Spectral Poems - Poems about Spectral

In love and in you, lunar wings fade like spectral silver gliding gently, In the dark abyss of an obsidian sky, refracting dreams of a lost realm, Sliding and undulating through opalescent glass, like a window hiding truths, Sprinkled with pearl dust on your hidden face, between curved lines and lips of longing. Like Selene floating on red waves...

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Where do the colors we see arise? Not from sun’s bright, light guise, But from its white, split and spun, Through raindrop prisms, one by one. A spectrum forged in falling rain, That spills color on Earth's domain. Red blazes in autumn’s gaze, In maple leaf fire and embers haze. It's rouge in a rose’s velvet flare, Smeared on dusk and dawn with flair. Orange...

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Cloaked in a fitting grey suit and bow tie, She floats like paper kites across meadows. From a hollow in a tree, her eyes pry~ Her loud hoot startles nearby sleeping crows. The spectral owl, with her faint, surprised look, Watches as the crows flee into the dark. Then silence reigns, curbed only by a brook, And chirps of birds in the...

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In the chill of night, when shadows dance and sway, A tale of Halloween, I'm bound to convey. A story woven from the threads of scare, Beware the whispers in the haunted air. In a quaint old town, where cobwebs hung, Where eldritch secrets from the rafters clung, The people gathered, dressed in fright, To celebrate...

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dew crafts crown on grass gold flakes fall with leaves fire furrow paves garden path gilded trees adorn autumn’s spectral splendor ...

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Written: April 4th, 2024 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Behold, arrays of dreamy dryads, With lacy halos of azure and amethyst dyads Their ethereal presence, a sight to admire, As they dance and sway, akin to celestial fire. Their beauty, a tapestry of nature's...

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In the crepuscular embrace, where day and night entwine, Dances a spectral ballet, in a twilight so divine. Shadows caress the amber light, where contrasts boldly play, An ephemeral bridge suspended, between the night and day. A gentle breeze whispers tales, through the boughs with ease, Leaves rustle with soft retorts, a symphony amongst the trees. Birds etch their silhouette, against...

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Down the winding road of life, My spirit leads the way. On a course, I know not where, Yet I'm grateful for the day. I stop to look upon the past, Then forge a path ahead. Each step brings me closer still, To a fate I cannot shed. In the distance I see a light And a voice calls out to me. Stating that the...

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Our Bed and Breakfast was the Presidents’ House, An antebellum Italianate with a rich historical past With nourishing breakfasts of presidential repast Served by a suitably attired raconteur, my spouse. Our home was known for its welcoming spirits merry We met and interacted with them over the years, Some got to meet our guests if they showed no fears Prominent from the...

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Monsoon, the tricky magician has drawn A spectral stripe ,high from left to right The sly violet slackens to turn into red, The weary sun has travelled since dawn Yet glows yond on the horizon to infuse Lively spirit in the drab day , almost gone, And smiles hopefully promising to return; Abracadabra :...

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May Unitarian Universalists sustain active faith in Both/And integral feelings/thoughts co-gravitating intentions, nuanced principles of UniversalTruth greets UnitarianBeauty. In these ways, in this public health emergency climatic time, may we join with good faith multiculturing healthy democratic Others Less invested in partisan elite-insider knowledge and also not feeding and watering non-elite Outsider fear and anger of sensory-sexual sanity necessary for building and retaining a healthy cooperative wealthy democracy And may...

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Sonnet 90, Spectral Rising (Shakespearean) As the last dead leaf falls from a tall tree, spiraling into piles upon the sleigh; the sun drops into the furious sea; time for the winter and darkness to play. In a blasphemous act of regaling Reach from the cold earth resting in your grave; To the hate and lies forever-failing. Recapturing the breath your mother gave. A...

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We called our Bed and Breakfast the Presidents’ House A sprawling antebellum Italianate with a rich historical past Fed our guests tasty nourishing breakfasts of presidential repast Served by an eighteenth century-adorned raconteur, my spouse. Our guest house was known for its spectral residents merry Many we met, got to know, and interacted with over...

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The cleansing auras Burst with prisms of color With spectral rainbows...

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revealed obligatory phrases turn out of tone a deafening roar cascades in to the abyss purging spectral visions barred from presenting all in the name of truth yet never to behold perspective lends credence but believed not so easy to ride the train when it leaves the station side tracking onto no where takes guts of steel girders not withstanding the hastened presence...

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