A small poem is
Short, at least,
or not as long as
I would have it.
Slow down and
Believe me,
Time will come.
© 2025 soulmary
Category: #Poetry
A Skillful Dancer Lingers Not
***
I wish I could dance as skillfully
as planes move along the runway –
without a quaver.
But my feet fell prey to the rugged floor
wrapped in the veil of shabby notes.
And so, this fun went on until
the dream turned to a virus
which simply lingers
with no name
and no paper attached to it.
© soulmary, 2025
Yesterday, a great wordle was suggested at the Sunday Whirl – #720 – virus dance name note lingers runway rugged quaver paper prey veil wish. I tried to do these words justice.
Windblown
Have I ever wondered about the speed of events succession
And the rapid stream my thoughts follow
While I’m awake?
Is the grass in the field really made of blades that
Swing to the slow rhythm of my thoughts
When I’m asleep?
If I stand on the mountain top,
Supposing I can ever reach that once more,
Will I see the treetops bending in the wind
That refreshes my thoughts?
Or the dry yellow grass burnt by summer sun
Trembling in that same wind
That stings my eyes and makes me cry?
© soulmary, 2025
***
Today, I spent time at the beach and I thought of the mountains. My favourite mountains, where I’ve found so much inspiration, serenity and beauty. And then, I came home, had a coffee and checked the poetry prompts. Wow, here is one that brought back the picture of the dry yellow grass just under Vihren Peak. Windblown, indeed. Yay, long live the Ragtag Daily Prompt!
#RDP #RagtagDailyPrompt
A Walk in the Woods
Today, I found the time to visit one of my favourite prompt sites – D’Verse, and here’s what I wrote to their Tuesday Poetic prompt:
Let Me Take You To The Forest Of Our Youth
Again, and stay there with you under the dark green
Branches of the trees and relish
our kiss.
The trees look eternal, so does our love.
The grass we step on is a mixture of softness and pricky-ness.
The air – rich in odours and slumber, full of terrors and wonders.
The forest of our youth, beyond which nothingness rules
Where we don’t care to walk or look for friends
For all we need is here, under our feet and in our hands.
© 2025, soulmary
Gleaming with Mercy
Sunday Whirl #707 – a great wordle as always. Here is my offering for this week’s mix.
When I gaze at the train
That slowly drags
along its brand-new tracks,
I see the scars mimicking the sky,
in vague attempt to get behind the shadows
And I hear the gossip rustling
On the altar where legacy of all fights
Burns
Gleaming with mercy,
And full of love.
© 2025, soulmary
For some more great poems using this wordle, visit Brenda’s wonderful blog! It will be a nice, comforting and energising experience!
Day 11 – Nature Is Forever
Day 11 of April PAD – a Nature poem
Is this the rain I am hearing?
Are these the sun rays cutting through the air?
Believing or hoping,
Expecting or letting go –
All these are part of our endless circle,
The truth and the delusions
Which we wade into while walking
Sliding, trudging or simply trying
To reach the dream on the mountain top
Our heart’s desire
Where we’ll rest and get inspired for the
Difficult climb down
Which proves harder than the aspired achievement
We’ve just accomplished.
Wow! If it isn’t so much to process!
Just let me take a short breath and rest.
© 2025, soulmary
Day 8 – Love Is Endless
NaPoWriMo Day 8
Two for Tuesday – Love poem/Anti-love poem. As usual, I choose a love poem.
Love Is Endless
Seeing us look in the same direction
As in the days of our youth,
Eyes more tired now, lips less plump,
I still see the boy who magicked my heart
And who made me believe we are
The rulers of this world.
Hearing us share the same jokes and laugh
At those same old places, exclamations all the same,
I still hear the ring of your voice that cajoled me to peace
And eternal belief that life is good and love is endless.
© 2025, soulmary
Endless – Poetic Bloomings 530
The snowy days of frost and glitter seem endless albeit charming and pristine. This inspired this week’s prompt at Poetic Bloomings #530 – Endless. Of course, I could have followed a different path of interpreting the prompt word, but as winter has been really persevering in my neck of the woods, it sounded only natural to me to slide with the icy flow.
Like a line of cars on the motorway,
Similar to a string of beads made by a child,
are the days of winter – white as sparkling glitter
beautiful, yet somewhat slow.
All the glorious seasons crawl up to our welcome,
Then bore us with their routine lore,
So we wish them gone and over –
That endless chain of ice then bloom,
Of sizzle and then drizzle –
The never-ending chain of seasons in our home.
© 2025 soulmary
Sunday Whirl 695
Sunday is funday and time for poetry. Here is the Sunday Whirl pool of words and below is my offering.
Friends burn down all locks,
Echoes fade away with time.
Out there, voices show power.
The second we know brilliance as we see it,
Is the one we live for.
© 2025, soulmary
Amber Auntie Visiting
Obviously, today is a day for poetry. Here is a poem I wrote after two different prompt web sites, both strong favourites of mine. One prompt comes from Three Things Challenge #M977 – Aunt; Ash; Amber. The other was suggested this Wednesday at the Writers Digest poetic blog #731 – Home
Each amber summer, my sweet and lovely aunt would visit
Oh, how we played and danced under random trees outside!
The beach was ours, too – not just the park.
Oh, how we hopped the waves – yelling, screaming, laughing!
The castles we built during the day;
The pastry she taught me to bake at dusk;
And all the cute stories and small gossip we shared…
Before the home we dwelt in, and all its memories,
And pictures with them, turned to ash
Which got sprinkled over a mystery field
Out of reach of anyone living.
© 2025, soulmary