by Panagiota Romios |
Categories:
appreciation, community, love, perspective, poetry,
~Poetesses and Poets, Divine~
All over this great planet we live,
Penning our thoughts, and love to give!
With our hearts, as lanterns so bright,
Writing with hearts into this summer night.
Pen thee, then, of nature’s fine beauty.
Quietly, we are world Muses on duty.
Creations we form of happiness and sorrow.
Moonlight and dreams, on which to borrow!
A hug from me, now..close your eyes.
Tomorrow is both a gift and a surprise!
Hugs,
Panagiota Romios
California….USA
8/15/2022
~1~
by Jan Allison |
Categories:
moon, ocean,
I
love
walking
at midnight
as moonlight shadows
dance on the inky blue ocean
and watch as they sparkle and shimmer like tiny stars,
pirouetting gracefully like prima ballerinas with the ocean as their stage
9/3/19
Writing Challenge 1, September 2019 - Eight Line Form
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
Checked with PS Syllable counter 1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21
by Robert Lindley |
Categories:
art, friendship, meaningful, nature, symbolism, tree, writing,
RETREAT TO HEED OUR HONEST DEEDS
Two old oak trees weathered by winds and rain
with fallen leaves, branches and toughened bark
to shield a core of grandeur, and sustain
the wisdom borne to see the light from dark.
Two noble men aware of twilight time
both face evil world with courage and grace
Love and Nature gifts each, a life sublime
all standing with courage none can erase.
Each rooted within mother earth's great fold
weathering this world's darkest raging storms
images show lives lived regally and bold
tho' existing in weakened earthen forms.
With words of wisdom written in our seeds
we seek retreat to heed our honest deeds.
22nd June, 2018
T.J Grén & Robert Lindley
by Victor Buhagiar |
Categories:
writing,
If only I could write you a sonnet,
Iambic pentameter and what not,
Let my muse mull profoundly upon it.
I must write it quickly lest I forgot.
It will have to stress real passion, love,
Mention a rose if I really must
But for heaven's sake leave out the white dove,
Still do mention the red moon that I trust.
Compare her eyes to some fragrant flower,
And wish to taste her full strawberry lips,
Scheme to meet her in a quiet bower,
Clouds enfold us in mythical eclipse.
Will she come, will she go, my marigold?
Ah, my poor love sonnet has now gone cold.
POTD 14 September 2020
by Michelle Faulkner |
Categories:
lost, muse, writing,
These are the roads I didn't take
A pause too soon, a turn too late
Lost in the love I never spoke
The poems I never wrote
Gone are the moons I didn't chase
The sun-bloomed wind I didn't taste
The skylines I left incomplete
The stars I didn't seek
Muted are songs which may have brought
A silent music to my thoughts
Fading traces in dim sunsets
Autumns I never kept
Verses yet rise through foggy climes
Reveries of forgotten rhymes
If fractured light once more takes flight
I still have poems to write
10/07/22
by Akkina Downing |
Categories:
adventure, how i feel, life,
Because I do not know of my tomorrow
Yesterday is gone I've forgotten it
I but have today to know I exist
I resist letting my today be wasted on drama
I am out sipping on sunshine
Gliding on life
Dancing in the rain while drinking rain drops
Have my fill on ice cream till I'm well content
Smile because I just love life
Love every unloved one
Give and share
because it makes me feel absolutely wonderful
And when night comes I'm up eating chocolates
while writing poems of my life's adventure
Smile
Akkina R Downing
8-20-17
by Paul Callus |
Categories:
pain,
she stands beside the sea
a tear escapes, runs down her face
melancholy comes to embrace
the past won’t set her free
lost love decays without a trace
_______________________________
Contest: Writing Challenge 2 Lind68868
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Placed 1st
©18th May 2019
by Silent One |
Categories:
analogy, angst, poetry,
My heart resembles the fragility of a petal.
Blossoming behind metaphors within poetry.
The beauty is in the grandeur of their silence.
I portray my words for you to study my silence,
but you seem blind to how I'm wilting like a petal.
You always seem to believe it's the art of poetry.
Would you still love me if I stopped writing poetry.
Could you comprehend my timid tongue's silence,
so I bloom in your garden as an evergreen petal.
Seek my petal soul in poetry, beyond the silence.
by Emmanuel Samson |
Categories:
death, faith, imagination, lost love, love, nature, on writing and words, philosophy, sea, seasons, song-time,
Now my tendrilled soul,
Has found its pergola-- Christ--
To wind its way up....
by Jesse Zerlaut |
Categories:
imagery, poetry, writing,
I wrestle with my words in aimlessness when I write.
Poetry is a relationship to me, it's a troubled courtship.
I can't come to reasonable reform in words on the spot..
but rather seek intimacy with my thoughts in attempt.
The two of us, man and his romantic notions,
carelessly Laid into tousled affections on a page.
I love her, and the page, she spurns me willfully.
I love her, and grasp in hopelessness to understand her.
I give my undivided attention, my eyes wander her form.
I've sought shamelessly to appease her whispered desires.
But she is a selfish lover, asking for more than can be given.
She, the playful counterpart in a field of rationality, often eludes me.
by Phil Capitano |
Categories:
language, poetry,
Writing is dancing with words...
a titillating tango with verbs delicious...
a sultry waltz with rhythm and meter...
a hot rumba with randy adjectives...
a forbidden dance with unnamed nouns...
if this has not left you wanting more
then I shall dance with words no more.
Poetry is a pure passion play
of alliteration and words dancing in line,
a quick-stepping, twin-tapping salsa,
a seductive rhapsody in rhyme,
moving metaphors, measure and time…
my love is wrapped in this poetry
so will you please come dance with me?
by Jan Allison |
Categories:
i miss you, soulmate,
Dearest Darren I miss you oh so much
All I want is for you to be returned to good health
Romantic writes you penned so well
Ridiculous sense of humour we share
Emails flew between us faster than Concorde
No one could make me laugh the way you do
Wish I knew how you are doing my friend
All my love and prayers are sent to you
There will never be another to take your place
So much fun being your poetry partner
Oh what a blast we had writing as Jadazzle United
Never a day passes when I don’t think of you
01~31~15
by Arthur Vaso |
Categories:
funny, humor,
I wrote a poem of despair
My hearts been tossed up into the air
She wrote a limerick that was taboo
She made me laugh when I was so blue
Entering stage left was Tim
Writing of past lovers sins in a hymn
It seems that we laugh or we cry
We live, we love, or we die
The three of us, holding poetic swords up high
Throughout the ages we all do fly
No subject goes unspoken
For the freedom of words we've awoken
No battle to long or too fierce
Our duels are true and unrehearsed.
Through blood, sweat and tears
A bond so strong that sweetens the years
All for one and one for all
Let us carry on and have a ball!
by Audrey Haick |
Categories:
dedication, on writing and words
His talent as a Bard explodes
From an exquisite mind it flows
Through an instrument of script
Flooding parchment reverberating
Through the psyche creating waves
Reaching the far ends of the universe
Words of truth deep sentiment flourish
Propelling legitimate personal emotions
Giving due praise to brave loyal and true
To God nature his love and fellow Bards and
The magnificent highlands he loves so well
Always uplifting inspiring and sharing
Accept this tribute from an amateur a friend
With gratitude for reading commenting for
Being just who you are, The Highlander
by Maureen Mcgreavy |
Categories:
butterfly, funny love,
Butterflies have the quietest wings
Defying the weight of their flutterings
Your red face has shown
What you did not want known
Your fight to keep them from escaping
10.02.2019
Writing Challenge, October - Butterfly -
Sponsor, Dear heart - Wiishkobi Ode
by Tony Bush |
Categories:
art, inspirational, on writing and words, beauty, beauty,
All I see is beauty in the burning of her words,
The flickering of flames,
Constructs of fires licking at the night
From snow white sheets of dreaming.
The senses of her bleeding, ink and roses,
Sensual vibrancy,
Gliding rails streaming to the stars,
The links between the earth and heaven’s tide.
All I see is beauty in the visions of her art,
The tenderness of angels,
Architects of chapels wrought of lace,
An arbitrary grace of love.
The impressions of her breathing, saffron breath,
Exhaling of her soul,
Bestow of sleeping kisses to the lips,
Priestess of the mind and loin.
by Maureen Mcgreavy |
Categories:
destiny, sad,
She has become
that beautiful sadness
which has moved her
all her life
her intrigue
designing her destiny
writing the sorrowful song
which already plays
so deep
so beautiful
she knows
as sorrow blooms
from love alone
she is as she should be
the softest
sweetest
tragedy
circa 2005
by John Gondolf |
Categories:
encouraging, friend, friendship,
When darkness spreads across the land,
and storm clouds form above;
a friend will be there, outstretched hand,
and offer you their love.
They stand beside you through the dark,
and always without strings,
to help you make it ‘round the mark;
the wind beneath your wings.
Whenever doubt forms in my mind
my writing is sub-par;
with your encouragement I find
my muse becomes a star.
June 23, 2018
by Michael Alexander |
Categories:
inspiration, introspection,
This pen writes not a story,
but a life upon a page; its glory.
Love for the writing; the heart,
thumping, beat after beat, never apart.
Conceived of bones, the ash; this pen,
to ink bleeding veins, attached.
A cut, this scrap; of emotions peeled.
The scaring tissue; with Soul is healed.
Lightning arcs through nerve endings' link;
Dreams are sparks. Thoughts, the ink.
Not a story, but a life and a pen.
For this is a poet, his poem with no end.
by Gregory Richard Barden |
Categories:
introspection, poetry, sad, writing,
A gentle heart
So full of love
Yet no one feels
It's worthy of
Their admiration
Care or time
So I am left
To barter rhyme
Matching words
To arbitrate
The things I feel
Be love or hate
So others fawn
At what I pen
When deep inside
An endless end
Crafting prose
To coaxing sighs
While deep within ...
A slow demise.
by Barbara Gorelick |
Categories:
on writing and words
The Poet's Pen
Eternity awaits the poet's pen,
His essence sealed in golden words;
A message from the hearts of men.....
Life's pictures now, and then,
Days kept forever on his slate.
Eternity awaits the poet's pen....
Capturing the song of winter wrens,
And the wind on velvet branches.
A message from the hearts of men.....
The flowers in the shaded glen;
The fawn nestled in her bower.
Eternity awaits the poet's pen....
The stars abundance is his ken.
The moon's love of evening tide,
A message from the hearts of men...
Death will come yet once again,
To furl his banner of mortality.
But Eternity awaits the poet's pen,
A message from the hearts of men....
by Kenneth Fordham |
Categories:
angst, confusion, imagination, lost love, mystery, on writing and words, passion, sad
The Ink Bottle sits, alone,
It’s only Companions,
The Feathered Pen,
The Paper Pad.
The Desk, once alive,
The Words,
No longer,
Written.
Love, abandon,
But wanting not,
The Freedom,
It has.
A Wooden Chair, dusty,
Reclines not,
For the Comfort,
Once given.
Time, a mystery gone,
With passing,
Never to be recovered,
Longing.
Days of gloom, waiting,
Shine not, The Light,
The Heart,
Once brightened.
Come back, to Me,
My words, of Joy,
Of Laughter,
Wisdom, once known.
by John Watt |
Categories:
art, love,
Like a Seurat painting
I view my life up close
and see a million tiny colored dots:
eating breakfast
driving to work
writing a poem
watching television
playing a game
singing a song
going to the park on a Sunday afternoon
You view these dots
from the proper distance,
blend them together
with kind, generous eyes
and you see art
(an ekphrasis poem after the pointillism painting "A Sunday Afternoon
on the Island of La Grande Jatte", by Georges Seurat, 1886)
by White Wolf |
Categories:
inspiration, poetry, poets, writing,
If only for a moment our love bloomed,
If only for a spell we would consume.
My heart torn open I bear a deep wound,
To be thy Sun and you to be my Moon.
Alas, my dear, we were not meant to be,
For there is no future for us at all.
But, don't read into my words completely,
Because I still answer to nature's call.
Does a flower turn its petals away?
In the day when the Sun is out to shine?
For what is the reason that children play?
The reason that the poet writes his line?
We know deep inside, we all must take part,
And whatever that may be, do with heart!
by Susan Ashley |
Categories:
dark, longing, lost love, pain, passion, sad, sea,
No other choice
as my shadow schemes in the sand,
lone cries on lovelorn wings give grief heart’s voice
over scorned wedding band.
Sandcastles are crumbled in undertow’s deceit,
longing and revenge; a million grains ‘neath my feet.
Avenged by briny blue’s retreat,
illusions built too closely to tide’s edge rejoice.
Susan Ashley
June 14, 2019
~ Fourth Place ~
Contest: Writing Challenge, June 2019, Crumbling Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart