Best Poems Written by Bobby Mielke

Below are the all-time best Bobby Mielke poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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December To May

The land still held in wint'ry grasp.
Against the chill my breath did rasp.
When for a moment my eyes did see,
A fair maiden dancing nakedly.
Nary a stitch nor thread on her wond'rous shape.
As she beckoned I could naught but gape.
When she spoke her voice was a melody,
Promising things that I only dreamed.
I went to her in bewildered awe,
And this is suddenly what I saw-

White roses tangled in her flaxen tresses,
A thousand poppies at her feet,
Fairies danced in diaphinous dresses,
With sunlight was the scene replete.

On she led o'er field and meadow.
Where she trod the spring would show.
With love and joy my heart did swell,
For this maiden had rescued me from winter's hell.
For hours we laughed and sang and such.
I would gasp and tremble at her every touch.
Not once did I think to inquire her name,
Nor did I ask from whence she came.
We rested at length 'neath a stately oak,
And this I found when I awoke-

Gone was my maiden and the spring she brought,
Frozen were the fields and meadows,
Simply a dream, or so I had thought,
Yet clasped in my hand, a single white rose.

I return each day to this lonely place,
Hoping to glimpse my fair maiden's face.
Low does the sun sink in the winter sky,
When I turn home with a tear in my eye.
For once again she has neglected to show,
And left me this wretched ice and snow.
Yet I musn't believe that she does not care,
Lest I should let my heart despair.
For she will return again one day,
Turning as she goes, December to May.

Copyright © Bobby Mielke | Year Posted 2006


Details | Bobby Mielke Poem

The Circus

Come the foppish, come the fine.
Come the fancy drinking wine.
Come the lowly, come the poor.
Come the beggars beg for more.
Come the crooks, come the thieves.
Come the lurkers under eves.
Come the kings, come the queens.
Come the royal finer beings.
Come them one, come them all.
Come the masses held in thrall.

Come to the circus, the young and old.
Come to enjoy since time untold.

Come the dogs, come the cats.
Come the high flying acrobats.
Come the jokers, come the clowns.
Come the painted smiles and frowns.
Come the strange, come the freaks.
Come the things which no one speaks.
Come the daring, come the brave.
Come the feats the people crave.
Come them large, come them small.
Come the performers one and all.

Come to the circus, the women and men.
Come to amaze time and again.

Copyright © Bobby Mielke | Year Posted 2006

Details | Bobby Mielke Poem

The Officer and the Poet

A man in a comical hat,
Who was simply very fat,
Came riding on a one legged fool.

As I attempted to pass,
He stopped and politely asked,
Had I committed a rhyme?

"Of course." I then said,
And the fool shook his head.
"I am a poet and rhymes are my tool."

"Then," he replied, "you are under arrest.
To go quietly would be best,
For in this land that is a grievous crime."

"Then surely," I exclaimed, " you are guilty too,
Just by rhyming as you do,
So you might as well arrest yourself!"

"But I am an officer of the law,"
He said with a grand guffaw,
"Therefore, myself from the law exempt!"

Copyright © Bobby Mielke | Year Posted 2006

Details | Bobby Mielke Poem

Hush

Hush-
Calm your ragged breath my love.
Let not my indiscretions
cause that voice of gold 
  	to know the pain of a wretched sob
Dry your angel eyes
	and cry not for loneliness when I go
T’would break my heart to learn
	that those had shed a tear
Or those lips,
	soft and pale
had known the bitter taste of sorrow on my behalf

Copyright © Bobby Mielke | Year Posted 2007

Details | Bobby Mielke Poem

With Thee I Would Fly

Upon my brow,
this crown of bent and twisted sorrows.
Upon my wrists,
these iron chains of despair.
Broken,
these wings, to the heavens shant cary.
This earth,
without them, is where I shall die.

From my brow,
this crown I would have thee lift.
My wrists,
these chains unbind.
Repair for me my love,
these broken wings,
and with thee I would fly.

Weighted by my sadness,
to the heavens I shant soar.
Wounded and bleeding,
upon this wretched earth I lay.
Praying,
my beloved's touch, I await.
For without,
Bleak and hopeless shall be my end.

From my heart,
this weight I would have thee lift.
My wounds,
I would ask thee to bind.
Grant me my love,
your precious touch,
and with thee I would fly.

Copyright © Bobby Mielke | Year Posted 2006


Details | Bobby Mielke Poem

The Desert

Aye we languished 'neath a blazing sun
As wearily we dropped one by one
Sand so blinding to the naked eye
So harsh to make a grown man cry
Parched and cracked with naught to drink
Delirium, so a man can't think
Lost and stumbling through the dev'lish heat
We cooked to death like so much meat
Six we were, then five, then four
I am the last, the others no more
So I pen this note to my lovely wife
But to the desert I give my life

Copyright © Bobby Mielke | Year Posted 2006

Details | Bobby Mielke Poem

Star Tiger

Tiger eyes and starry skies
In darkness shining bright
Rise from peaceful slumber
When day has turned to night

Shadow’s son – the restless one
Weary of mundane things
Yearn to walk the comet’s path
To run with celestial beings

Silent strength ‘neath silent moon
Dreaming of a life on high
Shine on Star Tiger
And await your moment in the sky

Copyright © Bobby Mielke | Year Posted 2007

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