Wreathing Poems | Examples

Scene, While Away, 2

Background B.B King it

You'll get home alone

A Quartering as Jazz
As quart and liter
As meter and mile 
Footage and reconcile

Irish Quartermasters Gaurd

Kevin J. O'Meadhra

Trace as feather
Low of ash
Bury of quill
Fide et amore

Nightingales Ergo
Send in rot
Further, borrow
Scottish wreathing
Entangled Britain
Relent



They of leave
Twined as lecture
Recital of yellow
Beckon brown
Revile of green
Tustled hearth


Baby babysit looks like
It's gonna hail
Jump and jive

As sent to the SAG

In tawdry spent
The war is lent

The establishment of thy own 
A hate filled thrown
As crimes as thine
Tinkle and toast

In a entire
Only as pure
The picture as haunt
Plagiarism 
Stores front
Sufferer as complaint
In stilled poverty 
I law

Joan had little art
Lythed command
Hinde weeps rather as waltz
Herculean task
Wardrobe mantle black

Opening Suggestion of Betrothed

Listen to the Wind

Listen to the wind sweeping autumn leaves,
pirouetting amongst a citrine sunset.
Whilst light rain collects at corners of windowsills,
illumination from a crackling fire
bounces upon unpigmented mourning walls.

Silent weeping occupies microcrevices,
confined within the splintering memories.
The creaking of an antique rocking chair
melds with the restless nocturnal atmosphere,
of time no longer waiting in the shadows.

Sheer onyx fabric draped over photographs—
death came much earlier, not from hate or spite,
but to erase the endless suffering,
of years wreathing in perpetual chronic pain,
locked within fragile bones and a trapped mind.

So do not curse the gods, my dearest love,
nor get lost in voids of sorrow oblivion.
Know peace has now been brought to my tired soul;
I wait patiently until we are one again.

Of These Three

Of these three: faith, hope and love- let love reign.	 
And faith, as essential as one's breathing;		 
Hope must be second, for a higher plane.		 

When suffering and heartache stir the pain		 
And disappointments pierce us like teething;	 
Of these three: faith, hope and love- let love reign.	 

The wiser soul despises old refrains,			 
Focused only on heaven’s high wreathing		 
Hope must be second, for a higher plane.		 

The devil spins his lies for sordid gains			 
God gives His children a three-fold sheathing.		 
Of these three: faith, hope and love- let love reign.	 

Abide in heaven’s mercies and His Name 		 
And discover grace and trials easing.			 
Hope must be second, for a higher plane.		 

Great aspirations flow through seeker’s veins,
Unimagined heights and glory seizing-
Of these three: faith, hope and love- let love reign.
Hope must be second, for a higher plane.

The delivery

Alluring
Bouquet
Carnations
Delivered.
Envelope
Florist
Gorgeous, 
Honoring
Inks
Journey 
Keeping 
Love
Moreover
Needing
Ours.
Purposely
Quickening
Revealed
Safety
Transforming
Unselfish
Value 
Wreathing;
X-raying;
Yearning;
Zen!

Configuring the Heart

On the splendorous crown of my heart
shimmering in the cerulean night
you gleamed with the sequins of moon.
I tried to feel your sapphire touch,
but you glided away out of my sight,
across my sky I had carved for you.

In the verdant vale of my cascading heart
your footprints traced a turquoise trail.
As I walked on the deserted garden path
I discerned the remains of my love glow
in the mesmeric embrace of the moon dust,
drizzling with the patina of your grace.

From the darkened edge of the stilled night 
storm clouds surged with thunders of strife,
splintered my sky of convoluted dreams.
From beneath the dispersed debris of despair
I gathered the fragments of my broken heart.

When you returned to my yearning sky
these turned into stars sprouting one by one,
bejeweled by your moonbeam lattice.
I configured my heart a crystal constellation,
wreathing an astral garland to embrace you.

Written : January 17, 2020
February 19, 2020
Contest : Strand Select U, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand

Last Words On Earth

If I leave earth, I wish to leave saying it
to the whole world: ‘I have no sorrow in mind.'
‘No sorrow I have'—writing these words and
wreathing them in mind, I wish to leave silently
feeling the warmth of happiness on my body.

I have seen Rose; its thorn has not got shelter
into my mind. Being a Chital fish, I have swum
in the unfathomable youth; age and decay
have never been able to touch my soul.
Winter has retreated; cuckoos have started singing
the song of flowers throughout my existence.

If I go back, I wish to go saying it: ‘True and
beautiful is the muddy hut made with affection
on the desert of life. True and beautiful are
Night's moonlight, Day's civilization, mother's
honey-call, child's face and beloved's sweet words.'

Midnight Sail

MIDNIGHT SAIL

Took a sail, on the deep dark night.
The pale moon, haggard, over head.
And sharks float, on their backs, seething.
Appetite, up this night, wreathing.
Love chatter doth resist its bed.

6/17/2017
Mad-Song Stanza/Bedlamite Verse

Wild Is the Wind

Wild is the winding wind
    blowing    breezy       gentle
     blatantly  bold           unafraid
      blustery   brisk          squalled
    weaved     whipping        zephyrs
     wreathing  wriggled        gales
      whirlwind   wafting          chinooks
     flurry  fluttering             tempest
      fury fist furled              typhoons
       feisty folded              twists
     circling coiled           distortions
       cyclone current      mistrals
        curvy cued          loops
  chilling spiraled gusted breath.

Messages

The wind whistles through the lonely crags,
Of the high, barren mountains,
Bringing the tangy scent of sage, down below,
To where there is none.
The sweet scent of pine and fir,
Waft in the breeze,
Sending their scents high above,
Where they may never go.
The richness of growing things,
Are carried by the zephyr,
To sweetly bring memories of growth and life,
To a place beyond their reach.
Here among the mountain peaks,
The airs of the world tell of life below,
Here the frosts gleam ever white,
Wreathing the tops in perpetual snow

Loneliness

There are times I feel alone,
Like drifting in space with out a home.
The light of others shines so bright,
I can not reach them try as I might.
I've drifted for so many years,
And have shed so many tears,
The loneliness is tearing me apart,
I feel it deep within my heart.
So much pain you see,
It causes me much misery.
All I want is some one to hold,
And help me feel not so cold.
To mend my heart from all these feelings,
And make it stop all its wreathing.
To make things all be right,
I hope one day with all my might.

Love Love Love Is My Love

>>O love love love love love love love love Is My Love (an ode)

I love my love
As love should love
But you never love
As my love should love me.

you got your colourful wings
and you fly
but I am never invited
left as a flower without butterfly


You are the wish
You are the desire
Every one loves to fill with
But my heart pangs in despair.

Even if I close my eyes and shut my mind
My heart knows you come in as a rain
In the hearts of people but mine I find
In the desert under unbearable wreathing pain.

Fires of Hell

most think of hell
as a place we go
when toils the bell
sending us below

Fiery inferno
white hot flames
engulfing us
bodies burning

For an eternity
wreathing, twisting
paying for sins
done up here

The devil claims
us as his due
inflicting torture
tormenting our soul

This is what we
are led to believe
wait, think on,
forget hells fire's

Listen instead
to that voice within
sometimes a soft whisper
another time a roar

We pay all our lives
one way or another
pricks of consciousness
tearing us apart

People pointing fingers
shame of knowing
that we done wrong
guilt in our minds

These are the flames
that burn deep
consuming us
day to day

Living, remembering
trying to escape
from our wrongs
surely this is hell?

An alternative way of looking at hell I just pose a question nothing else

' the Script '

================================================

~*~

wreathing this life's mind's eye - wrenched, gnarled, hit, burked
neurons in diminution - clashed, rammed, slayed
futility tops up canvass of murk
phonemes, words, phrases now frolicly played
heart's lyrical requiem overlaid
poesy - penned, written in woe death's crypt
shrieking the LIMITLESS lines of my SCRIPT.

~*~

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*-*  jun-jun villanueva

*-*  " RHYME ROYAL " contest

Misdemeanour

^_^ ~~~~~~~~~^_^~~~~~~~~~              (0_0)                  (0_0)



       Wreathing this encephalon - wrenched, gnarled, murdered
                   Neurons in diminution - de-escalated, clashing, ramming now lethargic
             Canvass of verse and poesy - lacking, still vacuous and comic
                       But language and fervour is penned, tedium and ennui clobbered.

Wreathing Sonnet

Past portraits of ancestral knowing
keep our knowing alive through folk lore,
traditional lore is still showing,
habits showing convention before.
Observance comes before each pathway,
bygone pathway shows how we live now,
what manifests now is our new day,
where each day displays what fates allow.
Customs allow us our connection,
our connection to past is esteemed,
ancestors esteemed by protection,
the protection of what we have dreamed.
We achieve what we dreamed at long last
made to last through the rites of our past.

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