"ambling" poems
The sun is with the paintbrush
ambling down the river blue.
See, your eyes are the mirror
in between the earth and sky duo.
Bask in the open air theatre
eye on spread out with colour.
Indulge in, with a slice of summer
you got the brightest star, the light
on your canvas, you got the clue.
Now draw your way through
art yours in between the two!
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 1:27 PM UTC
Come bask in the summer sun
let’s slip out fly with the butterflies!
While white fluffy cloud-swans
dip in and rise, surge and fly
up the rainbow arc sway away
come down the blue harbour
ambling along shady lanes
cast your glance treat your eyes!
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
Breathing in your alluring scent
Enjoying the ride, as the wheels go round
Cherishing the times we have spent
Smiling to our 'question', an answer we have found
This romantic attraction
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Having simple meals together
Indulging in chucklesome little talks
Laughing cheekily, we teased each other
Ambling along the smooth sidewalks
This deep affection
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Fulfilling your heart's desire
Appreciating your genuine kindness
Seeing you smile from ear to ear
Bringing back the long lost happiness
This sweet satisfaction
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Cuddling in your loving arms
Holding back my tears
Embracing me with your hidden charms
Taking away all my fears
This perfect expression
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
Ambling in a full-moon night
let alone the Moon
I only asked for a star.
Because I wanted
to be in tune
with the half-lit sky.
But none did stop by me
not even the little firefly.
Oh, from nowhere but
from the colour black
off it's sea of different shades
the night pops out.
While the Moon indeed
was painting in the dark.
Though every star
kept an wide-open eye.
But no one wanted to tell where
did the night scurry away
before the very blink
of the waxing Moon's eyes!
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 9:44 PM UTC
The Eid is bustling with joy
come let’s give it a try
f
l
y
away!
To the deathless groovy paradise
floating high on the elixir flow:
The triumphant joyous wave
streamed up from the secret bottom line!
Up above the lapis lazuli sky.
A pair of butterfly basks
in the sunlight
quietly indulges in style.
It goes on in slow motion
illuminating the night a firefly
perches on a slice of the Moon
flanked by the moonlight.
But you and me
we will rhyme and chant
in our lovely mother tongue.
In the same original lingua
like ‘Adam speaks up and all
angels listen in paradise’.
Come let’s give it a try
f
l
y
away!
On the wings of the moonlight
we will
s
a
i
l
away!
Ambling by the Moon
we'll **** through the starry nooks.
Eyes open and gently perched
atop a star for a moment or two.
We will see miles of galaxies
over the moonlit lakes of the blue
playing cool ravishing lutes!
The spring night is in bloom
and the cute sleeping beauty
wakes up playing the flute!
Musical half lights filling the sky.
Come let’s give it a try
f
l
y
away!
We’ll drink sharaban tahura
the holy wine of paradise
and once for all we will
k
i
s
s the death goodbye!
Our story will fill the divine soil
the heaven's flora and fauna
each and everyone will shine on our page
no houri will ever say finito singing our tale!
As Adam did it first stunned the angels
telling the nature of all things in paradise.
We will do that once more without a smirk
this time we will see the loving Creator!
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
On a shore flooded in the tide.
Now on a flitting log:
Rain, trying to fill up
the ridges white,
that, I, along with
***** snails and tiny starfish
are ambling to escape from.
The trees, they are laughing wet.
As are the distant waves,
snapping on returns.
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC
Draped in fresh-knitted pearls
we traipsed
into saccharine peach orchard
The summer heat loped about our dew-kissed ******
****** - appropriated from dawn spent on neatly shorn plantation grass
Ambling into the knotted palatial arbor
we sat each in our own tree crux
behinds nestled upon ashen bark
Juice dripping in our grip
down our cast nets of flesh
sprawled about the branches
inset with gravity-defying liquescent orbs
dusted in translucent mink
painted with smears of
citrine, coral, amber, and ichorous
clinging to brass stem
The rondures secede to mandible
taut between palms pull and polished ivories
- torn-
Fluent in dulcet discourse
We cloak ourselves in provocative juice tatting
Until such time that our congealing garments
were found mapping the bark's topography
A saccharine map to the breath of soil
Bloodstone ants found our map
and had begun traversing - portent
to seize our treasure
We surrendered our jewelled cages
and took flight
to the sun-drunken lake to bathe
and swim
until heavy lids kissed moistly
heavily supped on the draught
sleep - beckoned transience
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
Verdant eyes, translucent pearls
speak in silent witness,
wounds unfurl
meaning revealed,
interrupted girl.
Safe in solidarity
prolific eccentricity,
the scandal of particularity.
Pouting mouth
grief - filled lips
alluring, set sail a thousand ships;
tempt me to leave harbor.
Arousing euphoria as such,
resistance, amity and distance
amour sans touch
her sense of humor transcends,
appeasing the mind’s thirst
a vogue sultana,
seasoned swagger
hair resplendent flame,
alternating cool, black
asymmetrical coiffure;
nonconforming demure
the renegade metaphor -
singular for sure, no cure.
Muted vanity, bathos piercing
the jaded circumference of banality;
pale protagonist servitude
the sapient palaver of the urbane,
covered patina of pretense,
induced coercion,
the commodity self
appearing abased
wearing lesions of lassitude.
Artistic chattel - eminent domain
preempting genius,
subsidiary of consuming narcissism
external locus of control;
surrender to the tentative,
fettered pendant, Venus in chains
arrested visionary bane
sterile savant, edifice of pain.
The soubrette, dubious incarnation
gravid ingénue of prevarication
imperceptible venue -
theatre of the absurd;
withdrawn siren,
solitude of necessity -
skin - slender veil of shame,
nearness loitering redemption;
moments envisage
the appointment with the soul;
ambiguity eschews clarity
awareness; ineluctable anxiety,
imago - centric confession
sacred pardon, seraphic venation
intravenous textures presume,
the tactile margins of liberty.
Therapeutic retrieval,
Sanguine,
beneath the portico of
individuation;
Your smile I hear,
recovered autonomy
blessed emancipation,
The scandal of particularity;
peculiar treasure
ironically captured
film, canvas,
prose profundity.
Ciphering as an ambling book,
I peruse you,
rendered captive
hypnotic avant-garde fiction,
spectator of denuded opacity
analogous reflection, I Mirror you.
A modest proposal - pontificate the imperative,
forgo the disposal, adapt your narrative,
the scandal of particularity -
resonate the echo, cogitate our propinquity
Love, imagination and destiny.
©2008 & 2011 W.S Warner
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 1:20 AM UTC
The sky has turned a bluish grey.
I hear the voices of the city -
Words, music, traffic, train,
And shrill laughter floating in the lane.
The bells have begun to ring;
An old woman
Crouching in a corner of her terrace
Blows the conch thrice.
A white cat ambling by the road
***** its head to listen,
But deeming the prayers and noise the same
Continues in its search for game.
On a fifth floor balcony, a girl watches
The silhouettes of birds flying back home.
She has her own music,
The kind that shuts you out and sets you free.
Temporarily.
A train whistles in the distance
Carrying lives afar and beyond.
The evening grows dark, the moon rises,
The wind lulls and blows;
And life goes on…
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 5:19 AM UTC
I saw hostile clearly
She was an ambling pear
She turned, and amber melt effused my person
I - her saccharine tome
turning pages in my minds eye
I heard her
dog-earring the notion I should remember most
And I felt mealy, and bruised.
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
Keeping a bit private
after the night
the sun goes all out.
Over the painted rose
and through the shady clouds.
East west north and south
at the end of the day always returns
the twilight could never forget
a lurking little mole
the sun's missing beauty spot!
The ambling twilight goes deep
it isn't all black
a full moon shines on her brow
neither the night is pitch dark
down the mountains of floating stars.
Tomorrow again yet in the broad daylight
the sun will tuck into a throw of twilight
something is still private a black mole in the light.
Aug 22, 2022
Aug 22, 2022 at 10:51 PM UTC
Bubble, bubble, bubble, bubble—
Streams of bubbles within each bubble;
Streams of bubbles within bubble shells-
Bubble, bubble, bubble, bubble.
Golden streams of cheerful bubbles,
Ambling slow and dancing quick,
Sliding, swooping, darting bubbles,
Dissolving thin, dissolving thick.
Now a sheet of golden shimmering,
Swells to be a sea of glimmering,
Dissolves again and now we see
An ocean bottom, fish and trees.
The fish and trees expand, dissolve--
They are made of bubbles!
Bubbles, bubbles, golden bubbles,
Fish and tree and ocean floor
Are bubbles, golden bubbles.
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 3:38 PM UTC
He carries her purse on his arm
without awkwardness;
His comfort shows he must have been caretaker,
for some time.
Yet awkward she does feel.
He carries her purse on his arm
as if it belonged there.
Just another parcel to be handled
with care; yet not a care
to what this stranger thought.
This old woman hobbles
ambling behind;
a footfall - thrusts her forward,
one more step.
Doesn’t he understand she wants to go forward -
no more? One step closer
to the grave,
she can sense.
The cane catching
and holding her steady;
The pain, catching
and holding her firm.
She follows his lead; always hitting the mark
with her blue veined hand
wrapped around that staff
in her grasp.
Her gait, unsteady,
wobbly at best
As he carries her purse on his arm,
She follows his lead
one step at a time
A crooked cane
her only assist for the
ambulatory impairment she bears;
as he carries her purse
on his arm.
© 2010 Marlene Dunham
Jul 20, 2010
Jul 20, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
The country road like poet’s fancies unravels
Through the giant hanky- sized paddy fields
And the dream sized ponds
Dotting the landscape
in perfect squires and riots of skewed and regular shapes
The green spread and the muddy beds, spell the village beauty.
Parrot green fields
And stark blue skies look at each other
In perfect silence, like mother and babe
And a great , grey house exposing its ragged bricks,
Bared like the buck tooth of the old
Provokes a village memory
Past picking itself slowy and ambling into the future
Its wooden columns
stand like mute exclamation marks!
or so it may look to me.
Flies the skidding scaly tarred snake
Fast and spreading like the traveler travelling on it.
Patchy it looks, now;
And full like the misery of the scorned lover
Eager like the maiden speech of a parlimentarian
The country road, runs fluid like a stream after the rains.
As the rustle of the engine trips and falls
into the divine air.
A roaming peacock calling adds charm to the great whole fare
A winged beauty, struts across
Nudged by the sputtering , speeding me.
The exotic avian attains the hedges galore
With its metal blue feathery strangeness blurred in my glancing eye
A species rare, found only in ornithologists diary.
A clamour in the air
And the school boys emerge in buddy pairs
Beneath the village banyan
That let loose its tresses to dry like a country maid.
I see, a promising glint in their eyes
The will make themselves of king and ministers of the modern days
The sonority of ringing bell
clubs the cacophony of school boys in into two dead parts.
They return to their classes, sanctified by the silence,
And open their minds to the feminine vocie.
A Glorious moment ,
As the morn of wisdom is born
Rich are the sightings of poor country side
And many are the mappings on the way,
My sensibilities recouped,
I drove back
not spent
But profound.
sound.
Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 5:15 AM UTC
Healing hands laid to rest
wandering in the near light of sunrise
fumbling for fractals of memory
ambling in the haze of yesterday.
Stolen words and displaced letters
floating in the ambience of space
cosmonauts of distant planets
arms outstretched beckoning
the echoes sent from
a thousand light years away.
Time is an irrelevant motion
tiny air bubbles escorting life
rising to the surface of forgotten dreams
spiraling, pulsating in a heartbeat
chambered by grasping futures.
The underlying fever reaching
inwards and outwards through the soul
seeking the blindness of tomorrow
unfurl their magical delights
wrapped in the glint of a solar cosmos.
Drifting beyond the reach of nature
blackness surrounds with the warmth
of knowing, a million miles away,
as if an undercurrent draws its final breath
behold wonderment far-seeing
leaving strange footprints
that someday others will say:
here stood a sentient being.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
Dinner, Dafney hot, courtyard cool and civilized,
Fettuccini fabulous, guest glamorous and glowing,
Eyes starlike smiling, pulpo carpaccio savoured.
Reality will bite in next week’s jungle game.
Imagination runs riot, perfect picture of dinner
For ants, ambling in forbidden places, ouch.
Coiffeurless, bad-hair-day, dishevelled demon,
Boredom, book, arachnophobia perhaps, escape.
Red carpet missed, pampering needed, tranquilo.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:33 AM UTC
Beautiful Bangladesh naturally is pretty cute
on second thought is a masterstroke.
You gotta see it to believe how stunning it looks
as if the sunrise rendered a beauty spot
gladly put it on the morning rose!
Pop into a country of mass people
you could be walking down the singing birds
hanging low nearby our princely open doors.
Every one of us knows in the heart
we are sitting on a land of pure gold!
Should you bask in at the crack of dawn
as the crackling light of heaven stumbles upon
follow the first light that gives you your cue!
Besides the world's ********* Aladdin's
three wishes came true: the longest beach
the biggest tea gardens and mangrove forest,
in Cox's Bazar, Sylhet and Sundarbans.
Take your peep eye on in every direction
ah, moments await you on both sides of the pool!
Vividly mesmerising the Bengal of Gold,
a narrative in words can't always be told.
Sometimes it's said with whispers of old
in the shade of bamboo when that flute is heard
expect it to be carried to you by the frost-kissed air!
Hang onto your cameras even though
you walked passed the twilight in scenic Bandarban
seen the sunset in Kuakata is de ja vu ambling down this nook
you might feel walking one step down beneath the Moon!
Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 5:07 PM UTC
sacred
silent season
wrapped in silk
in your tall towers
imposed
with the
ambling sense
of reason
and ripe blossoms
bathed in ***** milk
never again
left to wonder
the aimless
riches of yesterday
and the golden
hopes of tomorrow
such are the joys
of a Norseman
pillage and plunder
I will rummage
your sweet gardens
let your woven path
lead my feet
free of chains
to your doorway;
and the Viking
stirs and hardens
alpha breath
against moist
misty white skin
my cobalt aquas
revel in the seas
of your chastity
now ablaze with
nordic sweat and
archaic sin
Let the games begin
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
we made home-made bread
yesterday, with tomatoes the
size of softballs,
in the kitchen where you
watched the sun rise like
dough; ambling along morning
in the company of the past—
mischief buried in our
bones—
while you harvested memories
and string beans between
rows of clover.
you watched us and we
watched you behind the window,
behind the sink—
*what kind of trouble will you,
we,
get into today?*
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 9:39 PM UTC
You turned me into a paperweight.
Ambling out of your genealogy,
you chiseled me to the marrowbone;
walk tall with your invisible chains.
You turned me into a paperweight
marooned on polished mahogany –
conquered West-Indian trees;
walk tall while your mastery wanes.
You turned me into a paperweight.
From your bottomless, two-ton
tongue came my disfigured heart –
walk tall, you pyrite suzerain.
You turned me into a paperweight,
deserted on paperwork seas,
ball-and-chained to the wooden beach –
walk tall in your insidious vein.
You turned me into a paperweight.
I fell, clutching the snowflakes,
and held your whole ********* useless life together –
walk tall, play that catchpenny game.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
With hidden hands,
the curtain clung to the wall
and cascaded like a waterfall
down to the floor.
Smothering the window
and draping an old side table,
rendering it derelict
- a lifeless silhouette.
Quarter way down from the ceiling,
the curtain parted just a sliver.
Allowing a lone ray to visit between
ambling clouds.
•••
One on the outside can’t fully see
the darkened workings
of a confined mind.
I, on the inside...
Can’t see past the cloth
fastened stubborn
over my weary eyes.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 1:27 PM UTC
The soft crackle of sand
pail under moonlight,
lapped up by an ocean's returning tongue,
time and again.
Waves hello.
Look above.
You will see fireflies in plain view
yet static and beyond the the reach of hand,
then I remember the promenade clearly
where yours once found gaps in mine.
Ambling parallel to the shore, with a grip
the sea could not part,
but the word 'forever' could not anchor.
Waves goodbye.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 2:16 AM UTC
The Actress steps out
To an audience of eyes
Making slow assessment
Staring at her, through her
Each subtlety of her motion
A tell-sign of her mind
So The Actress fills her mind
With foreign thoughts
Buries herself in research
And imagined feelings
That seep into her own
Until she is her part
And The Actress is no more
And actress but a puppet
Ambling through a cut-out of a life
Letting their eyes burrow deeper
But not deep enough to see
Her lying to them
But The Actress pays her price
For to lie that deeply
Requires honest belief in her own
Fictitious existence
And who she is ceases to be
In favour of a character
And as The Actress steps off stage
She is blind to her reality
And emptied of truth
For she carries the eyes with her
In her mind, in her reflection
Until she is no longer sure
She is an actress at all
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
FLAME-Heart, take back your love. Swift, sure
And poignant as the dagger to the mark,
Your will is burning ever; it is pure.
Mine is vague water welling through the dark,
Holding all substances--except the spark.
Picture the pleasure of the meadow stream
When some clear striding naked-footed girl
Cuts swift and straightly as a gleam
Across its ***** ambling and aswirl
With mooning eddies and soft lips acurl;
Such was our meeting--fatefully so brief.
I have no purpose and no power to clutch.
Gleam onward, maiden, to your goal of grief;
And I more sadly flow, remembering much,
Yet doomed to take the form of all I touch.
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