A poem a Day

[SoulofChrysamere]

My head nestles gently in the crook

 

Of the pillow as I quit my book.

 

The day's events rage through my mind

 

Invoking stresses of every kind.

 

But then a calm creeps o'er my soul

 

That defies the daily mental toll.

 

As I feel for the covers 'round my feet,

 

The candle produces a fragrance sweet.

 

My fingers pull up the soft linen

 

And it gently caresses my skin.

 

My hand reaches out and turns the switch

 

To blot out the light-maintaining witch.

 

Then my eyelids become as lead

 

And I, curled up in my comfy bed,

 

Slowly drift off to a peaceful land

 

Where I'll relax on the beach's sand.

[LordWushin]

Very good piece, Chrysamere. True to life in perfect detail.

 

White as snow falling from the sky,

Cold as ice the wind passes by.

Not able to see but a couple feet,

All the white and ice beauty neat.

 

Sun covered by the clouds,

Sound of snow so loud.

Not going to town,

In the winter wonder I will drown.

 

But nothing will keep me from you.

No snow or ice or shilling wind.

In the mist of all of this I see you.

You looked at me and happily grinned.

[Maharg67]

Continues to be good, LordWushin. :thumbsup:

 

Very good, SoulofChrysamere. :thumbsup:

[grannywils]

Have I ever gazed upon a face more glorious

eyes more telling, lips so impossible

Have I ever known a heart more pure

known such sweet laughter, such blissful promise

 

This puzzle haunts me, this angel taunts me.

 

Have I always been so far from you...

 

 

[Maharg67]

excellent poem, grannywils

 

 

 

THE ROAD TO MY HEART

 

IS MADE OF ROSES

 

COMPLETE WITH SHARP THORNS

 

BUT REPLETE WITH THE PROMISE

 

OF SWEET SCENTED PERFUME

Edited March 27, 2011 by Maharg67

[SoulofChrysamere]

Here's another one that I've written in my spare time.

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The old stone tower in the glade over yonder

 

Now wrapped in vines and foliage thick,

 

Looks wistfully toward the west, ever fonder,

 

Against the sun as a candle's wick.

 

 

 

The blocks are cracked and scratched and gray.

 

The gate is brown with the rust of years.

 

The windows frown more each passing day

 

As the crumbling spire sheds stony tears.

 

 

 

As it looks to the west, it does heavily mourn

 

And remembers the centuries now long past.

 

It longs for the banners its crown did adorn

 

And the battles from which its life was cast.

 

 

 

It recalls the generals it used to hold

 

And the catapults and ballistas it once housed,

 

And the armies of men both young and old

 

That when off duty, merrily caroused.

 

 

 

It relives the charges it stared in the face

 

And hears the shrieks of terror and rage,

 

And sees the men as its doors they brace

 

And each knight barking orders to his page.

 

 

 

It looks on the trebuchets in yonder field

 

And the rows of soldiers that lie in front.

 

It calls each defender to raise his shield

 

And the enemy's power swiftly blunt.

 

 

 

As boulders rain on the mighty tower,

 

The soldiers run to try and scale its walls.

 

More claw their way up each passing hour,

 

But most are only met with lethal falls.

 

 

 

As the burning day faded, the foes took flight

 

And fled from the staunch defenders' blades

 

As from their proud bastion's battered heights,

 

They watched them disappear from the glades.

 

 

 

The tower hears the happy shouts of the boys

 

And seems them rejoicing and celebrating,

 

And feels the collective reliefs and joys

 

Of them, all of them fiercely resonating.

 

 

 

But then it all fades and falls away

 

And nothing is left but what was there

 

When the flashback first led back to those days...

 

When there were some who appeared to care.

 

 

 

As I continue gazing upon its frame,

 

Topped by a gently shining sun,

 

Wreathed in blue but still professing shame,

 

I can see its life will likely soon be done.

 

 

 

The old stone tower in the glade over there

 

Now overgrown with vegetation and moss,

 

Still finds some sympathy with me who shares

 

Its longing for the past that's now but a loss.

 

 

 

As I gather up my things, I say, "Farewell."

 

To the edifice that now looks at me

 

As if it longs to tell me of its seeing hell,

 

But depressed that it's unable to speak.

[LordWushin]

Oh wow, that was excellent work everyone. Kudos to you all!!!

 

I am burnt out right now, nothing is working. Maybe later this week I will have something.

[LordWushin]

Here we go,

 

Through the woods I am walking

With myself talking

Listening for the sign

Of my lovers knocking

 

Hearing the music

Direction I pick

To uncover the fine

Face, of which I'll never be sick

 

Sneaking up behind

I look and find

She that is mine

So beautiful and kind

[LordWushin]

Its all coming back, fast!

 

Ode to Her

Oh the beauty I dream of every night

I can never have her out of my mind

Not that I try, no I embrace it

Like a virus that keeps popping up

But I leave it to control my heart

 

Hair that I wish I had (check my profile)

Make the face more irresistible

Those eyes burning into my soul

I feel it in my very core of cores and love it

Her pale skin whiter than snow

Begs me to touch it, yet I resist for her sake

The voice, I can't hear another

I know it and want it more and more

Attitude that make me alive

Challenges me to think aloud and oddly

Curves that I would die for, read again

And she knows I would in a heart beat

 

Oh how did I get myself here

How does she stay with me so

I have done nothing but one talk

And she won't leave, because I need her

Because she needs me

We need each other

We are perfect

She is perfect

Her perfection

Her for me

Her and me

All her

 

:wub: HER!

Edited April 1, 2011 by LordWushin

[LordWushin]

I open the door to see

What lies beyond

Things that may be

Of things I am fond

 

Need to have faith and hope

That I will be able

With my troubles cope

To rid of our fable

 

Once these are done

And you do the same

You and I can have

The same last name