeny silvery strand
almost had a nervous breakdown
was it not just yesterday
we recited nursery rhymes
and danced in the rain
yesterday when we wore oversized
shoes and baggy clothes
that mama bought us for christmas
yesterday when we were just
girls who had gabfests filled with
giggling about the far future
oh there it is!
the very first grey hair
glittering and standing proud
like a trophy about to be
presented to the winning team in the
glaring view of the teeming audience
first thought was to pluck it out
but at a second glance
saw art in the mind's eye
it's just a strand
not the official opening
of the floodgates
it's inevitable and means nothing
ultimately the beautiful
melanin hair will one day turn grey
no need to conceal it
not only does it get finer with age
but it also comes with insight
A seagull flew by
With a fish in its beak,
A sight which, to others,
Might not be unique.
But here by the river,
Where I sit a bunch,
I never have witnessed
A gull with its lunch.
That silvery fish
Was, just moments ago,
Swimming, quite unaware,
In the waters below.
Never thinking its life
Would be ending today
In the gut of a gull,
Not the pleasantest way.
In Manhattan there always
Is room for surprise
For you never know what
Will pass right by your eyes.
While in my boat upon the blue sea,
It rained nonstop for endless days,
And I missed the birdsong in my tree,
And the sunshine's warm, golden ways.
But musical rain lulled me to sleep,
When at day's end, I closed my eyes,
With frenzied rain and waves so deep;
And I dreamed of pink marmalade skies!
But all things lastly come to an end,
In due time after running its course,
And I awoke to sunshine, my old friend,
Deep golden and warmth's last resource!
Written on June 3, 2020
Splash Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
By The Light Of The Silvery Moon
Man seizes the ramble of a wayward moon,
Echoes clear its pale look melancholy tune,
It lends a trail took before of song and face,
Man ambles in the real feel of its sung grace,
Glimpse that all the creator has caused to be,
Harmony feels to express nature's beauty.
2019 September 26
*1st Place*
Any Poem You Want to Write 50 Words or Less
~~Caren Krutsinger
a silver lake
sporting loons-
singing thrush
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