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Best Poems Written by Ann Peck

Below are the all-time best Ann Peck poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ann Peck Poem

Golf Footle

The grass
alas
is shorn
like corn
the dew
eschews
forlorn
this morn

the crowd
avowed
the ball
and all
then groans 
and moans
clubs thrown
are known.

Embued
and hued
the words
like swords
wrong swing
the sting
bad lie
too high

the squeeze
on knees
in pleas?
to seize
the gold
and hold
glory
story

though droll
their goal 
control
cajole
that ball
to fall
or roll
in hole

August 22,2022
For Brian Strand's Premiere Choice Contest
FIRST PLACE TROPhy!
POEM OF THE WEEK!

Details | Ann Peck Poem

I Wandered Lonely As a Leaf That Falls

Inspired by "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud," by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a leaf that falls,
unmourned, to the distant ground
I paused when I heard a far bird's calls
Magic I'd missed looking down--
royal Autumn leaves danced in gold and red.
This must be where my lonely heart has led.

Opened my eyes to this spellbound place,
and breathed air perfumed by pine.
Then sat near blossom with smiling face,
feeling thoughts and heart align.
I watched grass spinning beneath a tall oak;
heard whispered promises breeze softly spoke.

Head full of dreams, I wandered along
paths worn by many steps before.
Mountain larks welcomed me with a song,
I spied lilacs, bluebells, and more.
Around each corner, surprises await.
I feel my loneliness start to abate.

I happen upon a wayward creek,
sit and watch her bouncing spray,
Bubbling with laughter, just what I seek--
hidden by an oak overlay.
Untethered nature met unquiet heart.
Now I burst with song; can't tell us apart!

September 18,2022
for "I Wandered Lonely As A..." contest
by Natasha L. Scragg
Third Place
Poem of the Week

Details | Ann Peck Poem

Don'T Miss Me

Don't miss me for I'm never very far,
glimpsing your days from a secret star.
I'm among flowers that grow by your side,
resting on rainbows when hoping to hide.

As stars sparkle in the misty moonlight,
should a lone one capture a naive night,
or, if the summer breeze ruffles your hair,
it's because, for the moment, I was there.

Music you hear in a soft, summer's breeze,
is our song I'm singing to sleepy trees.
If not there, I fly in a peaceful place
where love can exist in a groundless grace. 

I often meet you in whispers of air,
the song of a bird, sunlight on the stair.
I'll caress you when time gathers us nigh,
Together we'll explore the seamless sky.

March 16, 2023
for Brian Strand's Number 1199 poetry contest
POTD

Details | Ann Peck Poem

I Didn'T Know

When men were kings with steeds
women were handmaids to their needs.
repositories for their seed to grow
                                   ...I didn't know.

When men worked to make fields right,
women worked both day and night,
with bleeding hands, she'd try to sew
                                    ...I didn't know.

Men talked politics to only men
women weren't allowed back then.
If she had a brain, it mustn't show,
                                     ...I didn't know.

A woman couldn't own things herself;
like chattel, she sat on the shelf.
Her children were only his to show,
                                      ...I didn't know.

This is one thing to take note:
at one time, a woman could not vote;
until Suffragists began their show,
                                       ...I didn't know.

She worked and the check went to the man.
He'd give her cash within his own plan.
Altho tired, she helped her children grow,
                                        ...I didn't know.

Now women sit as corporate heads,
doctors, lawyers, all well-read.
We're living in the afterglow,
on the shoulders of all those women
                                       ...we didn't know.

Details | Ann Peck Poem

A Mermaid's Song

As I walked on a lonely beach,
     I thought I spied a Mermaid--
But no, it couldn't be, I thought. 
Yet, drawing near, I saw it was
    a Mermaid sunning on a rock.
   Her back, I saw, and fins. 
     as I looked on in shock.    
She couldn't see me as I crept forward,
     hid and watched
Her hair, like spun gold, blew gently
     in Summer's breeze.
Her skin, an opalescent green--
     by that, I mean
there were mingled hues
      of peridot and opal
creating a soft sea green.
     and, when she moved,
     created opal's fire
          amid her sheen
Her hands were webbed but versatile
     and I could only stare
     as she braided sunbeams
          in her hair.      
She began to hum
which soon became a song she sang
     the music haunting,
yet nestled deep
     were sounds of waves
     kissing shore--
          music I longed to keep.
Her song reached a crescendo
     as sea waves crashed.
A moment only, I turned 
     and glanced at the sea.
When I looked back,
     she had disappeared...
       into a memory.            
I found a pebble she had left
of iridescent green--a gift.
     All along, she knew
     I watched. 
Often, at dusk,    
I walk the lonely sands
     and search for her.
          I listen for her song...
                but she has gone.

Details | Ann Peck Poem

To Paint the Skies

.                           1~

She walked ~ faint footprints left behind
A maiden's journey~a silent remind
of long-ago days in deerskin dress
A shelter of skins won under duress

She walks with wind along the Plains
Feeds quail and birds the corn remains.
Her voice, an octave or two below
returns their music as she sows

She prays for peace and for the rain
She wants her lover back again
and corn that reaches up so high
it paints the blue across the sky.

She wants those days before men came
took their children, killed their game
She wants the breezes in her hair
and mourns those days of little care.

                           ~2~
An archaeologist~grave robber, some say
Yet before each dig, she takes time to pray
For this is where people lived and died
Birthed their young, laughed and cried

She finds the footprints under deep sand
Preserved for years by Nature's hand
And, next to them, some bits of corn
A wonderous find, and yet she's torn.

Put on display for tourists to stare
hallowed ground ruined, many despair.
A tug at her heart, the call of a bird~
She decides to leave site undisturbed.

As she moves on, she throws some corn
For quail and birds to feast upon
Perhaps nuggets will one day rise ~
As stalks so high they paint the skies.

Details | Ann Peck Poem

Terra Incognita

So strange this land, old and yet young.
Where is this place of tall green trees,
and grey-haired men in unknown tongue?
they must have traveled summer's breeze.

Adobe brick quonset "chalets"
mud-soaked roadways in all the blocks.
WACs and wives and waifs everyday
midst hollyhocks and four o'clocks.

Los Alamos*, this place must be.
A land of Oz 'neath bluest sky.
Where science dealt humanity
a fatal blow, then watched it die.

A perfect paradox is this.
How splendid to contrast the two--
a lovely place/a devil's kiss,
and wisdom sprinkled like the dew.

I left quite soon but still recall
the secrets hidden on each page.
The lilac mountains looming tall,
their perfume of fission and sage.

August 5, 2022
"Terra Incognita"
for This or That, Vol. 13, poetry contest
by Edward Ibeth

*Los Alamos Laboratories, New Mexico, are where the atomic bombs were
created then dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan in WWII.

Details | Ann Peck Poem

Wind

Ah, Wind, we've known each other so long.
While creatures run quickly from your side,
I've tried to find kindness in your song 
but your howls become hard to abide.

You loudly roar blowing doors ajar,
trees bent weary by ceaseless pummel.
I hear your rumble, beginning far
announcing yourself, never humble.

Beneath blue skies,  a rustle of leaves,
a gentle breeze stirring grains of sand.
Clever Wind sending Zephyr to tease
but we now know the tricks in your hand.

You can charm dust into whirling dance                 
spinning her round as dust devils fly.
Then do your best to spoil a romance
with your chuckle as they reach the sky.

Unmentionable tantrums and blows,
your foot stamping when you are annoyed.
Leveling towns, do you regret those
heartbreaks caused as you merrily toyed?

Sometimes forlorn, or is that a guise,
when quickly you stop, tempering voice? 
is that sadness I see in your eyes?
With flashes of scorn, you make your choice.

April 23, 2023
for "Word Challenge--W Words" poetry contest
by Constance La France
howmanysyllables=9

Details | Ann Peck Poem

Grand Old Oak Tree

What tales your leaves must whisper
of youths tall in your strong arms.
Pretending to be pirates
in a terrible, fierce storm.

Or lovers in your shadows
making vows they sometimes kept;
dreamer's secret hideaway,
underneath leaves, young boys slept.

Many years honed your boldness,
growing taller, stronger, blest.
You were proud to play sentry
standing guard so birds could nest.

You were the featured player
in those years of grandeur past.
Years have now turned against you
and have burdened you at last.

Growing older with seasons,
branches balding, and falling.
You stand proud as you listen
to echoes and their calling.

My good friend, grand old oak tree
I will sit with you at last
We'll tell each other stories
of those days that have long passed.

April, 2020
for Wisdom from Trees Poetry Contest
by Anoucheka Gangabissoon

Details | Ann Peck Poem

When a Hero Stumbles

Out of the ether once came a small child
who hoped to one day fly thru the air.
Diligently applying herself, learning a style,
performing higher leaps, tapping the rare.

She performed somersaults, all in her stride,
with greater and more intelligent ease.
Winning honors and gold medals worldwide,
winning hearts with technical expertise

She became the world's new daring upstart
"sensational, uncanny, never fails,"
They didn't care that she led with her heart
and began to believe all of the tales.

As heroes may do, she took a misstep
and stumbled as the world was looking on.
the fault came not because she was inept,
the world on her shoulders became too strong.

A lesson to be learned: tho brave they are
some athletes just barely more than a child.
We expect all heroes to be bright stars
so we can foster their dreams for a while.

We forget they're human, just as we are
with mightier longings and goals, perhaps.
We must forgive occasional dimmed stars,
help them stand if they sometimes collapse.