"gracing" poems
It's been nine years now. Nine years since the angels took you away. Nine years since I stood at the home, looking at your peaceful face; eyes closed, a ghost of a smile gracing your lips. It doesn't seem that long. It seems like yesterday you were calling me your little princess; I'm still that little girl at heart. The one who believed she would grow up to be a beautiful elegant contessa. I don't have many memories of the times we shared as I was only young when you passed. In fact, sometimes I struggle to picture your gorgeous, smiling face telling me stories of your past of advice for when I grew into an elegant older woman just like you were then.
I was only 6... 6 years old and I had to go through the pain and heartache of having my nan cruelly taken away from me. I'll be 16 next year. I'll be having my prom next year. I will be leaving year 11, getting my GCSE results and starting A-levels next year. So much has happened in these 9 short, short years. There is so much more to come and you won't be here to share it with me. My graduation from university, my first career move, my marriage, my children... Your great-grandchildren. You won't be here for the good times, the bad...The happy and the sad...
There are certain qualities about you that I will always remember... Being made banana sandwiches every time we went round to your house! Having a Sunday roast with you and Granddad every single week! Your 60th birthday (I knocked Zack down and felt so chuffed!) The last birthday you ever spent with me... You made my birthday cake that year... If I remember correctly, it was a princess castle with all the Disney princesses stood around it! You told me I deserved a cake because I was a beautiful princess also.
I know you will be looking down on me and the family just to make sure we are alright! I just hope it's a smile on your face and not a frown! I hope I have made you proud nan... I really do. I hope you Rest In Peace nan and I will never forget you. Forever in our hearts and minds. 15/06/2004... We love you nan and always will. <3
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 6:56 PM UTC
She is moonbeams
And dappled sunlight
Renewal and
New beginnings
Gracing the land
With fragrant blossoms
Buzzing bees
And dandelion flurries
As children play
In Spring’s garden
Blowing happy bubbles
And laughter floats
Touching the heart and soul
She is Mistress of Spring
Kelly Rose
© April 1, 2017
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC
The cherry blossoms, pink and luscious, in full bloom.
Below the koi fish swim round, round in circles.
The sun reflects off silk kimonos with a shine radiant, dazzling,
With red lips against painted white skin, blindingly beautiful.
A walk like unraveling ribbon,
And hair like ink, bound tightly a few strands bound for escape.
Untouched skin tainted by stares, clipped wings useless for an escape,
Freedom comes in the hope of riding a cherry blossom, swelling in bloom.
The leaves swirl to the ground, spiraling in nature’s ribbon.
The glares of tigers ********** her, kimono falling to her feet in circles,
Eyes of blue, green, never turning away, trapping those beautiful,
The nature of a hidden world, shaming and stunning, confining yet so dazzling.
The snap of the gold-trimmed fan weaving in and out, dazzling
The crowd with effortless twists and turns; clenched tightly, no room for escape.
A dance of untamed water in a disturbingly beautiful
Unity of desire and fright. A young bud not on the verge of bloom
Thrown into a crowd of tigers to be spun in uncontrollable circles
And entrapped by the unflinching gazes in silk ribbon.
The game is simple: mesmerize a pack with grace of ribbon,
Attend engagements that ask for a dance, tea pouring, but never dazzling
That pure smile too brightly. Fool the ***** tigers to follow in circles,
But never trust a tiger that promises a chance of escape.
Never fall for love’s first bloom,
Never become the next to lose the light. Stay pure and stay beautiful.
A kimono is only as pure and as beautiful
As the woman underneath. By cutting the ribbon
Of virginity by a friendly lamb, instead of tiger’s bidding for the bloom,
Only leads to the fall of a shooting star, gracing the sky with its dazzling
Beauty, and the hope and wish of an everlasting escape
Is crushed by the weight of a soapy rag, washing away the hope in circles.
Though the pain of the cage binds the mind in endless circles,
Though tigers ignored the aching backs and blistered feet, staring at only the beautiful,
It is better, safer to stay in the hidden world, banishing all thoughts of an escape.
Keep the tigers in a tight ribbon,
Stay young, fresh, never letting the mind wander away from dazzling,
And never fall like a cherry blossom after its first bloom.
A walk like unraveling ribbon,
The sun reflects off the silk kimono with a shine that never ceases from dazzling,
And forever watching the cherry blossoms, pink and luscious, fall in full bloom.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
At this point I know it's over
They've told us where the plane is heading
I've always thought I'd know what to think if something like this happened
But I'm lost here
I'm not thinking about my beautiful wife
Or my daughter
My parents who will outlive me
Or my friends who are off living their lives
I keep thinking about the mailman
No really I do
How he'll have to go around tomorrow
Passing this tale of tragedy
Gracing my family with statistics
Thousands dead thousands hurt
I feel bad for that mailman
For he will never truly understand the pain he will bring
This mailman does not know my name
He does not know my wife, my daughter,
The man next to me,
My first grade teacher, my first girlfriend
He does not know my dog
He does not know my true dreams or my hopes
My ambitions, my musings, my innermost thoughts
No this mailman only knows he is passing out the paper
Delivering news to millions who do not want it
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
Resplendent rose, luminous green,
Lucid paradisaical palette,
The jewel delivers
It's dyed, distinctive sheen
Graciously, unassumingly
Casting a pink and emerald crewel
Coalescing into traces,
Cuisine for sunbeams
Brushing nature's easel --
Bedecking the constellation lighting on earth,
Realizing among tureens:
Scalloped edge profusions offering
The spoonbill waif
Sweet adrenaline,
Fueling it's sojourn in the atmosphere.
Bird of prey, humming minstrel,
Airy, iridescent meddler
Between red blooms,
Distant gem's sparkle
Gracing redolent, languid afternoons
Cloaked in shimmering velveteen,
Beating velocious wings, remaining still.
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 9:11 AM UTC
She moved towards me like silk moves in a breeze. Her glow was soft, yet strikingly strong. Eyes brown and big like an oak tree in summer with rays of golden sun stung throughout. She moved as if an angel slowly awakening inside her. Her long brunette hair shimmered as it gracefully fell along her shoulders resting upon her ******* I would call her body smooth like softly blown waves in the sea, but no justice would it give to her. Her smile could make any woman stop in her tracks, just to appreciate the glorious happiness it brings. Her laugh brings joy like the peace nature brings in solitude. A total eclipse of winters cold, only allowing warm spring and summer. Hips a sailboat rocked by a beat only she could know. Sweet kisses with lips that taste like the most perfectly ripe fruit. Her hands touch as water does; politely gracing your skin and leaving you with droplets slowly fading. Her glance love-filled as a lover of many years might look at you. She is beauty from the inside out; she is graceful with every step; she is everything I want, and so much more.
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 10:12 AM UTC
Your Approach...
Mine eyes behold
The view you're gracing
Your beauty unfold
My heart starts racing
Your Encroah...
The tension grows
While towards pacing
Your radiance flows
It's fear I'm bracing
My Abroach...
The entrancement
Has my mind failing
Your smile's enhancement
Sends my heart sailing
My Reproach...
I'm Insecure
My secret endure
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 5:04 PM UTC
Adorning a lover's finger,
Gracing necks of the rich
Illuminating in the dark,
but stained with innocent blood
Young hands toiling in mines of Sierra Leone to upscale stores,
Where entrance she's denied.
Such beauty they hold,
Sparkling, aren't they?
A measure of worth,
And status upon the wealthy.
Extracted with blood stained, trembling fingers for the pleasure of who,
still remains a mystery to me.
Dear Us
Their blood is crying for us,
The land that soaks up their blood welcomes infertility, are we really born with the mark of Cain?
Graves upon graves,
Mutilated legs and hands,
A rifle in the hands of a 12-year old boy plucked from his haven to a war he does not understand,
Bid peace farewell
Diamonds Don't Shine In Africa
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
Some people want a legacy
like the lion:
its roar is loud and rich in pride.
I want a legacy like the lilacs gracing her neck:
soaked in desire,
and laced with something unmistakable.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 6:00 PM UTC
I ENVY the seas of Neptune that he rides,
I envy the thrills,
Of his royal chariot of May;
Gracing these glistening hills.
Gaze upon our journey, Love!
Where the stars may gleam
On our forbidden melody,
Bless this love, unto me!
I envy lakes of Swans,
That flutter on August Eves,
That bless a forbidden Love,
With newfound Autumn Leaves.
Opened is the portal,
On this summer's Eve for me,
That jewels and diadems of Wealth,
Shall never; could never be.
I envy our everlasting light,
And bells that gently ring
Over that fateful evening,
That - envy shall bring.
Yet interrupt Spring's blossom,
Even when our hearts may bleed,
Run into this everlasting night,
Under the stars with me.
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙
A God of everything
From my hopes to my dreams
and even more..
A miracle of the world
from its earthly to the heavenly
everyone adores..
A wonder to my eyes
from man whose blinded faith
he lets them see..
A voice of my song
symphonies of life lose its note
you conduct a new..
An ark of Le voyage
sailing tides of shore to shore
trod waters core..
A blimp up above
gracing colors of glacial on air
everlasting he care..
A rock of revelation
standing every storm to storm
Avant is his norm..
A shepherd of lambs
from my heart whilst was lost
to him, I found..
A cross to my soul
were Calvary’s sins he bargains
a new life regained..
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 11:22 AM UTC
gracing the streets,
with her pink stilleto
and a pricy frappuccino—
she barely sips
they can't take their eyes off her,
well, who would?
even i,
i can't.
she has class and elegance,
money, power—
what else is missing?
oh, i know,
the reason i stared at her for a minute.
i just can't forget,
how unbothered she is
when she threw the empty cup
on the ground.
i wonder why
she doesn't use her bills
to buy some manners?
oh wait—
i forgot--
that's not for sale.
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 1:11 AM UTC
Might I ask you a question, my dear?
I might have an answer, my sweet.
For all this time together
These years, months and days
You have seen me cry, we've cried together
You have seen me in pain, crippled for days
All by unknown forces attacking my mind
You have dealt with me in times of suffocating strife
My screaming and fits and tantrums
Though all this, do you still love me?
Why, of course.
But why, darling?
Because.
While I have seen you cry and in pain and in fits
I have seen you glittering with joy
From your passions and adventures
And to make me smile.
I have seen you laugh until you cried again
Til you collapsed into silence, grinning like a Cheshire
I have held you while you shine with happiness
As a star from on high, gracing me with your presence.
Now I must ask, why do you inquire?
To remind us, in case we ever forget our love
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 10:06 PM UTC
the form
the pattern
emergent beauty
honor!
faces!
bright with life!
honor!
------
born
we
come
here
-----
honor!
------
the gentle raw naked power
vibrates and pulsates
joy!
------
a tiny piece
a leaf in the wind
perfectly placed
a simple smile
gracing the avenues
heals
a knowing
a gift
of
love
------
of love
----
joy
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 11:32 AM UTC
Embraced again
My soul races
And is nourished times ten.
Filled with sacred knowings -
The mind's eye is glowing.
Reaching heights
Of indigo light.
Soft
And gracing the skin
Gently
As i fall within.
Flowing amidst
I am pieces of the sea.
I innerstand the motions
Of the winds that we breathe.
I see love growing green.
Stitching in gold, the fabrics
Of our never ending dream.
Together is our only way
To save our sleeping days.
United we can awake.
I am forever chasing grace.
Blessed again
With an exotic luxury.
The world
And love's potency
Is floating me along.
I tune in to
My favourite song
And slowly drift away.
Reaching heights
Of violet light.
Quiet
And losing the time
Clearly
As I fully unwind.
Floating admist
I am particles of air.
Simple stardust being -
So transcendent and aware.
We are a never ending flow
This is the only thing to know.
So I bring this all within me.
For here's our biggest goal:
To Stretch Beyond Our Realm,
And Be One Universal Whole.
Together is our only way
to save our sleeping days.
With love we can awake.
I am forever embracing grace.
☼
(( miss.....mica. )) ***
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Tethered feathers sing their long lost songs in solos that were once symphonies
Falling from swan-like wings of a lone angel and floating along a reflecting stream
The misty haze graces both water's surface and the resting angel's skin
Making the glow from her shining halo all the more evident
See as she sits inside the arms of an elderly weeping willow
Fireflies gracing her satin hand as the glow from her skin does billow
The natural string quartet of the crickets under a full moon's glow
A silent moment in a place and time that mortals may never know
Looking upon the star studded sky that is her open field
Flying with the grace of many a dove whose untamed beauty shall not yeild
Yet landing on dirt ridden ground to see whatever it is she may please
Trickling tears coming from your eyes at the sight of such travesties
Oh angel, if feather must fall, then let it, but not one tear from your eye
At this hallowed sight and glorious eve where Heaven and Earth coincide
And if tear must fall into the waters under the arm of the willow tree
May it harden into the whitest of pearls so I might keep it here with me
Let sultry glowing moonlight be your constant company
Filling the darkness and contributing spotlight to your scene
May silver moonlight and silken feather compliment each detail
And pray the moon does not fade away and break this scene, so frail
Dear hallowed breath of the midnight hour, take note of this rare time
So you may utter this instant in this poet's ear and turn it to hallowed rhyme
The instance where an host of Heaven indulged in a glimpse of Earth
And with a tear turned into a pearl showed what our instances are worth
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
On old world wings you've come
through ages gracing wilds
In gardens you hover, humming hawk moth
seemingly like a bird
With beating wings you sing to honeyed flower stalks
a proboscis long for drinking up
phlox and penstemon
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
You've asked me how can I see a future when love, in all
Its numinous beauty, is waning?
I reply, the immortal stars still shine above the veil of clouds.
You say, why are the salmon swimming to their pools of origin
Only to die as they spawn? Only to die?
I tell you their love is unconditional, like mine.
You ask me did the giant sequoia know it was shelter for the burning grasses
When they walked from the seas? I reply yes they knew.
You question me about the lofty snow cranes that fly over the Himalayas
And I reply by describing
How the priestly flocks, chanting on their mission, honk—
Announcing the mantle steps to the heavens.
You inquire about the elephantine manatees gracing the shallow banks
And wonder if the sea mermaids remember their lives beyond the latitudes
Of capricorn and cancer?
Or you’ve discovered in the wind a new reasoning as to why
The talons of the paired eagles lock in midair as they court?
You want to understand the nimbus garden, ocean slate, of lake Titicaca
Where resides the Andean sea horse gliding above the clouds?
The whales that circle dance in unison collecting krill?
The noetic display of the birds of paradise, the songs of nameless creatures
Playing in the wilderness like a forgotten melody only lovers lips remember?
I want to tell you that true love knows this, that life in its
Prismatic shimmer is all the myriad colours of infinite existence wrapped
In time to the sublime structure of white and bones. I must tell you
That the flower is mighty in its opening, the humming bird is a sorcerer
Who needles ambrosia with vortex wings weaving his way to the Gods.
But I am nothing beside your disbelief which has arrived, before
I can even imagine the sweet awakening, like doom, my shell is the iridescent
Hollow of the one eyed Abalone, discarded in the deep fathoms
Of the ocean pressures.
I swim the tides as you do, investigating
The endless tendril seas,
And in my chest, during the night, I woke up empty,
The only thing treasured, a golden face
Trapped inside my dreams.
— after Neruda
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 6:59 PM UTC
You've asked me how can I see a future when love, in all
Its numinous beauty, is waning?
I reply, the immortal stars still shine above the veil of clouds.
You say, why are the salmon swimming to their pools of origin
Only to die as they spawn? Only to die?
I tell you their love is unconditional, like mine.
You ask me did the giant sequoia know it was shelter for the burning grasses
When they walked from the seas? I reply yes they knew.
You question me about the lofty snow cranes that fly over the Himalayas
And I reply by describing
How the priestly flocks, chanting on their mission, honk—
Announcing the mantle steps to the heavens.
You inquire about the elephantine manatees gracing the shallow banks
And wonder if the sea mermaids remember their lives beyond the latitudes
Of capricorn and cancer?
Or you’ve discovered in the wind a new reasoning as to why
The talons of the paired eagles lock in midair as they court?
You want to understand the nimbus garden, ocean slate, of lake Titicaca
Where resides the Andean sea horse gliding above the clouds?
The whales that circle dance in unison collecting krill?
The noetic display of the birds of paradise, the songs of nameless creatures
Playing in the wilderness like a forgotten melody only lovers lips remember?
I want to tell you that true love knows this, that life in its
Prismatic shimmer is all the myriad colours of infinite existence wrapped
In time to the sublime structure of white and bones. I must tell you
That the flower is mighty in its opening, the humming bird is a sorcerer
Who needles ambrosia with vortex wings weaving his way to the Gods.
But I am nothing beside your disbelief which has arrived, before
I can even imagine the sweet awakening, like doom, my shell is the iridescent
Hollow of the one eyed Abalone, discarded in the deep fathoms
Of the ocean pressures.
I swim the tides as you do, investigating
The endless tendril seas,
And in my chest, during the night, I woke up empty,
The only thing treasured, a golden face
Trapped inside my dreams.
— after Neruda
May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 2:57 PM UTC
On old world wings you've come
through ages gracing wilds
In gardens you hover, humming hawk moth
seemingly like a bird
On beating wings you sing to honeyed flower stalks
a proboscis long for drinking up
phlox and penstemon
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 1:21 PM UTC
She has glowing eyes
Gracing the land of skies
Where dreamy times collide
Lily Pad, her float
Lotus flowers, speak
Her fingers trace East to West
Grasshoppers make their leap
Earth fires off canons
As she prepares her sail
Green eyes strike a match
Do you hear that distant wail
Do you smell that burning flame
She certainly is wild
Arrows shooting higher
She was the Archer’s child.
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
we were made for love
searching in the littlest corners for every message
seeking solace even in the silence
sighing when the words spill out on viber
or whatsapp, sweet words that mean so much
and yet we have oceans roaring between us
closing the distances, and mountain ranges
and majestic trees and deep green valleys
and cobalt skies and turquoise silks
of language that spell complex meaning
and little, little things that mean heartbeats
like monarch butterflies gracing to the winds caress
and a hundred thousand songs that each time we listen to
means new passion.
thats what love is
and we were made for it
the may december meeting
that never seems to fade away
and how i treasure those few minutes
in a day which lights up the lamp of our knowing.
we were made for love
there is no other explanation
on why this works so well.
if we ever found different journeys
imagine what a wasteland it would create
for either of us.
we were made for love......
Author Notes
its true.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 9 days ago
- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11581979-we-were-made-for-love...-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.PTzQwhmt.dpuf
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
I came to the Relazation,
*I don't give a ****
Only when I'm
high as **** off some
Man made ether- Now, etherized
it's easier to comprehend the demensions that led to my mental demise.
Yet and still.
*I don't give a ****
Numb.
No need for the clenching of hearts or
worry some eyes-
This is a different "Numb".
Confusing your senses to where you
Hear color,
Taste sound
See beauty in all belonging to God
An feel only with your heart-
I'm riding on cloud 9 -
Yea, high...
Surfacing on a pen that's barely scratching
The surface of my potency.
My being is being caressed by night fall,
Stillness finds space to
fit and slip down shoulders
once burdened with all
but a dream.
Reality never touched me here
So it's easy to imitate a crescent
for my lips main wear.
Corners peaked
Gracing cheekbones once hidden
Now amplified by rose colored bliss.
I wish I could stay here -
Live within my imagination
Because in this realm-
Creativity added to a heart of gold
Not affiliated with currency
Is riches.
Unfortunately,
I can't stay trapped in this... dream-
Because like that 14 year old school boy
My imagination too,
has a curfew.
Only is at 8 a.m.
When the alarm sounds for me to mask my desires
In a blue collar-
To work the "grave yard shift"-
For a dreamer.
Hmm...
I guess my stress will greet your relief again at 5.
Or if I can't wait to embrace that comforted race-
I may have to show face on my next lunch break.
- Danielle . A. Watson
✌
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
The flying didn't cease, nor did the gravity
but I stayed close to the ground
my mother had told me not to drift too far
but that one time I did
that one time, I,
I tried to stop, I really did
that day I saw the prodigy there was
that wasn't anymore
I saw sanctity gasping for breath
choking on its own emesis
it shouldn't have gotten so drunk on sin
an aura fighting to survive against pretention
hands holding on to a fading faith
slipping like a baby, yet, tripping and trying
my wings set ablaze by the heat of raging insanity
A memory that day was cast forever
A pithy precis comes charging to me
My eyes opened to what I assumed hell
an old man nominally clad in a tattered sheet
pressed a medicinal red cloth against my anguishing wounds
in a hut that barely stood up
hay dripped off its exiguity
drops of water leaked everywhere
but the 4 feet cot that I lay on
the gracing peacock feather near my feet
gave the only colour to my grey eyes
He shivered of his elderly age
that seemed younger than his wrinkles
poverty seemed to have worn him down
but not more than the wickedness around
"My child, are you feeling alright?"
Affrightened and confused by the terra incognita
I merely nodded in affirmation
My eyes looked around to discover a nurturing,
smiling face,
then to a corner with a *** of water
and food meagre for an infant
he took a morsel in a leaf
and presented to me what was left
"This is enough for me my dear,
do you mind finishing the rest,
it is a bit dry,
here, have it with some water instead
now eat well child,
you look like a stick for a girl your age."
then he smiled again,
and walked away
with nothing on his leaf, but the satisfaction of a whole on his face
I looked at the dry bread crumb
moistened by a drop of my tear
trying to force his bites through
I wasn't ready for the hope he shared
my throat was taking bath in ice
his altruism healed my bubble that was burst
this wasn't the insanity that burnt my wings
this was the one that stole a morsel of my love.
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 10:26 AM UTC