"frolicing" poems
consider
the field is never always smooth;
there are times that the grass turns brown
and the flowers wilt and their petals
return to the ground
…consider these things…
what was a frolicing maid becomes a hag;
the virulent man shrivels and becomes incapable
and so the sky, never always clear and boundless
and so the clouds, not always childhood pleasantries
but they come into chaos and dreariness
and pile dollops of dark humor
and so our lives,
darlings, O sweet ones -
regard these things well -
and so our lives too pass from radiant days
to gasp below dreary shades
from a happy, happy song to a dirge over the dale –
and not all our rosaries and beads and prayers and faith
nothing will halt, in spite of stories they recite,
nothing will halt the sun and the passage of time
and so like the artist it is best to observe
like the artist in the field
capture the moment, savor the life
and if anything, make of one’s life a beauty
that others may pause to gaze at
as pausing to gaze at a rose, the cherry blossoms…
be you makers of beauty,
darlings, O darlings, consider these things
O sweet ones…
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 7:57 AM UTC
Frank fraternized with females
frolicing, flirting, fun
fantastic, fanciful feelings
Fabricating fantasies
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
A flower sways upon a rolling hill
Basking in the sun
She has quenched her thirst with the morning dew
And her day has just begun
The flower stands tall and proud of her petals
As they compliment the meadow
When suddenly upon the hill
She sees a dancing shadow
A young child comes frolicing toward her
And upon her petals the child stares
She pulls her face up to the flower's eye
And envelops it within her hairs
The child caresses her nose upon the petals
and takes a giant whiff
The flower fears what could possibly happen
And her stem becomes stiff
The child wraps her hand around the flower's base
And thrusts upward with a pluck
The flower has been free'd from the ground
And is no longer stuck
Her beauty has brought a child happiness
But at what cost?
Taken from her home
The flower is now lost
In the distance the child's mother is calling
And the child beings to sprint towards the voice
The flower slips through the child's fingers
And she leaves it behind by choice
The flower travels with the wind
Gliding through the sky
The sight is so beautiful
Who knew flowers could fly
The gust of wind softens
And she falls back to the grass
She lay there taking it all in
Back home alas
She realizes she has little time
Before her petals wither away
So she lay there basking in the sun
Enjoying her last day
She does not groan or weep
But glances at the leaves on the trees
For a flower without water
Can still feel the breeze
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 7:29 PM UTC
Whats happened to all
"The little things in life"?
Am I the only one who takes in a breath of appreciation for my surroundings?
Am I alone amongst the foliage and canapay of nature? Loving its raw beauty, with all it has to offer.
I just long to get amongst it
From frolicing through a field, falling, laughing in fits of pure joy.
Splashing, paddling, shrieking with excitement amongst the cooling waves.
To sitting in silence, watching the tranqual change from day to night. Colours with such vibrance and flavor I can't help but get lost in time.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
The Butterfly Wallows
Black petals of goodbyes embellished the ground
The pinkness goes away as the sun is setting
light begins to disappear as it is drowned
The tides show no chance of forgetting
When you flew away beyond where I can be
The heat of the cold appeared
As the darkness washes over the blue sea
Every speck of existence has been cleared
Longing for the light to be spared
But the Fates have cut the thread
The flowing streams show who cared
Now there is a heavy heart of lead
Nostalgia for the past settles in
When reality begins to show
The sun burnt out before all could begin
And now my precious gem doesn’t glow
A symbol of love hides in the trees
Bringing the longing for the drums beat
But what still exists are the memories
Back when the bitter world was sweet
In the two blue seas it is easy to get lost
And the warmth steals all five senses
The music melted all the frost
Never anything ever tenses
Frolicing in the vibrantly colored meadows
All alone surrounded in undying love
Where benign words of eternity echoes
As a gentle touch is all that was thought of
The butterflies dance with the sun shining down
With fading light a passionate rendezvous takes place
Bringing the wistfulness where she is to drown
Getting lost in the stars of the alluring face
Together the symbol of love is embedded in the tree
The symbol of infinity following
Unknowing of what the ending would be
The butterfly wouldn’t be saved from wallowing
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
Saw you and your eyes were telling me
How I should look up and see
The beautiful sky spread above the sea
It is never alone though seemingly empty
At day there's the sun embracing; the clouds frolicing
At night the moon, with stars that are dangling
You were smiling and your eyes turned lines
Your warm soul laughed; my sadness faded
Seemingly closed as it hides
Thoughts of loneliness ended
Xie xie ni yi xiang
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC
Me and my sister talk,
Chatting a few minutes at night.
Me and my sister play,
Sledding in the winter,
And frolicing in the field during summer.
Me and my sister argue,
Over the smallest things.
I call her a sour, bitter, lemon,
She calls me ignorant.
Me and my sister laugh so hard,
We can’t breathe.
I wish we were telepaths sometimes,
So we could read eachothers’ minds.
But sometimes I wish we didn’t,
Cause some thoughts should be kept private.
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
Spring fever
in the first blush of a waking springtime
The warming rays of the long lost sunshine
Touch my face like a mother's kiss.
At my feet an army of purple Crocuses
Defiant of winter standing. *****
with the pride of survival.
Squirrels frolicing in joyous enjoyment
Of a renewal of all loved things
including their own species.
My wife joins me in
celebration of the springtime.
I touch her hair softly
Her smile as warm as the sunshine.
Our unspoken intimacy promises
A return to the flesh.
I imagine how good her hair it will feel
Flowing upon by bare chest.
We look at each other differently
Not as those labels
Like mother and father
Or husband and wife
But as the people who could not
Get enough of each other
When we first met.
I see our children playing
In the fresh air.
The youngest as fresh
as the spring itself.
And I know that in some far off springtime
When I do not have work so hard
Just to make ends meet
and the children are grown up.
She will touch my hair gently
as she does.
And ask me
Were youhappy back then.
My love.
I will say to you
Yes my love
So happy
So very happy.
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 9:19 AM UTC