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Early Spring Image Prompt contest Winner!

The winning poem of the

Early Spring Image Prompt contest is

 The Visitor by  Mary Beth Magee

Congratulations to Mary Beth Magee on such a fine poem.

Neopoet Weekly 03/17/24 to 03/23/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

 

2:23am by zach

 

Congratulations to zach on such a fine poem.

Early Spring Image Prompt Contest Vote

Early Spring Image Contest Vote

 

Please read the two finalist poems below and click on the vote here link to vote on your favorite poem. Voting ends March 29th 2024.

 

 

The Visitor

By: Mary Beth Magee

You visit for a moment,

Accept a breath of hospitality,

Then dash away again.

You share your company briefly.

 

But in that time, oh,

The magic you bring.

From tiny eggs to instars

To gloriously patterned wing.

 

I watched you hatch and crawl,

Grow, shed and wriggle.

You change your dress. Your

New look makes me giggle.

 

You give me joy and delight

With your aerial ballet.

My royal friend, magician,

Harlequin at play,

 

Dear monarch, share your gift

Of grand, exuberant joy

With all. Give us eyes to

See, and feelings to employ.

 

You set an example

Of living in the moment.

Let us live so our days

Are likewise spent.

 

Dash on, my friend,

Your destiny calls.

Send your children my way

When the milkweed grows tall.

 

Spring Comes

By: Candlewitch

 

Fields of springy clover

beneath my barefoot toes,

dance-happy feet kick up

a delight everyone knows!

 

Green, green all around,

a heart full of joys untold

rolling over and over in

nature's paradise hold!

 

In gardens of my growing hopes

tulips, buttercups and crocus

flourish healthily blossoming,

as Spring comes into focus.

 

 

Vote Here

Neopoet Weekly 03/010/24 to 03/16/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

Dancing In The Dark  by  William Lynn

Congratulations to William Lynn on such a fine poem.

Neopoet Weekly 03/03/24 to 03/09/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

 

THE LAST RING by  Jokerface82

 

Congratulations to Jokerface82 on such a fine poem.

The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

Home

It is not
always
any port
in a storm
and yet
it could be.

As I Stood in Queue at the Shops One Day

Insulated from the world, listening
to whatever selection of music
I had decided would best protect me
from the perils of dull conversation
and the lives of even duller people,
I noticed a small child, at his mother's
hip, desperately concentrating on
the banana in his hands and I smiled
memories' involuntary smile as
I was instantly transported to days
filled with laughter and soft kindness and I
could not remember when I'd given up.

Prologue

Stillness
sheathed my need,
a gentle sheen
glistened your chest,
and my hands
yearned to reach
sliding my fingers
over your length.

But you beat me
with strokes on
the embonpoint,
tracing my navel
with the tips,
brushing my thighs
with your lips.

A rise of emotion
embodied my fervor
and flowed to surge,
as my mouth dried
limbs began to shake
this was the beginning
of a body quake

s t r a n d z a

embodied the tangle
and the brush
fair locks
full of sleep
and sunshine
dreams
and restless
dark winds

treasures
and keepsakes
coveted

Christian Words of Affirmation

I proclaim the love of Christ
I proclaim the love of Christ
I proclaim it in my heart
For the rest of my life;
I proclaim the love of Christ

Such a love that does not envy,
Suffers long and retains plenty;
Love as it bleed but not paraded itself,
Kind enough to die on the cross for all else.

… the love of Christ
I proclaim it forever.

Still Trying To Get Off This Mud-ball

The aliens won't ever come for me
when I'm lying in my bed at night.
Awakening, I'll never see
odd grey heads looming in my sight.

I won't ever feel the curdling shock
of strange grey creatures lifting me,
or the fearful sudden knock
of paralysis hit my sweating body.

They'll never take me to their ship
to do their weird examinations,
or tag me with a micro chip
to track my subsequent locations.

Silk

A veil of sadness
was pierced,
the fabric of sorrow
ripped.

In moments
a rippling silence
eschewed.

I was liberated
from a shroud
that bound my grief,
I am now a silken thread
fixed to spin,

in silent whorls.

Let your heart flow to me

I know you miss my silly talks,
the silence which speaks a lot,
the sharing in everything.
every moment day or night,
secretly wish to stick together
with every beep of our heart.

But you never say it...
Just let it out...,
Let your heart flow to me

The House of Memories

This used to be my home
where tears and laughter bloom
nothing fancy inside
but a love which shines bright

White paint on the old walls
now turned to shades of grey.
and here, i remember
the sound of children at play
and my father's deep voice
as he reads the Qur'an
while his students listen
accepting his guidance.

As I entered the rooms
I shared with my siblings,
I find myself missing
moments i hold so dear..
the childhood without fear

kid man!

Do you all know,
one day yet
to one's birthday
one is a child
and
a day after the 18th birthday
one becomes a man(woman)

now tell me
a crime committed on a day
short of 18
one is dealt with
like one was a kid
and
a day after he cuts the eighteenth slice
he becomes a man

then what is his position
as he cuts the cake
and
pierces his ex

will you treat him
as a man
o tell me
fair man!

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