Most Liked Ode Poems (274)

Sleep well my infant dear, gently rest
in your new world bathed with heavenly light;
Whilst I, with oceanic tears my grief invest,
for my infant dear, live in spheres of endless night,

Pray I therefor, your eyes grace a differing day,
annulling pain, which each earthy day did pass,
sad aching arms that once the loving breast did lay,
that unquestionable love, wherein the Motherly heart amass,

Thus, heart torn and wrenched, alone in morbid solitude,
empty the yearning arms, relegated to despondent shade,
wet the woeful eyes, yet love's vision still intrude,
for betwixt us both, corridors shall ne'er be slayed,

Nurtured I, your all too shorter days, sanctified no less
though sadly brief, lovingly proud, I happy bore
thee to my breast, my whole being did so address,
yet now in grief, wished that I could have done more,

I, in fruitful sorrow still your passing pine,
for our hopes and what might have been,
to daily watch the rich progression of the vine
amid the fields of life bathed in youthful green.

In awesome wonder, bemused with naive gaze,
glanced I, upon the garden's flower'd sprays,
keen of eye, gathered there upon a wondrous spree,
enhanced by filtered shades of nearby protective tree,
exhibiting splendour by Nature's woven braid,
Zephyr kissed, where dancing breezes played
from Dawn's soft light,'til eve's fired close,
weaves coloured sweet, a bouquet of repose,

Blessed quietude, abounds my garden here,
akin to infant innocence, happy smiles spun dear,
each flowered season here I joyous spend,
ne'er to question, man's questions of why or when,
cloistered hours, its sacred aura breathing know,
humble adoration amid plants that nature sow,
mocks human society, oft, course low and rude,
thus my sanctuary, found amid this flowered solitude,

Oft have I, Summer bathed amid a velvet carpet green,
my honoured eyes, have, in silent blushing wonders seen,
Yet methinks, how brazen lovers would the oceans tame,
with profanities pomp, and for posterity carve their name
thoughtless, upon the bark of some proud tree,
weave conceited hope, the world their name to see
as loose lipped devotion, temporarily to be found,
highlight fragility, proud tree alone the world astound.

At each day we rise we get to write a new page
Discovering what is most alive in us and releasing it to others
During the day we contribute to each others novel
Challenged by life’s ups and downs we write our stories
As the day wares on we get to turn the page
We pen thoughts in conversation and in actions too
Speak with a listening ear of that you have heard or seen
Our version of the news will get the story out
Life is flowing through our hearts with words like a well written script
Don’t be in a rush to be a hero when all you need is common sense
We cannot detach or ignore wisdom, even in its simplest form
Don’t let fear be your failure; your mind is an eraser so plot it out
At the end of the day when your story is written close the book and start again tomorrow

Conquering new territories climbing up the stairway
new beginnings hanging on the edge of a dream
an empire arises from dark ashes flash petals catch one gem

Through honeycombed dewdrops softly spinning
golden the sparkle upon your tabernacle silken touch
vision of deep beauty shines immaculate heart

Beholding rose gold sparkles crown
sugar coating light dazzling before the eyes
crystal sparks ignite rainbow gleams

Through a mist of tears travelling one picture
everything shrinks in your shadow perfect
sunbeams warmly come alive

Touching clouds dancing with teardrops
falling over an angel salted from the ocean
seagulls lament faraway distant overseas calls



(Unrhymed Tercet)