My Court is a battle
As a Queen, I will endure
so my kingdom thrives

Standing in gardens
My treasure trove of colours
that never fails me

Flowers bow gently
The winds make the tall trees sing
Rivers flow calmly

Scents drift in the light
I hear its sweet melody
As I stand with pride

A Queen now enters
The daughter of Spring and Deer
The tender Queen Fawn

Who smiles so sweetly
Fragrant, soft-spoken and kind
With deer by her side

Another Queen comes
The angel with a kind heat
The gentle Queen Sue

Who has healed her wounds,
broken her chrysalis
And spreads her warm light

Another Queen comes
Wise and soon to be married
Joyful Queen Donna

Who goes with the flow
A talented haikuist
with a flower crown

Another Queen comes
She who is always giving
The giving Queen Kim

Whose crown's a halo
And her words, so spiritual
fragrant and calming

Another Queen comes
Who has birds singing so sweet
The sweet Queen Robin

Who is a true joy
Whose words are just like music
A kindred spirit

And now a King comes
Who is very much like me
The great King Omni

Who is an artist
Who is both seen and unseen
Very much like me

Another King comes
Ever so mischieveous
The playful King Paul

Such a playful tease
He who makes me smile and laugh
And looks out for me

Another King comes
His heart is strong and tender
The wise King Edmund

Who writes for himself
Speaks so well of others and
how vital love is

To these Kings and Queens
Thank you for your melodies
You are golden souls

For now I do see
The true power of my quill
My ink is gold too

I write out my life
My pain, my fears and my loves
And my achievements

I must stay above
I will walk with my head up
and ignore the bad

People will hate me
But I will thicken my skin
to be a true queen

I will empower
And give you all your respects
and never denounce

I am a true Queen
With a Court that is growing
steadily but strong

The reign of Queen Lyn
Who is sensitive and shy
It has just begun
To these poets in particular, thank you so much for pushing me forward!
I'm grateful to everyone here to all my fellow poets on HP
You're all Kings and Queens of your own right!
Much love and blessings!
Lyn xxx
It's amazing and humbling

to be one of those Queens

who thought her notes

on the canvas were nothing

but scribbles and ink

but other Kings and Queen

make her see that it's

Thank you guys so much!
Shoutout to King Paul, Queen Sue and Queen Fawn in particular!
Lyn xxx
I am having trouble holding on.
I am f a l l i n g
a p a r t .
My balance is out of place,
My vision distorted.
Where are you?
CeilingStar Jul 10
Goodbye poetry is my favourite kind
The poets that feed you those delectable bites of glazey sickly love
To only have it drip through your outstretched arms
Leaving only a sticky sappy mess in its wake

Poets that use words that make you flinch
From wounds you hadn't known to have gored a hole in your heart
The kind of striking imagery that slices you like a chefs knife through an orange
The two halves swirling away from each other

I adore the way they hide behind their verbs and paragraphs and metaphors
Just like a child dodging kind strangers, clinging on to their mothers knees
And yet simultaneously, it's all exposed,
Naked figures intertwined in the bare legs of poetry
Filthy washing between the lines if you only know how to see it

Goodbye poetry is my favourite kind
It’s the only kind poets write about
Its juicier than the trickles of saccharine kisses in the golden rays of summer
It’s the rawest kind of poetry you will ever read, because when it's all over
When there is nobody to spend every beautifully blithe day with
That’s when the seconds turn sour
And we sit in the earthy soil and write
Our goodbye poetry

Poets only know how to make you cry


I made up a word, try find it
Krishna Mehra Jul 10
When light was treading the horizons of darkness
When leaves were rustling in zephyr
When butterflies were fluttering across the wilderness
When foamy flakes were shimmering like eyes of a heifer

I saw her; a noble matron
Enjoying the alluring aroma of rose
Her eyes were glistening like a naked natron
Sitting like my mother; in a statuesque pose

She gently drew me closer
And served my past as ambrosia
And told me to drink the elixir of present for future
Then like my mother, she gave me a bunch of gloriosa

As she started climbing the stairs to Shangri-La
My dream ended as I tossed and turned under the sheet of chinchilla.
Was she my mother?
I tried writing a sonnet.  The rhyne scheme is abab cdcd efef gg
Özcan Sh Jul 9
If we poets are sad
No tears fall from our eyes
Words fall from our hearts
That brings the blank sheet
And the pen in hand to life
They know how we poets feel
Because they were always
In good and bad days there
Like best friends for life.
Grey Jul 9
A small town with a oil painted face
Boungiorno! Coffee on every other 2nd Thursday
Rare occasion for the matinee, only for imagination and relaxation
The diner with an authentic blast from the past
There waits a booth for the young souls, trading their stories and tales
Adventures to come and jobs to be done
Hours pass while I roam the local park, once chased by the fearless duck!
One dollar and twenty five a game, billiard tables have found their small town fame
Summer in full swing with memories to be made
Cigarettes and caffeine, filled with adrenaline
Road trip, Round trip
A new chapter waiting to be written
Nishu Mathur Jul 6
And what do I serve with tea?

Of a cake layered with words - a slice
A croissant with stirring smilies
Quiche with quaint archaic spice -
Fresh from a poet's repository.

In the clink and chime of quills and pot
And spoons that stir the brew of tea
Dark or creamed, winter or spring
Here's to a cup of poetry.
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