Swished Poems | Examples

The breeze

The gentle breeze 

Though you’ve swished past me
I am still hearing your soothing words
It was not that of love or affection
But that of understanding and meaning.

Though I could neither see or hear you anymore
I know that the feeling of warmth that you wrapped me in 
And the confidence that had bloomed in me.

Though days have passed since I felt the warmth
And I know that you moved away with the cloud
I am forever thankful that you had been 
The gentle breeze for my
Hurt and painful heart!
The wound might scar 
But only to remind of the soothing, warm and 
Gentle breeze!

As the Rain Came

As dark clouds dashed and clashed in the sky
Thunder began to boom and rumble
Sensing an impending rain, frogs started croaking
Cows stopped cuddling and began to moo

Soon pitter- pat came down the raindrops.
landed on roof tops with a heavy thud
they broke and cracked into tiny droplets
gurgled and gushed through canals and drains.
And joined the brooks that babbled, 
merging with waterfalls that whooshed.

Along with the rain, came the roaring wind
as it passed, the bells clanged
windchimes whispered, wires on poles whistled
doors slammed shut and windows creaked
grasses swished and leaves rustled.
Birds fell silent and stopped tweeting

When the pouring rain came to a sudden halt,
The rattle was over with everything falling silent.

On Route

When Whitetails are roadkill
someone must hurry
(I presume they hurry),
to pull the carcass off the blacktop.

A dead deer makes quite the road bump.
It's a sobering thought
as I head along the freeway
one late, and teeming night.

The details of sudden death
are so quickly obscured,
blood swiftly swished away
by the hosing storm.

Is there a wreck in a ditch,
shredded rubber, broken class -
all the diverse debris
of a head-long convergence?

You presume human remains
remain somewhere,
one just has to conjecture the best
of the outright worst.

Behind your rearview mind
the unknown
is still rushing to clean up
all your messy assumptions.

Even so,
carrion crows still hang
from your thoughts.

what if a cobra swishes out of a sink

I have a large print Webster’s dictionary on my desk.
I flip through it and write down words that interest me.
Then I decide what kind of poem I am in the mood to write.
If I want an alliterative poem I choose lots of words in the same section.
dictionary, dictated, diaphragm, diagnosis, diabolical

If I feel like an acrostic poem, I make sure I am spelling the word right.
Acrostic poems do not do well if the initial word is misspelled.
Sometimes I wake up, look at the sink in the bathroom and think
What if a miniature alien crawled out of that drain?
What if a cobra swished out and bit me while I was brushing my teeth?

My imagination loves playing this kind of game.
What if the refrigerator came to life?
What if an opossum crawled out of the toaster?
What would I do? What would I say?
Would the opossum be able to talk? Would it be pink?

My muse Trixie likes playing with these kinds of ideas.
She throws things at me during the day and during my dream state.
I often wake up with an idea for a poem.
Unfortunately, that idea usually peters out and dies before breakfast.
I have probably lost as many ideas as I have ever had.

Memoirs of a Ballerina

             
The tempoed, palpitations of my tender, young girl’s heart.
As the velvet, thick stage curtains swished opened and did part.

The pin-drop stillness as we took our graceful, poised posititions.
Dance, of course, our first love and our life’s grand ambition.

Bejewlled heads, so gracefully bowed to the shining, wooden floor,
Fuschia ballet shoes, pointed with grace at our families and  the auditorium’s  wecoming door.

Debussy’s haunting music began, “ The Afternoon of a Fawn”~ 
We rose with grace and whirled with applause, warm as August’s loving sun. 

                              1/10/2024

Three Mice On a Pumpkin

Three mice on a pumpkin getting the view.
I wish there were seven, said the little one, Lou.
Three is not enough, agreed the loudest one, Goo.
A ghost swished by in the wind, but forgot to boo.

What is wrong with him? Asked Lou and Good.
He must be stuck up said the pumpkin who grew.
The ghost gave them a nod and said “hello you two!”
Can’t he count? Asked the persnickety one named Goo.

She Wants To Be a Cat

A tiny bit of surgery will turn you into a cat
I loved the idea, and told my cousin, Rat.
He rolled his eyes saying it would be dumb to do.
What does he know? He is a mere baby, only forty-two.

He has not had my life, he does not meow like me.
Has no knowledge of growling as I could easily see.
I am seventy-one, and I wish I had done it sooner.
I began turning into a cat under the moon they called Lunar.

My ears perked up first, all pointy and pretty.
I developed a taste of kibble, and my words were witty.
I kept to myself and swished around my new tail.
The best part of all? No one sends a cat mail.

The Rubenesque Mermaid

She is so corpulent! She is so oversized. She is so Rubenesque.
Eleanor felt strongly they meant her, and she loved it; it was for the best.
She had worked a long time to reach her present girth and statuesque.
In the land of the deep sea, being large was an asset, she could attest.

She swished her tail and showed off all of her sides, so firm and fair.
Of course, the water shook out her gorgeous locks of whitish hair.
She knew sailors would stare a her because she was all that and more.
Confidence, self-love and self-assurance firmly in place, in dear Eleanor.

Felt Like a Bug

I was drifting off to dreamland, so my senses were deadened a bit
When a piper full of magic entered the forest for a tiny sit.
He took out a flute and began enticing flying things to come by.
Glistening, gleaming and sparkling, I opened my eyes with a sigh.

They were faeries, pixies, flying miniatures, sweet little creatures.
I noticed them vanish, disappear, dissolve, like Saturday movie features.
For they had seen me, when I had opened my eyes to see them.
A malevolent inky look came from the piper now; his eyes slim.

Lanky and lean, he looked at me as if I were corpulent and foul.
Taking a hint, I creeped off, because I am an empathetic gal.
I have no idea if the pixies and faeries came back to the piper.
But I felt like a bug swished off in a car’s window swiper.

The Clouds And The Volcano

"You are so lovely," said the clouds to the volcano.

  "Thank you," the volcano acknowledging clouds' greeting.

  "All the people are looking at you each day and taking pictures, videos of you!" swished the clouds.

  "I don't feel captivating all the time.  I am often sad because I'm the only one standing here alone," the volcano responded.

  "I praise you for your simplicity," said the clouds.

  The volcano said, "I am more delighted by your creation."

  "Why?" asked the clouds.

  "Because you are free!" puffed the volcano.

  "You're right.  I always move around, encircling the world... but I want to try staying in one place, to know how it feels like being on the ground like you!"

  "You may not like it," said the volcano.  "Though I'm still grateful for being so alive everyday.  People perceived us that we will always be the same -- who we are and what we are.  Even if we swap positions, it is up to us how we look at ourselves..."

  "Now, I realized why we are both blessed," said the clouds.

  "Yes.  And the people are our spectators who are more blessed for seeing us and having us."

Microbe the Master Magician

Microbe the Master Magician had a lot to say
He swished his cape in an all-knowing way
Deep inside his role, he did not laugh or play
Taking his costume seriously on Halloween day

Want to visit grandma down at the San Francisco Bay?
No thanks he said, she would not know me, Uncle Ray.
What about trick-or-treating, what do you say?
Of course Mommy. This is why I am dressed this way!

She Sensed Him Before He Arrived

With a spiral staff and a wizard’s hat, the creature entered her habitat.
Sensing presence before he'd gone far, she transmogrified into a scar.
Placed herself on her familiar, a mystical magical, yellow tabby cat.
Candles were lit; he wondered why she had left her cottage like that.

A powerful magic he brought into this eerie, creepy Halloween night.
A few mice scampered quickly down shelves and out of sight.
Had the witch hanged into a rat? He said a spell and swirled his hat.
Scar was silent, but he was hissed at with feeling by the witch’s cat.

Maybe a cat, he thought, and he gave his wand a swirl.
The cat’s whiskers changed rapidly, turned into a magnificent curl.
If he had hit the scar, she would have been revealed, and in danger.
But he missed. She appealed to her spells before he could change her.

He had changed her once, but not this time. She was smarter now.
She filled the room with smoke and gave her spell books a “wow!”
Then she swished her own wand and he disappeared out of sight.
Witch bests warlock reported the Halloween Express that night.

A Jolly Fisherman

Driven by a growing angling fad
The jolly fisherman took a fishing rod
And walked onto the nearby stream
As the sun rose from the mountain seam

He had in mind the swimming Trout
With rising hope and speeding steps, he set out
Sat on a rock and swished the rod in the air
With the quickness of a practiced bowler

Looking at the line sinking low, waited quiet
Hoping to see the fish nibbling at the bait
Inhaling the fresh morning air, he sat
His head well protected with a frilled hat

As the hook line went taut in his grip
With rising hope, he pulled it up
But alas! With no booty to boast
And no fish at the hook to fry or roast

Uncomplaining, he sat like a statue on the rock
For hours, never allowing his heart to break
He waited all day till the sun went down
And at last with a smile, walked down to his town

_______________________________


August.19. 2022

A Jolly Fisherman Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Julia Ward

Train Ride

Clickity clack, clickity clack
the sound keeps coming back
I remember the ride,
had time to bide,
	as the train clattered along.

We swished and swirled further beyond
the burbling golden pond
than I had ever been,
affirmed my grin,
	as the train whizzed gaily along.

I remember the zip and zap,
then the sharp, sudden snap,
my head against the seat
and the fierce heat
	as the train swiftly zoomed along.

I remember the sudden smash,
the sound of booming crash,
dreadful growling rail wheels,
turned on their heels
	as the train shrieked and screeched along!

Cat Does Not Like the New Baby

Smug Cat was excited to be alone in her hot human's house.
She could hear whatever she needed to hear, including a mouse.
There was a gentle rain outside, which made her happier yet.
She was the luckiest non-human today the most joyful pet!

She commandeered the house, it was hers to do as she wished.
Heard some wipers outside, they made melodies as they swished.
Her eyes began to close, and she relaxed onto her queenly bed.
She had not had this kind of relaxation since the announcement was read.

It is a boy! Hooray! Hooray! A baby boy born today!
She did not like this new kid, he always got in her way.
He got served first, and his milk looked better.
He was always snuggling into mommy’s sweater.

A car door slammed. They were back!
She was now again on the “look at this cute baby” track!

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