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POET
LAUREATES:
Elizabeth
Santos
N.G.
"Gary" Stapp
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PAGE
OF WHITE To
grasp the power of belief To
seek a dream, though worn with age The
visions etched in prism light The
beauty in the hills of green The
joy of love, the pain of loss To
lay your heart in morning's glow A
poem that speaks in depth and grace A
poem is made of words you sift --
Submitted by Elizabeth Santos from Pottstown,
PA
Editor's
Pick:
And scroll it on a golden leaf
For other souls to then behold
Is much more precious than the gold
Inscribing it on parchment page
Is but a gift of hope you give
To those who never learned to live
When written on a page of white
Bring rainbow colors to one's life
Enveloping the moment's strife
When placed upon a paper's sheen
Become alive, an Eden home
That flourishes beneath God's dome
That dwell within an inkwell's gloss
Are treasured words that cause a tear
To fall upon a listening ear
On crest of crystal virgin snow
Is but a dainty print that gleams
Of who you are or what it seems
That mirrors eyes and soul and face
Will find a harbor in the minds
Of all of those who've read your rhymes
Ethereal sands, a treasured gift
e-mail: mesantos1@comcast.net
She
digs inside my make-up drawer Upon
her cheeks she puts on rouge I
look at her and I wonder, Her
cheeks so fair and lips of pink, She
smiles wide with ruby lips, On
her, I see, her eyes of blue, I
close the drawer and wash her face, --
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina Dusk
in the dessert where quietness lies Sun
drops down slowly beyond mountain's ledge Skies
light the footpath of silvery sand So
very few flowers, yet beauty unfurled --
Submitted by Elizabeth Santos from Pottstown,
PA --
Submitted by Carra Wilmoth from Pearl, MS Little
one in my high heeled shoes; Don't
rush to climb inside my shoes; Sing
your silly, happy songs Wiggle,
wobble in my shoes, --
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina Billowing
mounds of ivory, --
Submitted by Katie Wilkinson from Mt. Prospect,
IL --
Submitted by Margy from New Orleans, LA I'd
love to write a sonnet just for you My
verse would soothe your mind and touch your
heart My
love for you cannot be scrolled in ink I
touch your face, your lips, your lovely hands --
Submitted by Elizabeth Santos from Pottstown,
PA Crisp
and white, the arctic snow The
snow will meet its maker, though --
Submitted by Leslie Prichard from Albuquerque,
NM Hello
Lucifer The
trouble is heavy Kick
back in comfort We
danced a dance I've
tortured myself Lucifer
glowed The
need inside you The
bargain was struck What
of the angel --
Submitted by Angelfire from Lumberton, TX The
blue and grey of yesterday The
mist is slowly rolling I
struggle to breathe freely Who
are these men Something
dark inside me The
world is moving forward I
see them there together Friend,
Foe or Enemy The
connection that always lingers --
Submitted by Angelfire from Lumberton, TX It
has the ringing echo of a bell. Its'
quality is that of a carousel. One
can introduce the spirituel The
message of this form one can foretell. Like
the terza rima or rondel, If
this poetry is authored well, --
Submitted by Andrea Dietrich from Pleasant Grove,
Utah I
awoke! I didn't know if I'd been asleep; --
Submitted by Vic Fenton from Empangeni, South
Africa Rain
falling in your eyes Looking
around at the world you know When
I look at you I
can't stand here holding you hand I
want to take you away --
Submitted by Ashley Crofts from SaltLakeCity,
Utah Crimson,
Terra-Cotta, Burnt sienna Tigers
back drop, papaya flesh Puker
all one can do, beyond tangy Nature,
freely living displays itself Saddness
we all reffer to often as blue --
Submitted by Phoenix from North Fort Myers, FL Savor
Peppery Black --
Submitted by Phoenix from North Fort Myers, FL Up
on top a mountain, over looking a running
brook, I
can hear the sound of the running brook as it flows
ore the rocks, A
little log cabin up on the mountain top, brook
running below, --
Submitted by Gloria Lee Sarasin from Trinity,
NC A
jaded refraction of the scene, Parents
great and greater saw the wonder, --
Submitted by Edward J Page from Pickering, Ont.,
Canada Cultivated
eloquence, Can
bring a tear to surface The
grace of hand in writing Some
spoken words of noted men --
Submitted by Elizabeth Santos from Pottstown,
PA Before
a foot had tread upon Before
the song of lark was heard It
was an inner dialogue Hushed
voices swept the eastern wind The
sweetest phrase, the joy of rhyme Not
every spirit reaps the bliss A
fragile phrase, the loveliest, There
is an unknown slumbering rhyme --
Submitted by Elizabeth Santos from Pottstown,
PA A
candle casts a flickering light My
eyes are drawn, not to the flame As
long as candle wick will last To
silent music shadows prance I've
become like one of them My
eye in hypnotizing stare A
tragic figure I must be It's
but a dreamer's vivid mind When
fire consumed the waxy wick In
early glow of rising sun --
Submitted by Elizabeth Santos from Pottstown,
PA
ALMOST GROWN
And claims she's almost grown.
Only three, this little one,
Heartaches of life as yet unknown.
And paints her lips a shade of red,
She views herself and says she's pretty
And then she jumps up on my bed.
Was I ever, like her, so young?
Did, I too, say I am pretty,
As on the bed, like her, I flung?
She has, for now, no need of paint.
Into my world she wants to go,
She thinks it's something that it ain't.
And claims, that now, she looks like me.
I smile at her and then I wonder;
What it is she views that I can't see.
On me, I see, my mousy brown.
I see her face so soft and smooth,
While my own, more like a clown.
Returning her to a child of three;
I kiss her cheek and head out to play,
With the dog and Heather and me.
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
Indigo blue under lavender skies
Young Golden Eagle in breeze of the night
Last beams of sunlight on wings edged in
white
The last golden beams fanning out from the edge
Canyon is silent, the heavens are strewn
With bright little stars and a glorious
moon
That changes at dawn to the color of tan
And morning will also bring joy to the eyes
Mountains of purple beneath crimson
skies
In this ever surprisingly colorful world
I walked in the dessert, alone in the sand
God stood there beside me with paintbrush in
hand
e-mail: mesantos1@comcast.net
because I'm bored
needing to see
black ink
on these sheets
the connection between
head and heart
outlayed
for all to peer and wonder about
their opinions are voiced
as if I have no ears
or wits with which to understand
their words
they criticize
and belittle
yet
they themselves will not dare
to put their soul on display
they will not
tear a hunk of themselves away
and give it to all
who might need a piece
so that they themselves might find
a little
peace
words have a rhythm
all their own
they fall
where they choose
how we feel
determines
how we write
determines
what you feel
now do you see?
connection
black ink
white sheets
e-mail: mscriquet@aol.com
She wants to play all grown.
Oh, precious one, don't move so fast;
It's not fun, this being grown.
Stay within your child's world,
It isn't fun to be all grown;
Don't cross into my world.
And stay a child for a little while;
Let me hear your sounds of laughter
And on your face your happy smile.
I'm glad that they don't fit;
Come and climb upon my lap
And let me cuddle you a bit.
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
Trace imaginary skylines,
Floating in a world created by their own.
Pure white masks gray,
Pinks and oranges cover navy,
Shifting, changing, colliding in space.
Massive works of God's clay,
Continually mold into figures of
Clowns, rabbits, or whales driving cars.
They are foreboding parents hiding the world
From the glittering celestial bodies.
Refreshing the earth with calming mists,
They drizzle down to reincarnate growth.
Suddenly pounding at the window,
Acknowledging their anger and unleashing their
wrath,
Until the emotions drain, leaving only puddles
Of the past to be sloshed through.
Muddy filaments of joy and relocation.
Troublesome spots that force me to acknowledge
That I am moving too fast,
And noticing too little.
e-mail: dusty_sparkle@bolt.com
from the meadow at dawn
shaking dust of moonbeams
from their wings.
e-mail: markeybird@cox.net
To tell you of the love within my keep
Some gentle phrases just to see you through
Another night of soft and peaceful sleep
So sweet would be the words that I'd employ
From out my pen would tenderly depart
The most enchanting wishes for your joy
Nor would it fit within a sonnet's phrase
So sad it is to love you and to think
My words must still remain a misty haze
So tiny yet, too young to understand
e-mail: mesantos1@comcast.net
it takes its journey without a sound
A blanket on the world it makes
that hushes noise throughout the streets
A time to sit and think a while
as the snow begins to pile.
brings smiles to those young and old
Then the wind will whip the air
and snow will circle everywhere
Flying up to where it came
then gently falling down again.
when the sun sends out its glow
We watch it melt and float away
only to come another day
When winter's kiss gives it life
and once again we're blessed with white.
EMAIL: twplaw@sprynet.com
Nice to see you again
Things haven't changed much
How have you been
I'm glad you came calling
We need to talk
I've tried everything else
You're my last thought
It weighs on my mind
I've carried this burden
For such a long time
The things that I tell you
I'm sure that you know
Hey, it's my nickel
One monkey wants stop this show
Light up a smoke
This is my life
With all of its ghosts
Their once was an angel
That I chanced to meet
She rocked my world
She shattered my peace
Not knowing it was death
From that moment forward
She was my quest
Now I realize, I finally see
She wasn't real
Just a dammed fantasy
Plus the ones that I love
It's time to let go now
To just give up
She yours now, Lucifer
I give her to you
The soul of an angel
Out of the blue
Said with a grin
The soul of an angel
Too good to win
In return for this angel
I'll give you a child
Flesh, blood and bone
To hold for a while
Will not be filled
Yet for awhile it will be
Quite silent and still
If you meet this angel
It never can be
The soul of this angel
You trade to me
The trade made
The soul of an angel
Lost that day
Yet neither one asked her
What she thought or felt
Just took what they wanted
The cards were dealt
Who never knew
I fear she got hell
Because she loved you
e-mail: Angelfire67@msn.com
Still haunt the red hills of clay
The blood moon rises slowly
Stained forever with the names
Born here in this agony
Lived in tortured pain
Over battle fields and graves
Blood, pain and glory
Is all that can remain
The screams of the dying
Echo in my brain
My senses on alert
What draws me
To this deadly ground
What makes my heartbeat hurt
These children
Of this useless war
That sleeps in phantom slumber
To laugh, to sing no more
Trembles, I go weak
As the past gathers round me
Daybreaks I can't speak
Beginning to come alive
Yet I am trapped and haunted
By a past I can't deny
The blue and the grey
As they hold their breath in silence
Alone, afraid to pray
Death waits in the sunlight
As the blood moon fades away
Father, Brother, Sons
Defending their precious honor
The cause to which they were born
Between the living and the dead
Is the mist that walks around me
Is the raging in my head
e-mail: Angelfire67@msn.com
The words at each line's end must reconcile.
How I love the lovely villanelle.
Jean Passaerat of France defined its syle.
It has the ringing echo of a bell.
Or emphasize what he finds most worthwhile.
How I love the lovely villanelle.
Its' poets must to litany be servile.
It has the ringing echo of a bell.
Its' manner centuries past was given trial.
How I love the lovely villanelle.
oftentimes to hear it makes me smile.
It has the ringing echo of a bell.
How I love the lovely villanelle.
e-mail: Pandie55@hotmail.com
I couldn't remember anything at all.
Where was I? Who was I? I started to weep
At my inability to recall.
I looked around, and as far as I could see
Rolling meadows flowed like a sea of green,
And lying, amidst the flowers, next to me
A creature I had never seen.
I felt no fear and, in a very strange way,
I experienced a deep rooted affinity,
As if I had known it not just that day
But far back, into infinity.
At some distance I could see rivers flowing
Amidst tall reeds and clumps of fruit trees
And a gentle breeze was lazily blowing
Cooling the land by degrees.
Further afield strange forms moved about
In an aura of peace and tranquility
And, but for the occasional screech or shout,
They look'd content and carefree.
Above, the heavens seemed permanently set.
A lacy, misty canopy reflected the sunlight,
And like a translucent, shadowy net,
Kept away the dark of night.
I gazed in awe at this wondrous landscape,
A scene as close to perfection as it could ever
get,
Where beauty and serenity would never escape,
And dreams and reality met.
And as I pondered how this wonder came to be
The creature stirred, sighed and turned over,
And stretched its arms, slowly, towards me
As if to say "be my lover".
As our eyes met I felt a deep, bubbling emotion
That rose and took over my heart and mind;
A feeling so warm and replete with devotion
I never thought I could find.
For a brief moment, which felt like an
eternity,
As we gazed at each other I knew deep inside
That I would forever lack in full potentiality
If I didn't have it at my side.
And then I heard a gentle voice from above
Which told me: "This creature to you I now give
For you to cherish, protect, and hold in love.
You are Adam ... She is Eve".
e-mail: mwfenton@iafrica.com
Drifting down to the ground
A pond gathers at your feet
As you stand there and drown
How many hurtful things that blur your way
You want to just stand there dying
Then fight the hurt away
I see past the tears you cry
I see how bright your spirit is
And how much love you keep inside
And watch you drown
So I will pick you up
And walk you across the pond
From all the hurt you feel
There are so many wonderful things
Waiting for us on the other side of the
water
e-mail:
silverstar_182@hotmail.com
Decorative Henna for Brides of India
the deepest depths of classic red wines
blood looks like this when oxidized
heat, passion, love, danger
with all we've been much familiar
will appear as yellow and red do mesh
Halloween ambiance, pumpkins and such
reminds me of youth's fun and sillyness
sugars opposite as ying is to yangy!
as sun lights the world for most of its day
so lemon to all senses, so toes must wear
shades
lending its folige and healers for health.
Grasshoppers, wisunaubi, and kelp,
these all the color of wealth
exciting when revlon carries this hue
our most discriptive of discribers second to
black,
see: blue skies, blue eyes, bluest oceans, I feel
blue. . .
It represents baby boy, it's calm tranquil and
cool.
e-mail: Shammah2000@hotmail.com
Inhale green,
Dream in Blue
Lick Purple,
Let lime green make you smile.
Wear dark chocolate brown
Admire Gray--statues are gray.
Chew Pink Cotton Candy
and Bubblicious Bubble Gum
Tremble in a thick,
Shadowy Midnight forest at dark,
Then stand in awe at the same forest at
dusk.
e-mail: Shammah2000@hotmail.com
a little log cabin stands alone, smoke billowing
through the pines.
I envision sitting there before a burning fire,
eyes closed in dreams.
The simple life with only calm and solace in my
soul.
the sound of a chickadee responding to an owl's
screech.
In my vision, I can see an old rocking chair, and
yes, there's me,
my crocheting in my lap and a kitten at my feet, I
rock and rock.
this peaceful vision, I will never see, nor that
rocker be me.
Muted colors of browns, orange and greens, with
splashes of blue,
this painting on my wall is the closest to that
life I will see.
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
A stained glass window in the hall,
Sunlight drifting through the two,
Moon light sparkles, amber, green and blue.
Imaginary images in the mind are seen,
A kaleidoscope of ancestral apperations,
A conjuring of past fear and
superstitions.
On lesser days, nights, lightening and thunder.
The stained glass window holds transparence,
The green crystal will silent ever be
e-mail: joepage@sympatico.ca
the soft and velvet prose,
delicately wrapped
as sculptured petals of a rose
with the beauty of a phrase
as did the chimes of lyric voices
heard in former days
that most celebrated speech
are heights to which the tentacles
of scholars seldom reach
are twitterings of birds.
From the mouths of babes and poets
come the most enchanting words
e-mail: mesantos1@comcast.net
the green of grass, the edge of pond
Before a lover had been kissed
a poem already did exist
Sweet lyrics swirled around a bird
A phrase of beauty lightly dwelt
in summer breezes yet unfelt
with nature's song, the voice of God,
that would in gentle phrases part
from chambers of a poet's heart
with murmurs of a sacred hymn
inspiring a poet's hand
to scroll a psalm in powdered sand
were waiting on the fringe of time
for fingered words to set them free
unleashing echoes of the sea
of snowflake's soft and icy kiss
Nor soaks in splendors of a dream
that bathes the eyes in sights unseen
lies just beneath the morning mist,
transparent wings of butterfly
unfolding in a poet's eye
that waits to toll its lyric chime
There is a silent mystic phrase
in winds of autumn's crimson days
e-mail: mesantos1@comcast.net
Upon my empty page of white
A lonely trembling paper stage
Where phantoms dance across the page
But images within a frame
of shadow dancing silhouettes,
Small figurines in pirouettes
The wavering flame will kindly cast
these ballet ghosts as they rehearse
on stage intended for a verse
To silent dreams the spirits dance
in quivering light of candle's glow
they spin and waver to and fro
A twisting figure with a pen
A lonely heart in midnight moon
Twirling to a silent tune
At dancing feet that aren't there
Enchanted with the swirling caper
Staged upon my sheet of paper
To think these shadows part of me
My own dilusions place the blame
On dancing glimmers of a flame
Imagination's stewing brine
that stirs the melting taper's tears
into a dance that now appears
the phantoms of the candlestick
vanished into midnight's dark
'til dawning sound of meadow lark
I saw what dancing flames had done
In every spot a foot was placed
a ballerina's slipper traced
her swirling marks across the stage
and etched this poem upon my page
e-mail: mesantos1@comcast.net
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