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Emile Pinet Poem
To appreciate our planet,
begin with its snowcapped mountains:
where sunbeams morph crystals of ice
into gems of glistening light.
See pink clouds hover in the skies,
afloat on a vista of blue:
and a setting sun smear scarlet,
onto puffs of marshmallow white.
And jungles, at its equator:
create a sash of vibrant greens;
while burnt sands ripple Earth's deserts,
with shifting dunes of tans and creams.
Watch Earth's leafy forests change from
deciduous to evergreen:
and tundra, pitted with blue lakes,
fade to stretches of virgin snow.
And volcanoes erupt in flames
spewing plumes of ebony smoke:
as lava bleeds from gaping wounds,
while giving birth to molten Earth.
See cobalt and aquamarine
waves, crested with white foamy froth:
and two tilted poles, capped in ice,
sparkle, like crystalline jewels.
View it from afar, as it twirls
within the vacuum of space:
like a phantasmagorical
cerulean marble: called Earth.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016
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Emile Pinet Poem
I leave the daily hustle and bustle
and the cacophony of city sound.
And head to where the leaves softly rustle
in the breeze, and no one else is around.
When I'm alone, I experience peace
that raises my soul to a higher plane.
And anxiety's attacks slowly cease,
free from critical critiques and disdain.
Seclusion fuels imagination;
shaping reality within my mind.
And it's a feeling of liberation;
unrestricted by rules of any kind.
Whenever I seek solitude by choice,
I heed the whispers of my inner voice.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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Emile Pinet Poem
Betrayal devastates your trusting heart,
severing the bonds of love from the start.
And depression slowly entraps your soul,
as disparaging lies exact their toll.
Chameleon clouds change to match your mood,
releasing teardrops, sad emotions brewed.
And at the crossroads of sane and insane,
your heart breaks, under the weight of your pain.
A fickle Sun no longer shares its light,
sulking in the shadows, gathered by Night.
And feigning feelings, you struggle to cope,
for a broken heart cannot harbor Hope.
At the end of the tunnel, there's no light,
everything appears dark: obscured by fright:
And the specter of fear festers in dreams;
fueling night terrors and silent screams.
The promise of tomorrow made to youth
was written on yesterday's fragile truth.
And like a vino, decanted in haste,
love's a premature wine with a sour taste.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017
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Emile Pinet Poem
A pair of turtle doves, preen and prim,
snuggled close on their favorite limb.
And cooing low, wake a sleeping sun;
giving praise, for a new day begun.
A slip of a ghostly moon rides low,
wearing its light like a pale halo.
And Sol ascends, master of the day:
fueling Dawn's aurora display.
Vapors shed crystal tears on the grass,
depositing dewdrops clear as glass.
And fragrant flowers imbue the air;
with a sweet scent beyond compare.
Palm trees clad in a southern motif,
tickle the skies with a feathered leaf.
And skittish crabs play tag with the waves;
darting in and out of muddy caves.
While sipping wine, we enjoy the show
greeting the sun with a happy glow.
And as romance and Nature combine:
I share my soul with my Valentine.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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Emile Pinet Poem
Starlight pierces ebony,
above sculpted shades of white.
And moonbeams soften the scene,
gilding Night, with golden light.
Donning a crystalline dress:
Nature's a picture of grace.
And draped in soft, snowy down:
She's frozen in time and space.
Billions of snowflakes gather
atop branches: where they freeze.
And subtle features get carved:
by the breath of a sharp breeze.
But breezes aren't strong enough,
to dislodge the sticky snow.
And the laden branches bend:
bowing impossibly low.
Cold casts an enchanting spell:
in the throes of Arctic chill.
And silence imbues magic:
to Winter's artistic skill.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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Emile Pinet Poem
Callused fingers press vibrating strings,
drawing passion from a violin.
And with burnished wood snug to his cheek,
amplifies what he feels in his heart.
Subtle notes saturate my being
as crying strings elicit feelings.
And expounding on love and desire,
music stirs the imagination.
His bow hangs, like a lingering kiss
savoring the taste of ecstasy.
And with a tear trickling down his cheek,
he unleashes unbridled fervor.
Combining hope with pangs of rapture
sound slips the bounds of reality.
And each vibe resonates in my heart,
reigniting passion's dormant flame.
As callused fingers tug my heartstrings
I've never before felt so alive.
And in this state of exaltation,
I feel my pulse race, and my heart pound.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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Emile Pinet Poem
It begins as a gentle breeze
that rustles the leaves with its touch.
Scurrying through the tops of trees,
it begins as a gentle breeze.
Not enough to discourage bees,
it is barely brisk; it isn't much.
It begins as a gentle breeze
that rustles the leaves with its touch.
It is barely brisk; it isn't much,
until that breeze begins to gust.
Yet birds can still escape its clutch:
it is barely brisk; it isn't much.
It topples garbage cans and such,
gathering up a cloud of dust.
It is barely brisk; it isn't much,
until that breeze begins to gust.
Gathering up a cloud of dust,
a darkness blocks out the Sun's light.
And winds blow, with increasing thrust;
gathering up a cloud of dust.
When the sky turns orangey rust,
tornadoes are a frightful sight.
Gathering up a cloud of dust,
a darkness blocks out the Sun's light.
Tornadoes are a frightful sight,
with debris flying through the air.
Morphing into objects of might,
tornadoes are a frightful sight.
Finding cover, we hang on tight,
for flying shrapnel packs a scare.
Tornadoes are a frightful sight,
with debris flying through the air.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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Emile Pinet Poem
Questioning eyes, see through paper-thin lies,
igniting fear as flames erupt inside.
And devastated, she breaks down and cries,
trying to salvage what's left of her pride.
She believed you both had found your soulmate:
not imagining either heart would stray.
Yet, she struggled with bouts of love and hate:
watching her forever dreams slip away.
There's no ignoring an innocent flirt:
it's the first crack in a relationship.
And the lies that accompany it, hurt:
causing the scales of happiness to tip.
Jealousy is an emotional trance
that snuffs the flickering flames of romance.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2024
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Emile Pinet Poem
Love seems non-responsive to
your expectations of youth.
And feels like an illusion,
a mix of lies and the truth.
Facing doubt and frustration,
bravado falters; then slips.
And yet, in your fantasies,
you kiss your lover's sweet lips.
Hope courts imagination,
summoning a dreamy smile.
And you find your happy place,
where you haven't been for a while.
You're searching for a soulmate
upon your heart's insistence.
So, you continue to look;
with undying persistence.
You fall in and out of love
with the ghosts of yesterday.
And though feigning happiness,
swear everything's okay.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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Emile Pinet Poem
No doubt you've heard of fire-breathing dragons,
and their obsession with hoarding treasure.
But have you ever heard of Huffle-Winks,
magical creatures that promote pleasure?
Invisible, atop their dragonflies,
they ride the winds of fate, mile after mile.
And wherever they encounter a frown,
they attempt to flip it into a smile.
They summon dragonflies to get around,
for unlike dragons, they haven't learned to fly.
Yet, if you suddenly feel like laughing,
it's a safe bet; a Huffle-Wink's nearby.
In winter, when dragonflies disappear:
Huffle-Wink's ride upon tumbling snowflakes.
And if you're lucky enough to lure one,
it's like winning the lottery sweepstakes.
I've never seen one, except in my dreams:
deep in my heart, I know that they're real.
And what makes me so sure that they exist
is the joyful way that they make me feel?
When you're feeling particularly blue,
remember, Huffle-Winks are all around.
And as spirits of jocularity,
they ensure that smiles and laughter abound.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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