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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.

 

the railway track!

the railway track!

if the train driver is
a married man he will
apply brakes
then take you home
where you will awake
in unknown arms
slumbering sweet
mouth full of chocolates
God gave him a sweet bunny
one he needed

MOST!

Restless but not Restricted

Boundless Feelings, boundless Emotions
when it comes to express them we are bounded
so much to say but we hardly utter
so much to say but we are short of words
some time we get few words but we hardly open up
want to share & exchange but we prefer quiet
need someone who can decode expressions
someone who can provide exact meaning
but we all fail as we try to pursue words
all we need to read those eyes
in quiet & placid they keep talking
for sorrow or happiness they keep dropping

D E B A U C H E > . . .

can't seem to see
the floodplain me
our hostel imprint glassware time
escapes our shell
Your heart in mine

this sadness beads of
atrophy
still rushed in turpid
meaning crush

come with our duster
dreams cloaked
damp The misting rains
that turn hope black
our naked room
with trembling timid
fingers on our backs

the bare breast haste
the passion rage
our loins brazen
with the spring
and now
our fall

In search for peace

I once walked
with the empty streets
to meet the dawn
but they never took me there-
where peace could be found.

Instead they led me
to life's lamenting shores
where I endlessly talked
to the empty shells,
to the broken waves,
and to the withering sands
just to find out that
peace has there
forever drowned.

nosegay

from freshly turned soil
nostalgia drifts
a raw sweet aroma
born of the season's virgin breath

space billows
reveals a stage
the light of my past beckons softly
and I return to a scene
that count has concealed

shadows shimmer in deep eddies
melodious tones
of times now long gone
fresh paint, new carpet
pristine polished timber -
the feel, the comfort of my very first home

WINGS

WINGS

I seek no magic
no Christmas dreams
no childhood anticipation
of exciting things
no wanderings into fantasy
and imagination.
I have no place to hide
any more.
I have no wings

Canto Six ~ Gundhag the witch returns home and immediately sets about the difficult task of determining the truth of the mystical child’s presumed possession. She is not entirely convinced the Arch Demon Childéan Kew resides within the boy.

Bits

Doing it bare with you
was like running over broken glass
the absolute thrill of it
would dip my soul in fire

But our world has ended
The blankets are no more
the chore of breathing has become-
A keepsake I cannot discard

The last dregs of our affair
Catch in my throat
The walls have liquefied,
and the sky has fallen
Crushing us
damning us to ashes without hope

I live near a park

it has many swings
none are ever empty ...
during day,
young gals and kids run around

during midday teens abound
till the evening....
yet at the stroke of nine
the moon when it does shine
many gals and guys one finds
entwined,
see-sawing and swinging
in happy unison
the garden is like Eden

The dreams of youth

In streams and currents gently flow our dreams,
to leave the conscious nap and rest awhile.
Away they carry anguished inner screams,
from worried, busy walking streets that rile.

Most dreams don't often last and shortly thrive.
They almost fade, unably pass-unmaintained.
While wished to ever live in frames alive,
they'll be forgotten once they pass–non gained.

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