Meandering meadows broken by a tossing garbling brook…strewn..rocks hewn embossing...marbling and moss flossing
Awoken whispers spoken..cantankerous coughing eddy wheezes..then a curmudgeonly icy mirror hush
Reckoning breezes yield cats' paws beckoning…teases across the flanking field
Fairies’ wield spells conveyed in lush dappled glades of plush bluebell dells
Stacked cumulus collage..shield montage cracked by dazzling azure shard mirage
Chubby clouds’ japes..conjuring cannily hung faces.. shapes...far flung places
Strife is rife..resurrection introspection survival..brings carnival of retrieval
New things...nothing can rival..primal primeval revival..Spring sings life!
Lyricism of wisteria ruses…peacocking muses gushing tomes
Classicism flocking..roams & woos homes not garden gnomes
Colourful creepers cruising..schmoozing with boisterously blushing bricks
Spring exudes mysticism..oozes oodles of bamboozling serendipity flushing
Cherished fingers rushing freely..delivers..unctuous ravishingly rambunctious
Relished slivers lavishly lingers..embellished..proudly protrudes
Inspires rhyming platitudes about gratitude...fires fresh
Attitudes across a range of altitudes & latitudes
Sprinkling wryly of vintner's drily sparkle...ends strange debacle...
Skint stints of wily skinflint winter’s splinters..with hints of now..Spring sprints
But also somehow.. if one squints..get an inkling of change..
Glints of summer's tints slyly twinkling
Blakean ghosts' boasts..frollicking in rollicking
Rolling hillock hosts..ripe shenanigans..perry toasts
Believing in hefty heaving heroes
Hallowed harbingers..halcyon hedgerows
Harbouring tranches of branches..ferry very merry berries
Majestic mosaic montage barge of balletic
Incandescent flowers..weaving wherries
Showering prophetic kaleidoscopic poetic dreams
Streams through towering mesmeric green tunnels
Full to the gunnels..reams of sheens teem..flowing funnels
Bestowing.. glowing transcendent beams gleam kinetic
Luminescent aesthetic barrage..overpowering iridescent fluorescent flowering
Every single one of Mother nature's tendrils tingle
Mingle..saluting seasonal succour..mooting rebooting from fruiting..pukka
absolute neutrality
variances appear
and all are
neutral
arising
there is none
as movement is
absent
nothing appearing
that is the
total message and
there is no message
non duality
is already a gift
for no one
a happy tale
no you
is the message
to the separate self
in disbelief
no one
may appear
as someone
walking
with
fewer words
nothing may be
suggested
the ubiquitous
I-word
always an appearance
serving the story
oops
flags a mistake
perhaps recovery
reversing a story
arising
arose
and arisen
are not three
A snipping of scissors
The hum of the trimmer
The hollow sound of an AM radio
Idyll chatter
Kids, grandkids
The weather
A quick trim of thinning hair
Melancholy moments revisited
No appointments necessary
Just walk in
Sit down
Relax
…And wait
Snippets play inside my mind.
Pieces of movies which I find
Are ingrained; cinema projected...
Dorment and then resurrected.
Sometimes, just a simple thought
Or action has the snippet caught.
Often, in a single day
They play - and sometimes on replay.
Moments big and moments small...
A century of films in all.
Silver, colour, sex and violence...
Even scenes made in their silence.
When I'm bored, I like to visit
These - I find them quite exquisite.
Shots and scenes in all their glory
From any given category.
The theatre based inside my head
Captures what's said and unsaid.
I cherish snippets because they
Can help to fill some of my day.
A gentle breeze wafting in through the window
Still, white waves lapping the seashore
The sun bidding goodbye to an iridescent sky
Leaves rustling as the zephyr kisses them
Soft snow swirling down from heaven
Stars peeping out through the darkness of night
Raindrops dripping in harmonious beat
Fluffy clouds changing shapes to impress
Songbirds belting out melodic music
Rainbows cheering us on from their lofty position
Waterfalls cascading over rocky mountains
Flowers blossoming anywhere in brilliant hues
Moonlight filtering in through the dappled shadows
Soft grass growing beneath to tickle our feet
Dewdrops decorating each blade in the dawn
Children toddling about babbling in their own language
The hot sand accepting the imprints of our feet
Stones turning to pebbles as the river rushes over them
Dandelions dancing with the puff of wind ~~
Are just a few snippets of God's everlasting wonders !!
1st April 2023
A mother’s hand holding a child
Walk of joy beaming a smile
Kids frolicking on playground
Happiness of innocent sounds
Quarrel of two loving hearts
Thunderous clouds soon pass
A glimpse, if not ephemeral,
Perhaps a rude, unwelcome stare
Reality haunting endlessly
A blemish on hope eternal
Face of grief when tears cease
Pain lingering in perpetuity
Pink sunrise gleaming eyes
Kiss of dawn blushing the skies
A cringe voicing displeasure
Truth’s way of bemoaning a liar
July 27, 2021
Placed 1st: A Brian Strand Your Choice Contest
That's all we have when you come right down to it:
little pieces of life, random moments we dare call--
memories!
But what are these fragments, these snippets of the mind?
Just sort of, kind of bright flashes in the pan lighting up
the brain, rolling into the mind willy-nilly, like freight cars
abandoned by the locomotive?
All life's experiences, both sweet and sour, remain only as
touches, wisps brushing 'gainst the soul, memories as
promise but always as promises unfulfilled, unkept....
For the only reality we have lies in the moment, every
single moment, in each breath we take: everything
before or after the moment is mere illusion, a coloring
of the lost past or a fantasy that will never be born.
Life is like a fine bespoke suit until some madman comes
by to cut it up into myriad bits and pieces we so bravely
call-- memories....
To my hometown of the sixties, I plunge in reverie,
recalling where I found myself in nineteen sixty-three.
Each fall, the biggest thing going - was going to the fair.
My town's the Sorghum Capital; cane fields still tassel there.
Talent contests, entering pageants, gave us identity.
I played piano several years; I won in sixty-three.
My embroidered pillow cases - the best of twenty-two,
the sorghum brownies I had made were chosen for the blue.
As a school project, I worked the cotton candy machine
and won a set of silverware the year I turned sixteen.
I tried out for Miss Sorghum Queen, but stumbled, it's no joke;
and later wrote that fable down - "The Fall My Zipper Broke."
Hawesville of fifty years ago defines this hometown girl.
Gracefulness found me wanting, yet God’s grace fulfills my world.
June 23, 2017
I.
Bleeding --
a world without comfort --
lost without love --
no destination...
silently walk
without touching wounds...
where is love?
II.
Frail fingers grope...
sodden afternoons...
winter fog...
through gray eternity --
cold eyes,
delicious mouth.
Found love will laugh,
desire returning.
III.
Making love,
we deceived ourselves.
Complicitors, we lied.
Compliant pawns,
we defied danger,
practiced brilliant fabrication --
but truth was stranger.
IV.
Others know desire:
ever changing years -- and lifetimes --
reaching towards the moon.
Love, be my way.
Love it Andrea Crazy eight may win the day.
I think we tap into common source.
the great unconcious, unwashed horse,
who blurts about with no recourse,
provides the words to tickles force! :) xox Don
as Johnson says, I say!
Robert Haig, yes ,
you have the thing,
great poets try to use,
to flow n flow while talking though,
do not it abuse:)
Bob D was an influence like Elvis,
upon my poor flow line,
connection do we often get,
within the winds of time?
the red red wine,
enflames of the passion,
love without love,
is shortened is,
the shortened ration,:)
xo Don...
L-M
Yes indeed we are tittilated,
in passions sweetest way,
and hubbys happy that your hot,
he must enjoy the play.
life is just a boring bit,
no cuddles for my manly wit,
catch a mount i now admit,
you could be just exhausting it:)
if you come out to play:)
thanks from
Aussie Don
I.
desert stillness shrouds
their adversary lairs
twilight's muted thunder
betrays the nearby
stealthy moon
II.
the chalky moon
creases midnight clouds
blue shades of lovers
walk a powdery sky
chortle at the other's close proximity
III.
pale gold ribbons
fiery soft skies
sea haze streaks
a thin mountain path
as day begins
IV.
kitchen pans, pity, pungent cheese
and garden lace -- the matriarch
dripping decay with
her mild gentility
V.
winter snow, ice
slow spring melt
rain-drowned torrent
ocean bound flow
placid river drift
debris of desire
VI.
drifting memories of lakes
water lapping against land
heartbeats floating on the breeze
the water reflects your face
look away
snippets of light
converged
upon
the
face of the
pink ash rose
through
the
sacred night
but
give us this day
orange
snippets of light
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.