Through haunting steps was I lured here
By a melody faint but clear
To this glen where fancy drifted
By the rays my sight was gifted
Peering through a portal twixt
Fae and mortal realm are mixed
With heavy eyelids did I trace
Beyond a doorway fairy laced
A land that to a sleeper seeming
Would only appear to one who's dreaming
So with a nodding head did I
Accept an invitation devised
To set aside these earthly ways
And wonts belonging to the day
For a realm where sprites aplenty
Weave a spell soaked litany
They prance and dance for my surprise
To these misty mortal eyes
And caper on until a time
For fairy bells to warning chime
The dawning of lights soon arrival
To Herald the end of dreams survival
Now all the fae folk gathered hence
Did ask a further moment whence
To linger this side of the gate
And escape their morning fate
They beckon to this dreamers eyes
And plead that for one moment more
Deny the truth which soundless lies
Beyond the bounds of dreamings door
Au Natural, our first birthday suits
soon obscured by zip-up rompers and baby boots
Baby’s not embarrassed by her appearance
insecure parents run interference
Next up, movement-control
baby must not dance to rock-‘n-roll
‘Grown-ups’ crush baby’s curiosity
‘No-ing’ all instincts exploratory...
Forever unchain inquisitive wonts
~ Viva la au natural renaissance
Entry in 'Our Natural State' contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Date: Jan. 14, 2025
Gershon Wolf
Oh, damned February,
As you breathe your last
Exhale in farewell iciness
Cold crystals fading gasp.
Thus, is your fate in Northeast climes
A fickle season’s whims and wonts
Harsh winter backing slow away
retreats before springs warming taunts.
Subtle hints of flowing sap
Bid farewell to your fading bluster
And lo, within the frosty mud
Snow touched Jonquils boldly cluster.
So, pack your bags but rest assured
Your next year stay has been reserved.
John G. Lawless
©2/28/2023
A striking canvass of the night sky.
Wept as the moon shone brightly.
The mistiness provides a sense of calm.
An upheaval arose amid the silence.
Smooth orbs droop toward us.
Such a fight about shiny wonts.
Overshadowing the area of view.
This brief pause was quickly ended.
As the moon and stars fade.
Night softens the shadows.
Sweet loving states glow zealously.
Tonight the darlings emerge.
Filling hearts with unwavering trust.
This evening, a higher smile.
Reminds us to trust affection.
1St PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: March 30, 2022
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
A BRIAN STRAND STANDARD Poetry Contest
Always salty and usually bitter
help encourage the spitter —
still better than the wonts
and those dreaded donts —
saved by the tolerable quitter.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Written: 05.08.21
Contest: Quitters Never Win
Sponsor: Margarita Lillico
Murdead Whales... Come, Viles, to roo'n mankind;
Messied Wonts and Voors, cling to grassied side-be-side;
Mersey's waves in vastest willeddest Summertime,
Merdrer's muggying Wives, jogst very lost in weedsy trashline.
The rushing wonts of action render these happenings unmovable,
These feelings, passionately felt, to dull words ill and strained
She clings, my koala, with chocolate eyes pining for my green
Though each time she lets me go, she leaves me docile and pained
Once before I claimed her; yes, she did not turn away from me
But instead gazed on how the breeze could sway my branches
I wanted my bark to secrete the sweetest tears,
So she would know how eternally I yearn for her glances
For it is she alone, who can consume and digest my poisons
It is she alone—besides the sun—who gives me reason to stand erect
Woman flows like a river.
As the each drop of the water
Joins with the river,
With the variation of the
Colour in it’s combination,
The wonts and passions
Shapes her.
The new saplings
That flow from the
Inhalation of woman
Just similar to
The birds and plants
Forms from the breath
Of the nature.
Like the small particle of soil
And the rough, tough
And hard rock
That exist against the river
In it’s path of happiness,
Stalemate and hardship
Covers and efface her.
When she tries and succeeds
To counter attack all her obstacles.
In a way a child splinter flowers
She is being spoiled
But by a brutish heart.
Her ruin is etched
On the core of her bosom
As the greatest waterloo
In her womanhood.
The womanly wealth
That she was being weaving
With gentle golden
And silver threads has lopped.
The placidly glowing eyes
and the churned heart
had been eradicated.
Even the resistance
Remains in her eyes,
Even the will of return
Lasts in her face,
Even the hope of tomorrow
Reverberate in her lips,
Her womanly lilt of life
Hidden in the cloud melted down
And ragged like the leaf
That fall on the sharp thorns.
Life is a sluggish hag,
That along loves to drag;
The best one might do
Is to let it snake around
As it's by its wonts bound.
And if it struggles to roll to its end,
Don't let it start a fight with you;
Simply let it do as it's bent,
For it depends not much upon you,
But it's by wildest whirlings sent.