"sedately" poems
It was golden and splendid,
That City of light;
A vision suspended
In deeps of the night;
A region of wonder and glory, whose temples were marble and white.
I remember the season
It dawn'd on my gaze;
The mad time of unreason,
The brain-numbing days
When Winter, white-sheeted and ghastly, stalks onward to torture and craze.
More lovely than Zion
It shone in the sky
When the beams of Orion
Beclouded my eye,
Bringing sleep that was filled with dim mem'ries of moments obscure and gone by.
Its mansions were stately,
With carvings made fair,
Each rising sedately
On terraces rare,
And the gardens were fragrant and bright with strange miracles blossoming there.
The avenues lur'd me
With vistas sublime;
Tall arches assur'd me
That once on a time
I had wander'd in rapture beneath them, and bask'd in the Halcyon clime.
On the plazas were standing
A sculptur'd array;
Long bearded, commanding,
rave men in their day—
But one stood dismantled and broken, its bearded face battered away.
In that city effulgent
No mortal I saw,
But my fancy, indulgent
To memory's law,
Linger'd long on the forms in the plazas, and eyed their stone features with
awe.
I fann'd the faint ember
That glow'd in my mind,
And strove to remember
The aeons behind; &
21.4k
The girl with the kite
Didn't have a care
She'd run on the beach
With the wind in her hair
She'd run up hills
Lie in fields of wild flowers
Gazing at the ever changing sky
She would dream for hours
The girl with the kite
Saw faces in the sky
Angels looking down on her
From clouds floating by
She'd hold on so tight
As her kite took flight
She said she'd never let go
Of her beautiful kite
The girl with the kite
Would make daisy chains
She'd pick clover and butter cups
As she walked country lanes
Life was simple
Or it seemed that way
The sun was always shining
When she went out to play
The girl with the kite
Started to grow
She felt under pressure
To let her kite go
Demands were made
For her to achieve and perform
Make her way in the world
Please other people and conform
The girl with the kite
Felt things were going wrong
It was hard growing up
Then a man came along
He played his guitar
He brought a bouquet
As he sang his sweet song
Her kite drifted away
The girl with the kite
Heard his sweet song turn sour
His true colours were shown
As the man used his power,
Manipulation and aggression
To clip her wings
To crush her spirit
To pull her strings
The girl with the kite
Felt she was to blame
For her bad choices
She hid her shame
Kept her sadness a secret
Tried to make things right
Trapped in her world
She lost her self in the fight
The girl with the kite
Wanted to die
She couldn't live any more
She had no kite to fly
She went to the Doctor
Who gave her some pills
They just made her numb
Didn't cure her ills
The girl with the kite
Slept for a decade, or more
Life went on around her
Each day was a chore
She had to wake from the inertia
She had become bereft
When she woke from the dark sleep
She had nothing left
The girl with the kite
Had to start anew
Like a Phoenix from the ashes
She knew she'd pull through
She's found her kite
Found a beach for it to blow
Up to the angels on their clouds
This time, she won't let go
The girl with the kite
Is now a woman, strong and proud
Content to live her life alone
Independent and unbowed
She flies her kite sedately
Life is not a race
She's free to fly it when she wants to
It flies at her own pace
Nicki Tilston.
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 3:45 AM UTC
sedately walks the cats
home from their hunting;
the neighbourhood terrors
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
The parrot, screeching, flew out into the darkness,
Circled three times above the upturned faces
With a great whir of brilliant outspread wings,
And then returned to stagger on her finger.
She bowed and smiled, eliciting applause. . .
The property man hated her ***** birds.
But it had taken years--yes, years--to train them,
To shoulder flags, strike bells by tweaking strings,
Or climb sedately little flights of stairs.
When they were stubborn, she tapped them with a wand,
And her eyes glittered a little under the eyebrows.
The red one flapped and flapped on a swinging wire;
The little white ones winked round yellow eyes.
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The Actor
When coming out of the building
facing me is a dentist's office with big windows
Therefore, on one step to the ground
I jump down with an elegant spring
walk quickly to the corner
where my public cannot seem to see me
The scene is over
I can continue walking sedately
A job done, I bow to the public
but does not let the applause go to my head
I remember telling my mother I wanted
be an actor
She smiled fondly, said I was too shy
because when there was a knock on
the door. She had to open
while I hid in the bedroom
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 2:33 PM UTC
my fair infant-highness,
thine ebony skin of dusky twilight,
thy gold-flecked smoke-shrouded eyes,
bring me such joy as cannot be described
my sweet young prince,
dost thou comprehend the lengths of my care?
is thy failing health truly the last of thee i will see?
wouldst thou allow thy alluring laugh to fade as thy breath?
my serene little princeling,
what shall i do to return thee to my arms?
three days and an hour thou hast survived this cursed health,
what is even another minute that i might see thee again?
my beloved royal
the mere thought of thine own existence brings me peace
but following on its heels is the fear of thy passing
how hast thine eyes already gripped my soul so?
my tranquil blood-kin,
thou didst not cry once, not even at thy birth
thine eyes rested on mine sedately
thy smile, charmingly dimpled, was tender
light of my heart
why must my spirit cry out to thee
even as thy pulse stills
and thy tiny chest cease rising?
h.f.m
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
The girl holds
The apricot
In her hand;
And as
She brings it
To her lips
Seductively,
You sit back
In your chair
And take note
Of her movements,
Like an artist
Meditating
On his subject,
Taking in
The way
Her lips part
And her tongue,
Like some
Small lizard,
Licks
The apricot's skin;
The juices
From her mouth
Linger
At the edges;
You watch
As she bites
The flesh sedately
As she can,
(As if
It were
The skin
Of her lover man)
Then eating
(As maybe
Her mother
Told her)
With lips sealed,
Her eyes close,
Her whole body
Engaging the fruit,
The sensations
Of flesh on flesh,
In an almost
****** love game,
The juices runs,
Down the hand,
Out between
Lips partly sealed,
Onto the chin,
Where you watch,
As her hand
Brushes seductively
The high juices
With a small laughter.
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 5:22 AM UTC
The parrot, screeching, flew out into the darkness,
Circled three times above the upturned faces
With a great whir of brilliant outspread wings,
And then returned to stagger on her finger.
She bowed and smiled, eliciting applause. . .
The property man hated her ***** birds.
But it had taken years-yes, years-to train them,
To shoulder flags, strike bells by tweaking strings,
Or climb sedately little flights of stairs.
When they were stubborn, she tapped them with a wand,
And her eyes glittered a little under the eyebrows.
The red one flapped and flapped on a swinging wire;
The little white ones winked round yellow eyes.
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Golden disc retreating to a pallid horizon.
Tree tops bathed in fiery glow
Rendered starkly against brooding clouds.
Coal black shadows recumbent on a
slumbering landscape,
As summers prime colours sedately ebb away.
Pale silver orb awaits curtain call.
Whilst the first chilled kiss of Autumn caresses skin.
Dec 13, 2010
Dec 13, 2010 at 5:18 AM UTC
You asked:
"How you came to your dead end?"
How did I?
Perhaps too much of chasing butterflies,
or maybe running barefoot in hot, avid pursuit
of those looping, berserk kites
adrift like airborne serpents
in delirious evening skies.
Then there were those chimeric rainbows -
sedately fantastic illusions of dream jobs,
and loving homes with ambrosial glows.
They all eventually led to the same prosaic end,
for, any-which-way, all roads wound up
at appropriately conventional
and consequently beaten bend.
Till the chase went on, it was the same old story -
All fulfilled ambition promptly subject to
increasingly falling marginal utility.
After all of it was said and done,
every little crown lost and won,
the agony of the question still remained
no last words arose,
to which to exclaim and say Yay!
Life had me in its hook. See:?
while this is what it meant to be free: !
✽
Fossilized in my den, I stared wistfully
at life's irrevocable loose ends
and this is how my friend
I arrived at my proverbial dead ends.
Nov 27, 2019
Nov 27, 2019 at 5:59 PM UTC
*This bed seems so huge,
so wide
and yet here we lay
like we're
oceans away
in the Mediterranean*
*spaced-out from each other,
your so far from me.*
*We're spent,
in deliberate denial,
unfinished or satisfied
without words,
without understanding,*
*we hold onto our lacerated heart's,
giving in the only way known
carnally,unabated & undoubted*
*least in the carnal way.
I crave the unknown,
to be explored like never before,*
*to be made whole
and touched within my soul,
where my body ignites
from the inside out.*
*I'd like to know
what it'd feel like to be*
consumed
*by "Love's"
* lustful ******
*more than the
heat of passion,*
*in such a way
which leaves me quaking,
shaking, quivering
and yearning for more.*
*Once we've spent our
feverish attempts
on last-night's seductions,
under a moonlit sky,*
*I'm left inexorable,
as my body spasms,
longing for more than
what the flesh attempts to give.*
*I'll argue against the pejorative
illusions of our love making,
which deludes my mind*
to believe this is what
*it means to have
"Love's" acceptance*
*without the actuality's
of loving me....*
*We were intoxicated-
with wonderment
as we explored
one another,*
*yet
"Love's"
*touch nor "Love's"
*inspirational caresses
& soulful idealization's
were present.*
*It never enter that room,
sedately I felt a
magnificent release,*
* yet I'm still longing for
"Love's" fulfillment*
*and for you to concur
my deepest emotions,
as you'll ****** deeply
within my velveteen walls.*
* I'll moan,
crying out for what's*
*about to come
and for that
moment we'll be one.*
*But only within
that moment
because you*
*know as well
as I do*
*that "Love's"
making such*
*a Fool of me!*
* Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®*
K.A.C.L.N ©
All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present ©
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
I sit still and stare secretively at your fragile figure.
Your shivering skin screams while you sleep in your twin sized bed,
As your blight bones rapidly rattle with fevering fear.
Your exasperating eyes open to expeditiously escape your nauseating nightmare.
But
Instead.
You awake to a repulsive reality worse than your immense imagination.
My heartbeat exhilarates excitedly,
When the damaged door frantically flies open,
The shrieking sound of wood carelessly colliding with the wall,
Is intentionally ignored by sleeping ears dreaming in denial,
As I wildly watch him stormily stumble like a gigantic giant,
Into your room.
Your battered body quivers quickly like an anxious animal.
You are the petty prey and he is the havoc hunter.
You use your cobalt comforter like a shield, to protect your shaking skeleton,
As you try to hide from the morbid monster who sedately sleeps down the hall.
The sour scent of bitter beer fills my nose as he places a filthy finger on your trembling lips.
He tragically tears the blue blanket away, destructively destroying your shield.
His terrible touch turns you hard, like a stiff statue,
Resulting in fierce feelings of shame and guilt, to wash wildly over you like a titanic tidal wave.
He painfully penetrates and turbulently thrusts into your collapsing core,
Annihilating,
Your illumined innocence and your beauteous body,
As his monstrous moans carefully cloud your cries as he explodes like a boiling bomb.
Once he leaves your blemished bedroom, you savagely grab onto me.
"I wish I was a superhero, like you Spiderman."
He cries as terrified tears tear across his face,
Leaving salty streaks and creating secluded scars.
But I cannot protect you.
So I am no superhero.
I think to myself.
As I let you cry onto my stuffed shoulder,
The only thing I can do,
Because I can't talk.
I can only keep sinister secrets.
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 9:08 AM UTC
I send up my prayer at rocket speed
and the answer parachutes down sedately,
-in no hurry but at a pace I can accommodate
and my finite self can understand,
while the caresses of peace on my soul,
can last the whole day through.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 12:56 PM UTC
I would greatly enjoy
Drinking a full bottle
Of blue sky, with
Cloud cubes.
And as a youngest
Quasi-only child
I have no basis
Upon which to babysit.
I keep a pocket-sized
Terrace with me
At all times
Purely for the flowers.
And it would be a
Jolly thing to have
An eight-year old
Dream come true.
On rare occasions
I wear dresses
And walk sedately
Through fields.
And once in awhile
The bird on my leg
Is a massive swallowtail
And tries to fly a feathery airplane.
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC
Nothing special about the day,
Except when you sat
At that table in some street café,
And saw a young woman
Remove a rosy red apple
From her bag and brush it
Slowly against her dress
As if wishing to conjure up
A memory of some previous night.
You sat unnoticed, at least
By her, and watched her lift
The apple to her lips
And close her eyes.
The apple lingered
Held by her hand, barely
Inches from that soft
Red skin (maybe she was
Thinking of him, who made
Her the night before)
And the lips parting slightly,
Almost whispering, the tongue,
Like some pink snake, brushed
Along the lower flesh, the scent
Of apple touched her sense
Of smell like tickled ***
You smiled to yourself,
Not her, as she opened her eyes
And took a bite and ate sedately.
(You’d not seen
That posh dame lately,
The one who stayed
And bruised your soul).
Maybe she was thinking
Of her night of love as she
Seduced each mouthful of juice
And joy and swallowed slow
And breathed the midday air.
Then she had gone,
Moved on with apple
And her memories and you
Left behind with those images
Of her and the apple
Captured in your memory,
An art form in your fertile mind.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC
The artists all asked me
What does it feel like?
Gathered tight together round
A small black table
And they bent their bodies
To every touch
Then fell away
I couldn't form an answer
The creeping of my nerves
Down spine to spindly fingers
Sharp as rusty screws
And dull as achy bones
It felt like nothing
The writers all asked me
What were you thinking?
Sprawled out sedately upon
A sleepy couch
Tell it all but not too much
One said
And make sure it is true
The howling wind
And deathly silence
The great valleys of snow
Which stole my mind
A muffled cry in the bleak north
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
clarity ...
clear ..water ..view
....to the pebbles
and ..green ..pond life....
..fronds..
that sway ..gentle..
in the current
...mezmerising the eye
hypnotizing ...the soul
..the koi ..glide
....cruise
like .....teenage boys
........in first cars
lapping.... endlessly..
round..back..round
..until
the ...food .......hits..
...the water's...
surface....
....then
they are ....glutinous
....fury...
....the little blue cat
comes ....to watch this show
with ..calculation ...inherit..
in..his eyes
..he wants ... wants...wants.........one ...of those ..big..juicy fish...
but.... they ...are to quick
.... for him....he has tried...
.....the pond settles
the ripples fade...
the fish ..swim ..more sedately
now..
....and the frogs ...skim the surface..
........to gather...... the insects
disturbed ...by the earlier...
maelstrom..
clarity... returns
the frogs ...begin
their nightly.... choral
as we.. turn and ...walk
into the house
...led by a ...hungry ...
little grey cat...
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 9:26 PM UTC
Nothing special about the day,
Except when you sat
At that table in some street café,
And saw a young woman
Remove a rosy red apple
From her bag and brush it
Slowly against her dress
As if wishing to conjure up
A memory of some previous night.
You sat unnoticed, at least
By her, and watched her lift
The apple to her lips
And close her eyes.
The apple lingered
Held by her hand, barely
Inches from that soft
Red skin (maybe she was
Thinking of him, who made
Her the night before)
And the lips parting slightly,
Almost whispering, the tongue,
Like some pink snake, brushed
Along the lower flesh, the scent
Of apple touched her sense
Of smell like tickled ***
You smiled to yourself,
Not her, as she opened her eyes
And took a bite and ate sedately.
(You’d not seen
That posh dame lately,
The one who stayed
And bruised your soul).
Maybe she was thinking
Of her night of love as she
Seduced each mouthful of juice
And joy and swallowed slow
And breathed the midday air.
Then she had gone,
Moved on with apple
And her memories and you
Left behind with those images
Of her and the apple
Captured in your memory,
An art form in your fertile mind.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
I often wonder looking at a friend
If on the inside they are just like me
If when they laugh the same emotions pass
If when they lie the shame seems not to last
I wonder at the men below my seat
And ponder if they see me as a man
Or if - as we sedately stroll the lanes
They see some part of "bus" and no human
I wonder if, when looking at a tree,
Another's green is really pink to me
And if that's really so, we could in fact
All like the same hue, but name it different.
I often wonder looking at a man,
If his worries and his cares will come to me
For I am but a child of little years
Full of my own disparate hopes and fears
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 1:27 AM UTC
Yet another heavenly soul to nimble
The waves of love and tenderness
Oh! My senses.
Aren't you weary?
Yet another time my dreams aren't mine
The dreams of blissfulness.
Hey, you distant soul!
Are you sedately mingling to me?
Yet again I'm in the island of yearning
Swirling around me is the sea of other things I pay no heed to.
Maybe I should touch the earth and dream more.
Now, as I touch it and desperately wish for the dreams to be true.
Yet again a foreign soul has been trying to merge into mine.
Digging the soft corner and rest for a time.
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
We had sat
on the grass
by Banks House
warm morning
Fay's dress was
a faded blue
her fair hair
almost blonde
was let loose
Daddy said
we must pray
for the souls
in the place
Purgatory
Fay told me
where's that place?
I asked her
Daddy said
a place or
state of great
soul suffering
inhabited
by the souls
of sinners who
atone for
their own sins
before they go
to heaven
Fay explained
I unscrewed
a bottle of
lemonade
and passed it
over for
Fay to drink
she took sips
then gave it
back to me
I swigged some
then put it
beside me
on the grass
what a place
to avoid
if you can
I tell her
Daddy said
our prayers help
them get out
I take out
from my jean's
pocket a
paper bag
of wine gums
I offer
her the bag
she took one
and then she
sedately
put it in
between lips
to her mouth
I watched her
my 12 year
old girlfriend
doing that
it had a
beauty to
the action
her fingers
in motion
opening
of her lips
her blue eyes
I mouthed 2
red wine gums
and ****** them
all the time
watching her
not thinking
of the place
Purgatory
or the souls
but her there
her beauty
as we sat
on the grass
warmed up by
morning sun
both of us
seeming one.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 3:42 AM UTC
My fingers in yours,
walking so stately.
Cut cloud pours?
My fingers in yours.
Thunderhead roars?
I smile sedately,
my fingers in yours,
walking so stately.
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 3:49 PM UTC