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Best Poems Written by Mel Merrill

Below are the all-time best Mel Merrill poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

Dancing Once Again With Words

Dancing once again with words,
As the two of us, embrace--
Another verse, another rhyme
Of waterfalls, and lace.

Romantic words in meter,
Although where's the gentle kiss?
Where's the touch and feel of it,
The tenderness, I miss?

Need I craft another verse, or two,
Of moon and leafy wood?
Should one appear, and touch my heart,
Then possibly I could.

But what would be the good of it,
Shall my words a love renew?
Then a sonnet I would surely pen
With the imagery of you.

And who can say, though distantly,
Perhaps a spark could grow--
Then I would dance, and cheek-to-cheek...
And let my poems go.

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

Till My Poems Are, No More

I bequeath to you my poems,
For words are all I own--
May the images of snow and fall
Bring you comfort when alone.

And I will leave you all of it;
The moonlight on the moor--
As well the quiet, leafy wood,
Or a sunbathed distant shore.

And among the rhyme and imagery;
The metaphor, and theme--
You'll read of rose and morning dew,
Of midnight naps, and dream.

And somewhere in between the lines
The fantasy turns real--
So take these words I proffer you,
And touch, and taste, and feel.

Amazing are the things you'll see,
Like the ivy-covered wall--
Or the icy streams of diamond
And the spill of waterfall.

So enchanting is the moonlight,
So too the autumn breeze--
Oh how I'll miss the butterflies
And the stand of ancient trees.

So precious is the lily pond,
The wildflowers too--
Take comfort in the song of rain
And the pansies playful hue.

How amazing is the hummingbird
In uncertain, frenzied flight--
Reminds me of the dawn and eve
As they argue, day or night.

And in the valley of the glen,
Where stands the steeple church--
There remains a knee-high meadow,
And a lovely stand of birch.

So Immerse yourself in wondering,
Set your spirit to the sky--
Behold as children, puffs of cloud;
The bee and butterfly.

And let your palette taste the wind,
Hear the quiet of the snow--
While delighting in the jasmine;
The sweetest scent I know.

Take my words and nurture them,
Kindly revel in my dream--
And keep alive the buttercup,
As well the mountain stream.

May you sleep the night, and linger;
That my dream may carry on--
Give life to every word and thought
Till the images are gone.

May you celebrate the beauty;
May you open every door--
Till the sun is swallowed by the sea,
And my poems are, no more.

~M

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

I Wonder If In Heaven

On earth, as it is in heaven,
Or the Bible tells me so--
I wonder if in heaven,
Will the winds of autumn blow?

Or will there be a garden,
Will the morningglory grow--
I wonder if in heaven
Will the springs of summer flow?

And just beyond the pearly gates
Will the seasons come and go--
I wonder if in heaven
Will there fall a flake of snow?

Or will my love be waiting there;
Shall I find my crimson rose?
And marvel at her beauty...
The smile Da Vinci knows.

~M

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

Farewell To Innocence

Read this if you have the time,
I'm compelled these words to write--
Seems my parent's age of innocence
Is drawing near, the light.

For the poetry and cinema,
And the songs like "Stardust," too--
Are turning to a memory
And fading from our view.

But it was an age of innocence!
I knew it as a boy.
Where has gone the happiness;
And how escaped the joy?

Still the golden age is dying
And it whispered with a breathe--
"Don't let us pass away in vain,
And dye a common death."

So forgive me if I prattle on
But it seems the thing to do--
I placed flowers on the old today,
And will now endure, the new.

Farewell ole age of innocence,
My kind and gentle friend--
Till Buddy and the Teddy Bear
Take the stage and sing again!

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

The Butterfly

The butterfly, it flutters by,
And yes flutter is the word--
For butterflies don't soar or buzz
Like other bugs, or birds. 

They dance upon the summer breeze
As they flit about the air--
For a garden sweet, is incomplete
Lest butterflies are there.

But who knows whence they travel,
And who knows why they stay--
Perhaps they come to court the rose,
Or about the flowers play.

The monarch and the Morpheus,
And the other species too--
They cause the spring to sweetly sing
And enhance the lovely view.

So perhaps I'll find a garden,
And should fate allow it so--
Then I might see, the tissue she...
Flutter lightly to and fro.

The Butterfly Flutters By Contest
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
05/22/14

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

Moonlight On the Countryside

From deep beyond the canyon rim,
Appearing at first night;
The moon appears upon a whim
And relays its borrowed light.

Then rising there above the knoll,
Through wisps of misty white;
The moonlight falls as flakes of snow
Upon the countryside.

~M

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

The Death of Light

Once again befalls the night,
The birth of dark; the death of light.
The shroud that veils the light of day,
Of silk and lace does lightly lay.
And so the mourners straggle on
Each waiting for a coming dawn;
Yet this is not a common night--
T is the birth of dark...
And the death of light!

~M

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

Death, the Howling Wind

Death, the howling, moaning wind
The dying can't ignore--
It scratches at the window pane
And slaps the shudder door.

Then cruelly taps upon the roof
With incessant, mocking strain--
And stops, but only for a breath,
Then begins to howl again.

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

A Winters Night

There is no thing so peaceful
As a winters night in the woods--
A canopy as black as pitch, 
Spangled with the pinpricks of a billion stars--
Shimmering.
The banks of snow and downy flake,
Turned to diamonds by the moonlight
That drapes the sparkling,
Rolling hills with a shawl of powder blue
And midnight lace.
The cold air, brisk and chill,
Transforms my every breath to puffs
of cloud, that trail away like
Wisps of smoke, into nothingness.
So peaceful is this winter wood--and still,
Like foxes napping.
No evidence of man exists--
He is not welcome here.
I myself am an intruder, and gratefully.
There are no prints, or marks,
Save the tracks of a hungry deer.
And the indecisive flurries fall,
As if the stars themselves--
And lightly gather on my brow and lash.
Then comes, and without warning,
A gentle breeze--a timid thing
Who asserts itself--reluctantly,
And shy.
It wanders through the powdered wood,
Lightly stirring snow and pine. 
How comforting the rustle--
Just as reverent as a hymn.
And the sweet scent of the Douglas Fur
Consumes the sense and dulls the wit,
Till I am thoughtless there;
Save but one, this is a prayer--
The kind whispered as a child.
Perhaps children would be welcome here,
If they could quiet be;
Although snowballs would be welcome
In this place of sanctity.
But awe the sound, I thoughtless hear
A pinecone falling from a tree--
A sound that I would overlook
Were I elsewhere but this wood.
And that's the magic of the hymn; 
The magic of the prayer--
The magic of this powdered wood
To be the more aware.
And thankfully I ponder every flurry--
Every flake, every star
And every diamond--
Every cloudy breath I take.
Now the banks of blue
Are a part of me--
This winter wood, my soul;
And though soon I will be leaving,
I will never really go.
For there is no thing so peaceful
As a winters night in the woods--
And there is no thing so quiet,
As snow!

Details | Mel Merrill Poem

A Most Inspired Guest

The shady wood I came upon
Was so adequately blessed,
I determined I would tarry there
If only for a rest.

The trees were as cathedrals
And the floor was mossy green--
While the scattered beams of sunlight
Made the site the more serene.

The cool and misty morning air
Did my worries quickly dim--
It was a sanctuary of a sort;
The breeze was as a hymn.

And I thought I saw an angel,
Though it may have been a deer--
Still God was then less distant
Just as heaven was more near.

That shady wood I came upon
Was by God so richly dressed,
I offered up a prayer of thanks--
A most inspired guest!