Tag Archives: poems

Snow Day

White flakes silence the world

Muffled in a blanket of cold

Heat cries in dismay.

Crunching footsteps

High pitched laughter

Flying balls find their hysterical targets.

Icy fingers purpling

Breath now heavy

Time to find the noise and warmth again.

Extract from My Poetry Book

A blast from the past for this Friday. Poetry from My Poetry Book, available from http://lulu.com/spotlight/eloisedesousa

Thoughts by Mello-Elo

At the edge of our memories and just within sight
Our dreams hover like butterflies on a hazy day
Each step you take to get closer, within reach of the light
These butterflies just dance away.
I watch as each dream flies so slight, playing with the wind and my hair
I see a gun pointed and a shot ring out
Another dream has died in that way.

Push forward you are told and your dreams will come true
Who lied and gave us a false path?
For as you push forward in the future, along tags your past
You will find you’re stuck in the same place.
A stagnant pool that simmers and sighs,
Watching the butterflies dance above it.
You can wait and cry, but it will not change anything.
That is the way life will always stay.

I sit in my play pool, watching the water splash;

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Gathered in Requiem

Crows huddle in their blackened shrouds

A treasured box of bones to behold

With fluttered wings they flounce and flow

Their lives tethered to stringed souls

 

Council leads the ghastly meet

The murder sing songs of fading remembrance

A requiem soliloquy so carefully laid

Words delivering life’s sweet vengeance

 

Wet beaks and muttered parochial verse

The only sustenance offered

As washed out eyes take in the scene

A memory of love once suffered

 

Lowly clouds gather above

Witness to one more ending

The ebb of life once fast and free

To heaven or Hades, now sending

 

 

Copyright held by Eloise De Sousa (2017)

 

Kennings At Monday Coffee

Have you ever heard of a Kennings poem? Continue reading

Saturday

Raise your cup with me

Avoid the green spittoon

For dancing full of glee

We forget under the seduction of the moon
Raise your cup with me

Fair Sporalls of the night

The whiff of hoof and wee

Forgotten and out of sight
Raise your cup with me

Ye fair maidens with hidden gems

Gents fall at your long toenailed feet

Bidden by the temptress to rise again
Raise your cup with me

Hairy hollers to the divine

As we frolic beneath her beams

And succumb to music and wine

Weekly Poetry Challenge

Colleen, the Fairy Whisperer, has shared her weekly poetry challenge, which is open to everyone. 

“Welcome to my contribution to my Weekly Poetry Challenge, where you can write your own Haiku, Tanka, or Haibun using the prompt words of “soar and wait.” Colleen Chesebro, The Fairy Whisperer 

This week, I thought I would dabble with tanka poetry for my contribution.

Following the instructions I have created my tanka using the 5-7-5-7-7 rhythm and the prompt from above: soar and wait.

My Soul


Give it a try and leave your links in the comments or on Colleen’s post. 


Sunset romance

A fragile as glass
Heartbeats slowing
As shadows run past

Twighlight’s fever
Purple bruises so dear
The pain of living
In love’s final sphere

Dusk is moaning
Orange passion now gone
Blues are holding
Vigil over love’s song

Night creeps over
The warmth of the sun
Ink is spreading
Love’s colours have run

Is It Time?

Brush the crumbs from your surly face

Wipe the sweat from your brow

Tear the bands of disgrace

Is it time to say good-bye?
Wash your hands filled with regret

Stain the sheets back to white

One less moment to be discreet

Is it time to say good-bye?
Release my hand before you go

Tell the loved ones your surprise

Herald out to all those you know

If you think it’s time to say good-bye
I will stand here in the sand

Watching time tick by

Fading bit by bit as each day  washes away

Wishing I had the strength to say good-bye
As we sit and share this last meal

Heating ourselves on loves’ dying embers 

Memories locked on our current world of fantasy

As we both finally say good-bye

Thursday Thoughts

Image

Book Tuesday

I may not be a Book Thief

As I watch the bloodied sands

Of time connecting destiny

To the evil of man,

A Girl On A Train may be the last face

I see this mournful night.
As we bid farewell to the children,

Their future now in hindsight,

A wishful dream of peace lays derelict

As I count the grains and cry.