You in rain get wet,
I’m soaked to skin by beauty--
Yours, just looking at
And marvel at scene I see--
How rain makes you so pretty.
_____________________
Tanka (Senryu + couplet) | 14.08.2025 | rain, beauty
Her soil, soaked in blood,
sought to stymie fertile seeds;
but justice stilled bloomed:-
Love’s rainy season,
Has left me wet and soaking—
Buoyed in God’s grace:-
Today's rain is more of a doom,
But why not just spare my own room?
You just poured in without a shame
So, who will then take this your blame?
Tho', where I live is a jungle,
My life needs not be this bungled,
Because this flood was just a lot,
This is not just based on my thought.
Its' anger was unleashed too pure,
Though, not only to us, the poor,
Those at Lekki bought their own shares,
Their riches brought them their scares.
Tho' pained, but not by my soaked book,
But by the food I was to cook,
They were all soaked by this mean crook,
That turned my room to a deep brook.
My hunger cried, as the rain poured,
Everything swam, as the sky mourned,
Hunger came, as salary cried,
Debts begged, as the month-end sighed.
I sit under my crape myrtle tree
in full bloom of white
feeling the cool breeze from the rain
a couple of miles away
I've no particular thoughts about being a miner of
so I'll let my thoughts wander
and watch the clouds rush by
heading Northwest to an unknown destination
while Bluejays play tag in the limbs
and Igrets dig for food in the soil of my yard
seeming not to care that I'm here
I'll spend a few hours in this shade
relax and listen to thoughts that drift away
with the bird songs soaking in Nature,
finding peace, with no thoughts of tomorrow
nor seeking memories to dwell on
only the serenity that comes from a pristine
calmness of the mind
An epiphany dawned on us today,
refining further our void-centric view,
to anoint love on all forms every day,
that soul’s innate vibrancy may renew,
with love always claiming the right of way,
aura glistening like fresh morning dew.
Love soaked vermilion, in joy we implant
on all who we meet, to straighten soul’s slant.
Soaked in Grace
By Mark D. Stucky
When partaking of communion,
“intinction” is the practice
of dipping the bit of bread
into a common cup.
The bottom of the bread
becomes soaked in wine,
and the bread and wine,
entwined, without separation,
are consumed together as one.
We’re usually unaware,
but God’s grace surrounds us.
No separation exists
between us and grace.
God soaks our lives in grace
and asks us to partake.
(First published in Earth & Altar, 23 Feb. 2023. See also my poems “God Around the Corner” and “Soul Fingerprints.”)
(Image by Debby Hudson on Unsplash.com.)
The Knight was knit on a knockout night.
A batch of bare bears within blissful sight.
Right rowed rode on rigorous royal insight.
Whither or wither, writ warned of a worn write.
Douse the drip and dowse to drum up dew.
Alas allowed the altar rite to alter aloud knew.
Wax warmer upon waves of aqua blue.
Caught in the caudle caudal circuit of one or two.
Halting hair like an idol, idle as a hush hare.
Hearsay's hollows handle heinous and flare.
Can a sane person seine in a water glare?
I fear that a note knob rejects the nob affair.
Leaches of joy leech open or open-free.
I will not feign the fane's favor as a feint fee.
Dazes detained the deal to droop a drupe as a flea.
If a blast blows a blue home, it finds a way to flee.
Written: October 09, 2022
Homophone Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Hat Bueckert
sun-soaked sunflowers flourish, fresh-faced and freckled
with seeds. On stilt-stems, their flourishing legs, and on
tippy-toes, like toddlers, do reach for the stove-hot sun.
Cherubs with innocent countenance, happy in their home.
9/29/2022
Strawberry soaked wishes, whipped cream;
Lovestruck faces share a sweet bite,
those sticky fingers taste just right;
Under the soft moonlight they beam,
caught inside love's fanciful scheme;
Puckered lips shining in the night,
strawberry soaked;
Wistful desire rushes bloodstreams
bleeding through saucer eyes so bright;
In the wildness of this campsite
sugary romance dips the scene;
Strawberry soaked.
Hurrying up to meet the day
Like the working fellows In a busy Wednesday
Trying to forget the tears of the midnight
Pains of the previous dry
Aches of the face that screams help
Emotions confused to the brim
Climax fear and total depression
While the coverings of parents fail
Yet 25 to start all alone
How do I begin!
Soaked in worries
Smiling at colleagues just to move on
But do you move when you are dragged!
Hearing greener pastures from heads
While yours is a dead end
Do you feel over joyed for them,
Soaked in my problems
The day ends in 15% cheer
Taking the bus back to the 85% laments
Will this night not tear me a million times!
Soaked through all storm.
You think that she’d have learned by now, to hide it
But no, and those around her must abide it
Sometimes, we'd like to knock her off her fanny
‘Cause we all know, she’s just a Gin Soaked Granny
She stumbles in out and out of bed all morning
and never will she heed our sober warning
before she drinks, she’d better read that label
the bottle she left somewhere on a table
For Gin Soaked Grannies always need their glasses
and sometimes they forget with time that passes
that yesterday, the rats she killed with liquor
should she drink, would only make her sicker
It rained
Before I could believe
Drops soaked me so
I forgot the smell of earth!
Life, you are burdened!
With this unearthly pain and fear
So much so
I forgot, almost forgot
The smell of rain soaked earth!
Give me a bit of sunshine
a bit more rain drops!
Oh! GOD
Crossing the lifted edge of night
I soak sunburst sky with delight
at daybreak.
I’ll take long journey belated
through wasteland gloom, so I waited
for daytime.
Go miles before dusk depressive,
while sun shines, for I’m obsessive
daytripper.
On ripples of reverie’s wake
I’ll sail in joy, won’t let time break
my daydream.
Before I sink in night’s dark stream,
my journey will end in the gleam
of daylight.
May 9, 2020
Syllable count : 8/8/3
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Rhyme checked on rhymezone.com
Contest : Compounding The Verse
Sponsor : Joseph May
One Hundred And Fifty Eskimos.
.
A hundred and fifty Eskimos in town
It’s freezing cold and throwing it down
Hands in pockets heads down to the ground
The cars rush by with a slushing sound
.
The river is flowing a mucky brown
The tide is high
As trillions of tears
Fall from the sky
.
Oh boy
I’m getting wet through
And I’ve got so much shopping to do
While the Eskimos gather supplies
I’m wiping raindrops from my eyes
.
Little ponds grown
With ripples the naughty wind has blown
Get your Khak’s ready
And your wet suit
And your wader boots
.
It’s Friday it’s five to five
I’m so thankful
I’m still alive.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
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