wily wizened lady of the oak has October ways
Stop if you must, but do not eat her craze.
Her pumpkin peach pies will put you into a daze.
Sounds perfect! Said my ghostly cousin Sir Haze.
He got the recipe, but could never make it her ways.
I think she left out ingredients said my Grandma Mays.
We should know, because she does it to others said Auntie Maize.
wonderful wizened lady of the oak has October ways.
Categories:
wizened, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Monorhyme
Recognizing life's fields need steady crop rotation
Each of their grains harvested requires separatization
Safely stored in silos of compartmentalization
Red lights flash consistently on the horizon
Emptiness found in the words comprising
Tomorrow is another day or so, I'm surmising
Perhaps one morning, I'll wake up more wizened
Categories:
wizened, sad,
Form: Free verse
keep old frail weak trees
for scars knurls holes and wrinkles
birds and bees call home
Categories:
wizened, tree,
Form: Haiku
what planet could this be for boys of ten
and then one hundred
movement felt,
looking at the hardened grain
of hands caressed
with fingers pressed against themselves
absorbing stillness’ breath
suspended in each air a pair
of warm yet liquid-frozen thoughts
captured
then released with care
youthful power to devour light
whose distance now
becomes serene
a slow suspended scene
in the moment captured
stretched like bubble gum or taffy
compressed
into the thinness of a dime
time
rolled between the fingers
ridged and perfect soft
wrapped
as cigarettes unsmoked,
moving miniature rolling pins
of skin like bread
gathered sweet
and then,
a fence to sit upon, a wall to scale
grains of surfaced roughness
where the smooth compare
the toughness of their skin
to skin a shin
upon a polished youth
with broken glass of bottles blowing
tins and rolls all gathered in
their stripes and plaids
and paisleys worn -
attempts to humanize
collateralized machine
we all want out, sometimes,
we all want in.
Categories:
wizened, 9th grade, age, education,
Form: Free verse
Every tree has its sprite,
a living deity ever vigilant of its needs.
Great Yggdrasil
ancient tree of life
holds her sprite within
her wending, winding arms;
a caress of gratitude
for its warrior guardian.
An ancient sentinel
guarding the wisdom
of Gaia’s mind,
needs a soldier;
this recruit, at the ready,
studies “The Art Of War”
with considerable vigilance.
No axe will ever release this tree
from Mother Gaia.
6-3-2021
ALL YOURS (JUN 4) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Categories:
wizened, myth, mythology, nature, poems,
Form: Free verse
Wizened leaves on windswept trees
Autumn comes to call,
In crimson hues and umber shades
Their time is nigh to fall,
Before then though the glory
Of autumn in her splendour,
A flourish of true beauty
'Fore arrives a bleak November
Entry for
Fall Into Fall Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
16/9/2019
Categories:
wizened, autumn, beauty, change,
Form: Rhyme
A splendiferous sun slowly rises
into a pale periwinkle blue sky.
And at first light, dangling dewdrops glisten
like crystalline tears, only time can dry.
Sol's heat stimulates a welcoming breeze,
scented by Nature's exotic perfume.
And, as temperatures begin to climb,
budding roses bloom into full costume.
Backyard cooks start barbequing burgers
as campers pitch tents near a lake or bay.
And calm cerulean waves lap the shores,
inviting children to jump in and play.
The ubiquitous mosquito might bite,
but most insect repellants work just fine.
Summertime encourages laziness;
so lay back and bask in the warm sunshine.
Picture Summer as Spring's wizened sister;
a devotee of sensual delights.
The mistress of hot, humid, hazy days;
and phantasmagorical starry nights.
Categories:
wizened, 10th grade, 9th grade,
Form: Quatrain
Over the years, I have wizened
as a writer and poet - now I pen
easily and can elicit the emotions needed for any poem.
Yes, there are days when the muse is shackled,
but in time is set free- so I hold my black cartridge pen,
ready to drip my words . . .
Some come to loiter and pause over my poetry,
I don't expect a horde or screaming throng to visit.
But, I am happy with some delightful commenting.
I love the visits but please don't trifle,
don't be "mordacious" with your words . . .
________________________
March 25, 2017
Verse/A "Wizened" Poet
Copyright Protected, ID 887355
Written for the contest, Eight Word Challenge
sponsor, John Hamilton
Third Place
Categories:
wizened, poetry, writing,
Form: Verse
Sarcastic words spewed forth. Such vile mordacious sayings,
Always arguing and scoffing in the square where she'd loiter
Ridiculing the gathered horde for their time spent in praying
Casting her leers and jeers to elicit their contempt in return
Anger had shackled her mind and body, wizened with age.
She sneered but no one heeded the horrid curses and the
Trifle mutterings from this sputtering unbeliever in a rage.
I heard the venom she fired, exploding like an overloaded
Cartridge shell. Deluded woman... on and on she goaded.
March 24, 2017
Eight word challenge
of John Hamilton
Words: mordacious-loiter-horde
elicit-shackled-wizened-trifle-cartridge
Categories:
wizened, conflict, humanity,
Form: Acrostic
Honey For The Rose Says A Wizened Sage
I fancy a moment of quietest delight
nothing great, just deeply silent bliss
times like this, my mind takes flight
Day breaks with the softest little glow
crack of dawn I often so dearly miss
the lady that put on last night's show
Pausing next to reflect, life slaps me
why do you so often fail to see this
the kinder, softer man you should be
I reply, spare me the moral outrage
yes, I once stole many a sweet kiss
honey for the rose says a wizened sage
I fancy a moment of quietest delight
nothing great, just deeply silent bliss
times like this, my mind takes flight
Robert J. Lindley. 04-12-2015
Categories:
wizened, character, creation, deep, feelings,
Form: Rhyme