"chantilly" poems - Hello Poetry

12 in the dark, I sit awake by the window, Across from Hyde Park, and the feel of the wind oh, Sparking a bark, Nana's remarking from below, Canine matriarch against the boy with no shadow, Time's flickering by and I begin to rust, Consumed, I'm high with lust just for pixie dust, But to fly you must be robust and adjust, And I can't, though I try, I just look with disgust, Sitting on the sill, I think of him mournfully, Hard as I try, I can't think of him scornfully, Despite the fact that he talks so informally, He says my name and I know I was born to be, Part of the family, I think of them nightly, Tootles, the twins, Curly, Nibs and Slightly, Second star to the right, it shines so brightly, Hope he might come back if I ask politely, He doesn't apologize, he's immature and he's cold, Lives in a land without rules so he can't be controlled, But as soon as I saw him I knew I'd struck green-gold, Peter Pan is a joke that just never gets old, Don't smile at crocodiles down in Neverland, And if you hear a ticking clock, hope the ships are manned, Because there's a high demand for the taste of pirate band, And if you're not hooked by now then Hook'll tell you first hand, I flew here like a bird in a night-dress, frilly, Scared, trying to fight stress, skin like Chantilly, Found Peter and I confess that the boy's my Achilles, Now I'm a lost girl treading on Tiger Lillies, Acorns and thimbles are my idea of 'bases', And sword fights with pirates are my ***** chasers, Watching the boys as they fly and admiring Peter Pan, But he's the boy who can't love here in Neverland, I wanted devotion, to marry men who were charming, So I repressed, left my emotion, I left Peter Pan snarling, My own species no longer, just a common starling, Caged by age at my window, I'm Wendy Darling.

0

Dec 20, 2014

Dec 20, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC

wormsworms

Wendy Darling

12 in the dark, I sit awake by the window, Across from Hyde Park, and the feel of the wind oh, Sparking a bark, Nana's remarking from below, Canine matriarch against the boy with no shadow, Time's flickering by and I begin to rust, Consumed, I'm high with lust just for pixie dust, But to fly you must be robust and adjust, And I can't, though I try, I just look with disgust, Sitting on the sill, I think of him mournfully, Hard as I try, I can't think of him scornfully, Despite the fact that he talks so informally, He says my name and I know I was born to be, Part of the family, I think of them nightly, Tootles, the twins, Curly, Nibs and Slightly, Second star to the right, it shines so brightly, Hope he might come back if I ask politely, He doesn't apologize, he's immature and he's cold, Lives in a land without rules so he can't be controlled, But as soon as I saw him I knew I'd struck green-gold, Peter Pan is a joke that just never gets old, Don't smile at crocodiles down in Neverland, And if you hear a ticking clock, hope the ships are manned, Because there's a high demand for the taste of pirate band, And if you're not hooked by now then Hook'll tell you first hand, I flew here like a bird in a night-dress, frilly, Scared, trying to fight stress, skin like Chantilly, Found Peter and I confess that the boy's my Achilles, Now I'm a lost girl treading on Tiger Lillies, Acorns and thimbles are my idea of 'bases', And sword fights with pirates are my ***** chasers, Watching the boys as they fly and admiring Peter Pan, But he's the boy who can't love here in Neverland, I wanted devotion, to marry men who were charming, So I repressed, left my emotion, I left Peter Pan snarling, My own species no longer, just a common starling, Caged by age at my window, I'm Wendy Darling.

36

*Your musky scent lingered wafted through my mind my eyes glistened in the recall echoed in enthralled moments, Chantilly laced and perfumed my body aches to do it again a shiver tickles my inner thigh flutter of fiery passion enraptured left its brand upon my breast your torrid kisses bruised my lips pain and ecstasy of divine bliss sizzling in thrashing slow motion within my trance of sultry nights*

0

Oct 1, 2013

Oct 1, 2013 at 6:34 AM UTC

frieda-p

Sultry Trance

*Your musky scent lingered wafted through my mind my eyes glistened in the recall echoed in enthralled moments, Chantilly laced and perfumed my body aches to do it again a shiver tickles my inner thigh flutter of fiery passion enraptured left its brand upon my breast your torrid kisses bruised my lips pain and ecstasy of divine bliss sizzling in thrashing slow motion within my trance of sultry nights*

13

~ Dreaming of moonbeams in Chantilly lace Wishing the smile aglow on your face Leaving the day in the early behind Something much more now appears in my mind Holding you close till our skin tingles wet Searching your eyes so to never forget Entering slow on the cusp of the eve Kissing your whispers, feeling you breathe Drinking the fluids abreast of the turn Fueling the heat as my world it does burn Soft in the grass neath the dark twilight skies Here in my arms ever drenched in your sighs Longing the taste of the wind on the night Taking a path down the avenue tight Spreading the seams of this ecstasy true Dancing to songs of this time, me and you Sultry the skies and the star shine above Sweet is your fragrance, deep is my love Till morning finds us together as one When comes the dawn, when comes the sun

0

May 25, 2015

May 25, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC

chris-g

When comes the dawn, when comes the sun

~ Dreaming of moonbeams in Chantilly lace Wishing the smile aglow on your face Leaving the day in the early behind Something much more now appears in my mind Holding you close till our skin tingles wet Searching your eyes so to never forget Entering slow on the cusp of the eve Kissing your whispers, feeling you breathe Drinking the fluids abreast of the turn Fueling the heat as my world it does burn Soft in the grass neath the dark twilight skies Here in my arms ever drenched in your sighs Longing the taste of the wind on the night Taking a path down the avenue tight Spreading the seams of this ecstasy true Dancing to songs of this time, me and you Sultry the skies and the star shine above Sweet is your fragrance, deep is my love Till morning finds us together as one When comes the dawn, when comes the sun

41

**i stood on a star and put the (uni)verse on notice.. in love for the first time; never prior to hearing her speak could i've known any emotion as forthright or that it had a voice a podium and an audience to give its whole mouth to... taught me how to pronounce the same scattered thoughts that once upon a self-conscious moment would dissolve on the base of my tongue like potent hallucinogens... the same sentiments i couldn't enunciate to save my life i've become an abstract illustration of what it is to be moved and a slave to vacant canvases bad ***** that she is... beauty to my beast and as feel good as a four letter word her poems are as fine as the source or a frozen red rose in an empty wineglass and hard to find vintage vinyl albums my drops are laced with the blood of wordsmiths we're hip-hop thick skinned an all-black cathedral choir a solar eclipse big things her poems are the bones of what's left of me or candy yams on sunday or a ***** dollar bill stuck to the bottom of my shoe good luck like that and her own personal soapbox our sessions are privileged my crystallized thoughts are off key all the rage... we work unsuspecting platforms like subway performance artists her poems are intimate touches in chantilly lace or a pair of oatmeal tim's refined and love me, love me nots penned in tear drop blue we're so cultural religious and impartial to love while our political joints march with their fists raised in protest of voter suppression baby girl's, frances to my zeke once upon a time in the projects and one way or another she's happy people dope like cannabis sweet like cane sugar and as beloved as ms. ida brown's tattered bible #myword dear shorty, i want my poetry and write it too all ink smeared roads lead back to you**

0

Apr 22, 2014

Apr 22, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC

derickgibbs

HELLO POETRY

**i stood on a star and put the (uni)verse on notice.. in love for the first time; never prior to hearing her speak could i've known any emotion as forthright or that it had a voice a podium and an audience to give its whole mouth to... taught me how to pronounce the same scattered thoughts that once upon a self-conscious moment would dissolve on the base of my tongue like potent hallucinogens... the same sentiments i couldn't enunciate to save my life i've become an abstract illustration of what it is to be moved and a slave to vacant canvases bad ***** that she is... beauty to my beast and as feel good as a four letter word her poems are as fine as the source or a frozen red rose in an empty wineglass and hard to find vintage vinyl albums my drops are laced with the blood of wordsmiths we're hip-hop thick skinned an all-black cathedral choir a solar eclipse big things her poems are the bones of what's left of me or candy yams on sunday or a ***** dollar bill stuck to the bottom of my shoe good luck like that and her own personal soapbox our sessions are privileged my crystallized thoughts are off key all the rage... we work unsuspecting platforms like subway performance artists her poems are intimate touches in chantilly lace or a pair of oatmeal tim's refined and love me, love me nots penned in tear drop blue we're so cultural religious and impartial to love while our political joints march with their fists raised in protest of voter suppression baby girl's, frances to my zeke once upon a time in the projects and one way or another she's happy people dope like cannabis sweet like cane sugar and as beloved as ms. ida brown's tattered bible #myword dear shorty, i want my poetry and write it too all ink smeared roads lead back to you**

74

The Black Veil - by D. B. Sullivan I knew this day would come. I must confess, It’s quite surreal to have this taking place. I hold emotions tight within my dress, Behind the veil of black that hides my face. Arriving at the church, I’m overcome By all the feelings that I have inside. Until the end, I’m staying silent, mum, But absolutely present, misty-eyed. I’m ushered to the front and find my place With slightly trembling hands, I breathe and wait. Chantilly lace and crepe obscure my face, my heart begins to race and palpitate. The priest begins with welcoming regards. He then proceeds to bow and raise his hands Aloft, appealing unto Heav’nly guards This group of hearts in silence fore him stands. We bow our heads in rev’rent piety, And pray that God attend these supplicants Of mortal flesh. Dispel anxiety - New life awaits infused with sustenance. The rites are read to sanctify and bless Transitioning from this life to the next. Our faithfulness in God again profess, That we, in times of strife need not be vexed. The ***** and its pipes uplift the hymn, Resounding with an echoing reply. The colored glass of windows dark and dim From thunder clouds and rainfall rolling by. A single rose of red I hold in hand, With silken gloves that all my arms conceal. My knees are weak and faint, but here I stand. Chiffon of black hides ev’rything I feel. Devotions made, felicitations said, Means soon will be the last and final bell. When after tributes voiced and scriptures read, I find I’m falling farther under spell. I feel the eyes of all that gathered here, Anticipating words from me. I start A deep and steeling breath so all may hear My words before they'll see me come apart. And now, with sacramental candles lit, All other persons did their prayers purvey, The time has come for me - the last commit. From ev’ry corner of my soul I say: “I do”.

0

Sep 8, 2025

Sep 8, 2025 at 6:16 AM UTC

dbsullivan

The Black Veil

The Black Veil - by D. B. Sullivan I knew this day would come. I must confess, It’s quite surreal to have this taking place. I hold emotions tight within my dress, Behind the veil of black that hides my face. Arriving at the church, I’m overcome By all the feelings that I have inside. Until the end, I’m staying silent, mum, But absolutely present, misty-eyed. I’m ushered to the front and find my place With slightly trembling hands, I breathe and wait. Chantilly lace and crepe obscure my face, my heart begins to race and palpitate. The priest begins with welcoming regards. He then proceeds to bow and raise his hands Aloft, appealing unto Heav’nly guards This group of hearts in silence fore him stands. We bow our heads in rev’rent piety, And pray that God attend these supplicants Of mortal flesh. Dispel anxiety - New life awaits infused with sustenance. The rites are read to sanctify and bless Transitioning from this life to the next. Our faithfulness in God again profess, That we, in times of strife need not be vexed. The ***** and its pipes uplift the hymn, Resounding with an echoing reply. The colored glass of windows dark and dim From thunder clouds and rainfall rolling by. A single rose of red I hold in hand, With silken gloves that all my arms conceal. My knees are weak and faint, but here I stand. Chiffon of black hides ev’rything I feel. Devotions made, felicitations said, Means soon will be the last and final bell. When after tributes voiced and scriptures read, I find I’m falling farther under spell. I feel the eyes of all that gathered here, Anticipating words from me. I start A deep and steeling breath so all may hear My words before they'll see me come apart. And now, with sacramental candles lit, All other persons did their prayers purvey, The time has come for me - the last commit. From ev’ry corner of my soul I say: “I do”.

46

BLOOMING Hold my hand while we play together in paradise. A pink scented candle flickers under the stairs. With flames dancing, as if ballerinas. That dance on tiptoes. Wafts of springtime garden flowers. Tickle my nose. We play together for hours and hours. It's a scene in a dream. In which, I am queen. As only I am. You are king. Created of string and Chantilly lace. I saw your face. The raven cries. I awake from that dream. Pictures of passion from magazines. Love images of beaches and rivers that flow. Creation of magpies out hunting for gold. The birds in the nest made out of spittle. While the man in the moon sits with playing sticks. That he whittles. He's making strange shapes. They make no sort of sense. Before walking away, sure as night becomes day. He'll make breakfast in bed. Makes sure I am fed with the fire of desire. Before I'm walking away. A day well spent. As love's only lent. I shall never relent. Nor repent. At last I'm alive. (C) LIVVI

0

Jan 29, 2016

Jan 29, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC

olivia-kent

BLOOMING

BLOOMING Hold my hand while we play together in paradise. A pink scented candle flickers under the stairs. With flames dancing, as if ballerinas. That dance on tiptoes. Wafts of springtime garden flowers. Tickle my nose. We play together for hours and hours. It's a scene in a dream. In which, I am queen. As only I am. You are king. Created of string and Chantilly lace. I saw your face. The raven cries. I awake from that dream. Pictures of passion from magazines. Love images of beaches and rivers that flow. Creation of magpies out hunting for gold. The birds in the nest made out of spittle. While the man in the moon sits with playing sticks. That he whittles. He's making strange shapes. They make no sort of sense. Before walking away, sure as night becomes day. He'll make breakfast in bed. Makes sure I am fed with the fire of desire. Before I'm walking away. A day well spent. As love's only lent. I shall never relent. Nor repent. At last I'm alive. (C) LIVVI

34

I slipped behind you on all fours, bypassed your chantilly lace squirming, I traced your lovely form and me, the naked summer worm, fell smitten.

0

Mar 4, 2014

Mar 4, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC

jonny-angel

Naked Summer Worm

I slipped behind you on all fours, bypassed your chantilly lace squirming, I traced your lovely form and me, the naked summer worm, fell smitten.

8

A blanket A covered stretch of ground to cross in due time A blank face A blank slate An empty head tonight moves across this white space I've crunched through snow and Summer both. Fused years, found friends and let dead ones go. This axe to grind has grown dull, I know-- and cumbersome on ground yet to cover. As days splice fibers into 12 month rope, Hang this warm hat on one thing I know: that I've still got ground left to cover. Slow breathing breath steaming off into dioxide cold night It drifts towards the moonlight, ghost of a laugh escapes, leaks into the night sky A half hour A half-smile stretching through my creasing face now I laughed when you sang me Chantilly Lace as we walked across that cold town I've weathered snow and rainstorms both. Fused years, found friends and let dead ones go. This frown of mine has grown dumb and old and cumbersome on ground yet to cover. As days splice fibers into 12 month rope, hang memories on one thing I know: that I've still got ground left to cover. The rivers, like parks and roads, stitch places to times to sew us homes. These year-long cords stretch between our doors across all this ground yet to cover. Their names are a cascading brine "Red," "Big Goose, "Clark Fork," "Assiniboine." The years flow homeward, my pride erodes-- silt layer on ground left to cover.

0

Nov 26, 2015

Nov 26, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC

kyle-kulseth

Ground

A blanket A covered stretch of ground to cross in due time A blank face A blank slate An empty head tonight moves across this white space I've crunched through snow and Summer both. Fused years, found friends and let dead ones go. This axe to grind has grown dull, I know-- and cumbersome on ground yet to cover. As days splice fibers into 12 month rope, Hang this warm hat on one thing I know: that I've still got ground left to cover. Slow breathing breath steaming off into dioxide cold night It drifts towards the moonlight, ghost of a laugh escapes, leaks into the night sky A half hour A half-smile stretching through my creasing face now I laughed when you sang me Chantilly Lace as we walked across that cold town I've weathered snow and rainstorms both. Fused years, found friends and let dead ones go. This frown of mine has grown dumb and old and cumbersome on ground yet to cover. As days splice fibers into 12 month rope, hang memories on one thing I know: that I've still got ground left to cover. The rivers, like parks and roads, stitch places to times to sew us homes. These year-long cords stretch between our doors across all this ground yet to cover. Their names are a cascading brine "Red," "Big Goose, "Clark Fork," "Assiniboine." The years flow homeward, my pride erodes-- silt layer on ground left to cover.

46

Drifting through the lonely darkness night Searching ancient halls, candelabra high Seems forever she waits, longing to unite Dreary sorrow grips her fragile heart to die Untold years roll by, only her love in mind Many witnessed, oh the specters lament Crying echoes, wails in morning, no sign Remains now, a misting ocean breeze scent One fateful day, through countless yore Comes a gentle soul, with great empathy Hidden in diary, tragic tale and what's more Heroic captain's doomed ship by raging sea Wait he, for her woeful soul amidst paintings Candescence aflame the ancestral mortality Eyes flicker and shifting ominous engravings Lingering among shadows of ancient gallery Elevated trembling light in hand to behold A captain of the vessel dressed in uniform It cannot be, it looks like he, truth now told In gloom emerging, she hails human form Gathers him now into her ghostly embrace At last they meet again, it's been too long Laying head against her gown of chantilly lace Final beating, his heart stills, soul withdrawn Mislaid at sea no more, arrives him at last Pair drifting in afterlife's realm unknown No more tears, worrisome fears, they laugh Wasted years, rekindles love she does atone .

0

Feb 19, 2025

Feb 19, 2025 at 9:06 AM UTC

SLF78

Bygone Revenants

Drifting through the lonely darkness night Searching ancient halls, candelabra high Seems forever she waits, longing to unite Dreary sorrow grips her fragile heart to die Untold years roll by, only her love in mind Many witnessed, oh the specters lament Crying echoes, wails in morning, no sign Remains now, a misting ocean breeze scent One fateful day, through countless yore Comes a gentle soul, with great empathy Hidden in diary, tragic tale and what's more Heroic captain's doomed ship by raging sea Wait he, for her woeful soul amidst paintings Candescence aflame the ancestral mortality Eyes flicker and shifting ominous engravings Lingering among shadows of ancient gallery Elevated trembling light in hand to behold A captain of the vessel dressed in uniform It cannot be, it looks like he, truth now told In gloom emerging, she hails human form Gathers him now into her ghostly embrace At last they meet again, it's been too long Laying head against her gown of chantilly lace Final beating, his heart stills, soul withdrawn Mislaid at sea no more, arrives him at last Pair drifting in afterlife's realm unknown No more tears, worrisome fears, they laugh Wasted years, rekindles love she does atone .

29

I drink of the waters of sinner’s delight Smooth to the taste I believe Washed up ashore on a moonless lit night Much more than one can conceive Poured in a goblet of yellow and blue Butterfly patterns a’ shine Wings in the vestibule, blinding the view There only destined of time Here at the stairway that leads to your heart Spiraling up to the sky Winding in tapestries, threadbare to start Whimsical fabrics now sigh Taking each step as I breathe in the change Shadows about do compare Absolute beauty of love rearranged Finding the most in each stair Hallways extend each direction a’ flow Candlelit beacons provide A knock on your door in the midst of their glow Whispers now call me inside Therefore my eyes as a silhouette fine Loveliness clings to a smile Chantilly lace in the garments a’ shine Filling my eyes all the while Heavenly scent of magnolia bloom Fresh as this hot summer’s fire White opalescence in shades of the moon Painting my soul with desire Touches of satin, so smooth comes your skin Breathless endeavors soon pour Hoping on hope of the welcoming in Of what this night has in store Lips of chiffon in a raspberry grin Porcelain shimmering thighs Desperate these thoughts now awash in a sin Breath comes a sonnet of sighs Reaching I stumble, my balance unsure Shivers, my toes to my spine Stuttering nervous of this I adore Formed of the sweetest design Then with a wisp as the draperies wave Flames flicker quick of the flow Smoke from the wicks meets the ceiling once more As I cry, where did you go Standing here holding of one dozen roses Cellophane wrapped round the stems Seeing the window so quickly it closes I was but this close again

0

Aug 26, 2014

Aug 26, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC

jack-3

Not close enough

I drink of the waters of sinner’s delight Smooth to the taste I believe Washed up ashore on a moonless lit night Much more than one can conceive Poured in a goblet of yellow and blue Butterfly patterns a’ shine Wings in the vestibule, blinding the view There only destined of time Here at the stairway that leads to your heart Spiraling up to the sky Winding in tapestries, threadbare to start Whimsical fabrics now sigh Taking each step as I breathe in the change Shadows about do compare Absolute beauty of love rearranged Finding the most in each stair Hallways extend each direction a’ flow Candlelit beacons provide A knock on your door in the midst of their glow Whispers now call me inside Therefore my eyes as a silhouette fine Loveliness clings to a smile Chantilly lace in the garments a’ shine Filling my eyes all the while Heavenly scent of magnolia bloom Fresh as this hot summer’s fire White opalescence in shades of the moon Painting my soul with desire Touches of satin, so smooth comes your skin Breathless endeavors soon pour Hoping on hope of the welcoming in Of what this night has in store Lips of chiffon in a raspberry grin Porcelain shimmering thighs Desperate these thoughts now awash in a sin Breath comes a sonnet of sighs Reaching I stumble, my balance unsure Shivers, my toes to my spine Stuttering nervous of this I adore Formed of the sweetest design Then with a wisp as the draperies wave Flames flicker quick of the flow Smoke from the wicks meets the ceiling once more As I cry, where did you go Standing here holding of one dozen roses Cellophane wrapped round the stems Seeing the window so quickly it closes I was but this close again

48

The morning dew on the petals of a callalily is not as soft as the essence that flows from you. Your energy is so chantilly. Soft, calm, yet steadily effervescent. Refined, elegant, magnetic. A breeze gently caressing the supple branches of a willow tree cannot match the grace with which you move. The twinkling of the stars at night could never compare to the joyful sparkle in your eyes that captivates me so. When you smile, I become a prisoner without chains. I have no reason nor desire to escape.

0

Jul 20, 2018

Jul 20, 2018 at 2:56 AM UTC

WordMystic

Drawn to you

The morning dew on the petals of a callalily is not as soft as the essence that flows from you. Your energy is so chantilly. Soft, calm, yet steadily effervescent. Refined, elegant, magnetic. A breeze gently caressing the supple branches of a willow tree cannot match the grace with which you move. The twinkling of the stars at night could never compare to the joyful sparkle in your eyes that captivates me so. When you smile, I become a prisoner without chains. I have no reason nor desire to escape.

5