Poetry dances.com
Great Poems and Great Writers Discovered Everyday..
submitted poetry
Based on information provided to us the poems below are the copyrighted property of the individual writers shown. Please see our disclaimer and terms of use document.
shelf 3
- I, Empress Enigma Lady Gray
- Immortal Poet Lady Gray
- To me Holly White Valliant
- Dancer in the Wind Claudia Anne Krizay
I, Empress Enigma by Lady Gray
Broach, be brusque for the begrime brigands seek billet, babble not, banter or barter the battalion.
I, beckon buoyant benevolent brethren.
Flamboyant nay not falter but fancy in fallacy, feeding fidelity into fellowship.
Fare thee well in fearless fashion, fathom freedom.
I, of a fiendish façade, whom frighten and frolic in fixation furthermore.
Cited is the creed of thy covenant, counseled and clandestine.
Clemency of cognizance, cede thy caste.
I, convey cryptic captivating conquests to the chasm.
Mischief and mirth misrepresent a melee in monomania mutiny.
Menagerie of martyrs, meander in misfortunes.
I, mock the moderator in morbid and murky marrow.
Pacify pain, parlay passion, a plea as I plague thee.
Here lies the preamble of a prophetic prodigious partisan.
I, probe the prosaic and pummel the predominant whom are prejudice and precarious.
Shelter spirits, shield the Sacred Sage at storms savage strength.
Siege the skeptics, slaughter steadfast in sightless slumber.
I, sovereign sorcery in somatic stigmas, stipulating under subterfuge.
I, empower equity envision exodus for the emissaries as they encumber, emancipate and endure.
For I, eloquent and eccentric, enslave and engrave thee eyes of thy ecclesiastical enemy.
I, Empress Enigma ensue in endless echoes.
Immortal Poet by Lady Gray
Tales of mayhem bewitch these creative eccentric beings.
Entwined tales unfold and some unimagined sooth to say of life.
Casting characters out of desolate imagery and solace.
A perilous journey, a destined venture awaits, divinity becomes strife.
The subconscious can say and do many a thing, where upon . . .
Hence forth a waning moon.
What may seem so eventful soon set forth-dangerous liaisons.
Their lives may not seem so inviting in comparison to the masters of the Portal.
The pain simmers, engulfing, digesting the mirrored mental immortal.
A moonlight sonata chimes across the piano keys, of where, oh when.
Why, what more could there be in their somber sensory faculty but the whispers of Zen.
Absinthe relinquishes their spoken word.
Opium and Laudanum seeks the destination of their thoughts.
The tears of the vagrant heart cry out and so wish to be heard.
Truly, it is their darkest unbound fear to be sought.
Doth the way, of this haunting creature, this vivacious poet piety.
Gentlemanly mannered, distinguished and literally accepted by an underground society.
Their refuge lies within the ink drops of a Raven's quill.
And here is where intelligent minds consummate the hinder most creeping chill.
Once the poets heart lies within its chamber, settled silently still;
The beating commences when they embody and embrace, perishing of their own will.
Immortal Poet by Lady Gray
Tales of mayhem bewitch these creative eccentric beings.
Entwined tales unfold and some unimagined sooth to say of life.
Casting characters out of desolate imagery and solace.
A perilous journey, a destined venture awaits, divinity becomes strife.
The subconscious can say and do many a thing, where upon . . .
Hence forth a waning moon.
What may seem so eventful soon set forth-dangerous liaisons.
Their lives may not seem so inviting in comparison to the masters of the Portal.
The pain simmers, engulfing, digesting the mirrored mental immortal.
A moonlight sonata chimes across the piano keys, of where, oh when.
Why, what more could there be in their somber sensory faculty but the whispers of Zen.
Absinthe relinquishes their spoken word.
Opium and Laudanum seeks the destination of their thoughts.
The tears of the vagrant heart cry out and so wish to be heard.
Truly, it is their darkest unbound fear to be sought.
Doth the way, of this haunting creature, this vivacious poet piety.
Gentlemanly mannered, distinguished and literally accepted by an underground society.
Their refuge lies within the ink drops of a Raven's quill.
And here is where intelligent minds consummate the hinder most creeping chill.
Once the poets heart lies within its chamber, settled silently still;
The beating commences when they embody and embrace, perishing of their own will.
To me by Holly White Valliant
You are worth more than all the gold in the mountains and the oceans
to me;
Every tree, every branch, every wind calls your name to me.
You are the ships that sail to me;
The courageous and the brave to me.
You are all the Kings and the
The best and brightest in all the land to me.
You are the birds that sing in the trees to me;
You are the most radiant flower that blooms in the finest garden to me.
Your warmth is more soothing than all the blankets to me;
Your touch more tender and precious than any child's smile to me.
You shine brighter than all the stars in the skies to me;
The stars in the heavens only wisht hey could be like thee.
You are the sun. You are the moon,
Whether near or far to me.
You are the galaxies that dance and whirl to me;
As they explode, shape and grow becoming all that is life to me.
You are the prayers the gods provide;
You soothe the pain and inspire from inside.
Your love, your trust, your gentleness, your hope;
All that is good in the world, embodied in one soul to me.
These things you will ever be to me.
For my husband, my friend, you are all the world to me.
To me by Holly White Valliant
You are worth more than all the gold in the mountains and the oceans
to me;
Every tree, every branch, every wind calls your name to me.
You are the ships that sail to me;
The courageous and the brave to me.
You are all the Kings and the
The best and brightest in all the land to me.
You are the birds that sing in the trees to me;
You are the most radiant flower that blooms in the finest garden to me.
Your warmth is more soothing than all the blankets to me;
Your touch more tender and precious than any child's smile to me.
You shine brighter than all the stars in the skies to me;
The stars in the heavens only wisht hey could be like thee.
You are the sun. You are the moon,
Whether near or far to me.
You are the galaxies that dance and whirl to me;
As they explode, shape and grow becoming all that is life to me.
You are the prayers the gods provide;
You soothe the pain and inspire from inside.
Your love, your trust, your gentleness, your hope;
All that is good in the world, embodied in one soul to me.
These things you will ever be to me.
For my husband, my friend, you are all the world to me.
Dancer in the Wind Fragile branches and
Delicate yellow budding blossoms,
Petals cascading copiously,
Always tearful,
Like falling rain,
At times, a deluge…
She fears a raging storm on a summer's night.
On a spring day you shall
Meet her, as she gently sways
In a zephyr breeze,
Each and every branch, intertwining
Reaching out for solace and
Grasping for any chance at love.
All of the warmth she carries in her
Heart of silver
Melts the snow that covers the ground
She becomes a stark barren tree- though strong,
Bleak against the sky of Prussian blue
Mesmerized by nature's wiles,
She remains scarred for life.
If I could only pick one branch,
I would fondle it lovingly, and would
Embrace it as if it were some innocent child, and
Kiss its supple petals,
Only to comfort her, as I whisk away the dewdrops which
Fell from heaven and settled upon her leaves in the very early morning.
Perhaps if one is quiet, one may find this tree
Dancing gracefully in an early spring's draft
As she reaches out with her fragile branches, and
Upward towards the sky,
Only to capture a glimmer of warmth from the sun
That would dry her tears in less than an instant,
So that she may become strong enough to
Become the ruler of the forest
Never fearing a summer's storm,
Neither a winter's blizzard would cause her to fall, for
She would have become the most striking tree in all of the woods.
She would welcome every season with utmost joy,
Swaying in the wind but never falling.
Some day she would grow taller than the evergreens,
Queen of the backwoods, giving shade to the deer and any passers by, and
Generously offering her branches as a place for robins to nest.
Someday you may become stronger as did this tree,
Once lost and fearful, but now strong enough to nurture the children of this world,
Crying only tears of happiness, sought by others for guidance or
Just for a little love so pure and simple,
Reaching out with open arms having so much to give,
To catch a sunbeam in your hands
To dry the tears of everyone who follows you
To never fall, not even against the most powerful winter's squall,
Contrasting so beautifully against that sky of Prussian blue
Mesmerized by nature's wiles,
Those scars could possibly disappear.
Catch in your cupped hands every raindrop and every dewdrop that falls, for
There is no shame in crying, as
Tears have been known to cleanse and strengthen the soul, and
As every season comes and goes, as does that special tree,
You shall stand steadfast against any storm, regardless of the season,
You will keep on dancing in the wind…
Fragile branches and Delicate yellow budding blossoms, Petals cascading copiously, Always tearful, Like falling rain, At times, a deluge… She fears a raging storm on a summer's night. On a spring day you shall Meet her, as she gently sways In a zephyr breeze, Each and every branch, intertwining Reaching out for solace and Grasping for any chance at love. All of the warmth she carries in her Heart of silver Melts the snow that covers the ground She becomes a stark barren tree- though strong, Bleak against the sky of Prussian blue Mesmerized by nature's wiles, She remains scarred for life. If I could only pick one branch, I would fondle it lovingly, and would Embrace it as if it were some innocent child, and Kiss its supple petals, Only to comfort her, as I whisk away the dewdrops which Fell from heaven and settled upon her leaves in the very early morning. Perhaps if one is quiet, one may find this tree Dancing gracefully in an early spring's draft As she reaches out with her fragile branches, and Upward towards the sky, Only to capture a glimmer of warmth from the sun That would dry her tears in less than an instant, So that she may become strong enough to Become the ruler of the forest Never fearing a summer's storm, Neither a winter's blizzard would cause her to fall, for She would have become the most striking tree in all of the woods. She would welcome every season with utmost joy, Swaying in the wind but never falling. Some day she would grow taller than the evergreens, Queen of the backwoods, giving shade to the deer and any passers by, and Generously offering her branches as a place for robins to nest. Someday you may become stronger as did this tree, Once lost and fearful, but now strong enough to nurture the children of this world, Crying only tears of happiness, sought by others for guidance or Just for a little love so pure and simple, Reaching out with open arms having so much to give, To catch a sunbeam in your hands To dry the tears of everyone who follows you To never fall, not even against the most powerful winter's squall, Contrasting so beautifully against that sky of Prussian blue Mesmerized by nature's wiles, Those scars could possibly disappear. Catch in your cupped hands every raindrop and every dewdrop that falls, for There is no shame in crying, as Tears have been known to cleanse and strengthen the soul, and As every season comes and goes, as does that special tree, You shall stand steadfast against any storm, regardless of the season, You will keep on dancing in the wind…
