He
nourished
my soul with
his promises,
and like a rosebud,
I thirsted for the rain
of beautiful vows that fell
from luscious lips I loved to kiss.
His very presence lit up my world,
and for a while, I thrived in his garden.
Suddenly the sunshine sustaining me
became endless days of dreary gray.
I’m wilting here now, knowing that
nothing he’d told me was true.
A bee, he sweetly sees
new blooms as I die,
petals plucked. He
loves me; he
loves me
not.
No shadow paused to rest beside my lonely frame,
Yet now a circle forms around—silent, yet aflame.
Gifts I knew not—my days passed like muted sighs,
But now a cascade of petals crowns my skies.
I thirsted once for just one caring hand to hold—
Yet now, shoulders lean like silent oaks enfold.
None walked but footsteps few along life’s fickle trail,
But now a caravan blooms—grief’s survivors sail.
Only today did death unveil her tragic grace:
All my life I merely drifted—missing heaven’s face.
Crack! I lay, beneath me creaking
Hath it taken from me? What to give?
Mayhaps yesternight another seeking
For not many there is to live
It approaches, shaking, floors creaking
To thee I will never forgive
The black, slender arms reach
It thrashes! THRASHES, thrash–
Follicles, it pulls, off me, I screech
With many a fang, I faintly see a gnash
Holding me, gripping such as a leech
Of my being, will you bash?
Desires faintly protruded, of a glare
I wanted to feel an embrace so warm
Instead, I long, gasping for air
Of my strangled state, you aware of enorm
Thirsted for love, endearment not there
Just us, our state one described deform
Despite conditions, not a sound shall hang
As I know we are bound to meet again
Bound, bound beneath thee embrace and fang
Thy body, slim and slime, gets off now then
You’ll return, but you go with a bang
As I am left to wonder when
Light shimmered on the lake at moonrise,
with a breathtaking view that glimmered.
Beneath the glow of Luna's pale luminance,
the night was calm on the banks of the firth
except for the cooing of a lonesome dove,
who thirsted like me, yearning to be loved.
September 10, 2022
Bitesize Poem No52 Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Trapped, he thirsted for water
But he was doomed for slaughter
Felt his life force fade
His lifeless body laid
There thinking he was a marauder
Whatever mix of proteins poured
With that inoculation draught
Drunk by my vein, not thirsted for,
But sipped in the subtle rhythms
Of pulse beat, of embodiment,
Moulds to the clay that forms myself,
I know only shameful nothing,
And in my unproud ignorance
Is only a child’s solemn trust
In all that must be, for all good.
The earth gave up its secrets,
you were gone with the morning's dew,
covering all that thirsted for a sip.
The soil turned into a softness,
dark, warm and tightly contained,
a drop of dew's left on your lovely lips.
When the moon shines tonight,
I will walk beneath its light,
determined by my quest.
Lovely are the stems,
clutched beneath my fist,
white lilies for your chest.
A drink is what they crave,
the sun spoils it all,
a tree provides some shade.
I visit you often,
waiting for the day,
when my beds made with a spade.
No one could ever know,
the depth of love that grows,
beneath the darkness of night.
Shadows fall each day,
behind my broken heart,
as I wait for the next moonlight.
In black I cry,
the moon lights my way,
my steps are weary at best.
My tears quench a thirst,
for the lovely lilies I have picked,
to lay upon your chest.
Long did Odin recline
nursed by the long slain.
Long had he relied for news
from his two ravens,
from a world he still thirsted after
and long did love.
His one eye itched
for their long expected return.
Muninn
(known in the old tongue,
as Odin’s Memory),
at last appeared.
The birds sable feathers
were now ghost-grey.
It stumbled in its speech
as it spoke of
what it had seen of the world.
Long were its strange tales,
long were the gaps in its telling
until Odin could not piece together
the recalled from the unrecalled.
In time his second great raven
Huginn (Odin’s thoughts),
entered his awareness
together with its dark ponderings.
Its dire re-telling's
they smote Odin with such force
that he gasped
in a toothless gawp of horror.
He called for his nurse, alas
no nurse was to be found,
he was adrift
upon the long night.
Dawn found his caregivers
searching high, seeking low.
yet only the long discarded bones
of ancient ravens littered his abode.
It was a night of whispered words of love.
His voice caressed me like a romantic song
in the rich tones of an erotic melody
that made me tremble at his gentle touch.
I shall never forget that magical night...
Our eyes bright with moonbeams and love.
Hand in hand, we sat on my back porch.
I inhaled his scent as our lips met
Bodies close; a single shadow in the moonlight
Love's flames had been kindled
Witnessed by a myriad of dancing stars above
I thirsted for his kisses as flowers seek the dew
He awakened all my sleeping senses
when he brushed aside my tears of pleasure.
This boy, whose glances dispelled my fears,
appears in my dreams as a sweet memory
that comes unbidden to make my heart quicken.
First love holds a special place in my heart.
I can still feel my cheeks blush
when I remember the warmth of his touch.
On full moon nights, when stars are aglitter,
a secret smile plays across my lips.
September 25, 2021
A Lovely Memory Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
A rover you were, all your working life,
But your conscience caught up with you,
You chose honourable re-tyre-ment and
You're now green through and through.
Once you greedily thirsted for petrol,
But finally kicked the habit,
And you now partake of fresh country air,
Just as rural as any wild rabbit.
In the past your throaty engine's roar
Out-decibeled the traffic's bustle,
But you now much prefer to listen to
The dry, restless leaves which rustle.
Alas your coachwork no longer gleams,
But you still retain all of your pride,
It's just your wish to be at one with nature,
As everything else you've tried.
A frosty morning is no deterrent,
To a well-seasoned convert like you,
It's just an unavoidable prelude,
To the sparkling spring-time dew.
Your days of road rage long since gone,
When you used to speed and scramble,
You're now content to pull to one side,
And be overtaken ... by a bramble.
All week, three-digit temperatures have clung
to afternoons which thirsted for relief.
I woke today; a dab of dampness hung
in morning's atmosphere, and like a thief,
it's waited out the day until the sun
dipped out of view, and now the sky's turned grey
and blowing of a whipping wind's begun!
I go outside and watch the tree limbs sway.
Some droplets touch my skin, and I suppose
it soon will rain. The breeze refreshes me.
I go back in my house and I compose
this poem, but looking out again, I see
the sun peek through the clouds as if to mock.
In hot still air, two birds fly past and squawk!
Aug. 7, 2020
For Brenda Chiri's Nature Rhyming Poetry Contest
`
Exhaled sonnets call torrid on the eve
Breaths a lofty soar, luring thirsted sighs
Moistened drizzled flesh, sunset’s searing weave
Motions play beneath tropic amber skies
Lips of dampened dreams, meeting by the shore
Moonbeams touch your face, eyes of heaven’s glow
Whispers echo soft, melting ever pure
Fingers tracing curves, passions endless flow
Lulled as blushing waves drench our longing skin
Stardust wishes cast, lingering above
Promised minutes sing, harmonies begin
As we lie alone, deep within our love
Moans collect the wind, endings come to meet
Lost within the tide, summer’s sultry heat
6/9/20
For the Summers Heat Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Softly savoring the summer moon
she set aside her needle work.
to bask in the evening’s quiet murmur.
The stitches carelessly tossed aside
for a maidenly moment of fantasy’s madness.
The endless tapestry had drained her of her diligence.
Her tired fingers thirsted for finer threads.
The draw of dreams of soft beds and velvet slippers
flowed through her, softening her calloused fingers.
The light mist of the evening lulled her.
A soft blush lay upon her cheeks.
With well-chosen words he called her to come closer.
Behind his dark eyes lay labyrinths filled with passion.
These treasures revealed swept through her soul with a fire.
All that could still be called out to lure her to his lair.
Weighing the balance; endless stitching or unending light.
She set her needle work upon the shelf
And stepped out toward the stars.
i stacked sandbags against the
river of your fervent woe hoping
you would stay safe and dry-
but when the tide crashed, you crashed,
and i am having a hard time letting go;
for you are the one who i wished
loved me most…
now i am utterly in love with your
cradlesong ghost
feeding love to you as you starved,
hungered and thirsted for redemption,
the kind only the Lord can bestow-
i tried hard
(too hard)
to make you believe i am the only one who
can hold you when winter frost lingers,
soft white snow sadly whispers solitude,
for you slipped right out of my
sonorous fingers
touching antipathy,
fearing what can never be known
has become my familiar habit-
you need forgiveness
and
i need-
you
as i walk toward your grave
i feel the love you did crave;
goodbye, beloved-
you were gentle and brave
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
12.2.19
Your Best New Poem Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet
You startled me, like a pin prick to my heart-
forever leaving me breathless for your starvation.
I craved your tender touch right from the start
and thirsted for your deep purple longing sensation.
I fear not the kismet we carry, but you betraying,
I dread not what we share, but you not staying.
For you are the reason for my God-given creation-
and I’m infatuated with the love you’re portraying.
Purple2 Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Kevin Shaw
January 25, 2019
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