Tag Archives: rhyming

Poetry: Silent Mist

Silent Mist

Silent mist
within the night
what is this
what is this

Ancient ruler
seeping into
the trees
slowly spreading
foul disease.

I am the
dreaded necromancer
of a
woeful gloom
creator and catalyst
of a
heinous doom.

Pewter powder
hellish gore
my poison
the forest floor.

I bring my shadows
from the deep
to imprison all
within my keep
to suffer
an eternal
insufferable sleep.

Poetry: Misty Moon

Misty Moon Poetry by Robert M. Levasseur

Misty moon
beyond the trees
ancient remnant
of the earth
she sees.

Sphere in flight
battered and tossed
solitary sentinel
of the world
she lost.

Shadowed orb
behind her veil
sighing her sad
and lonely tale.

Beyond my gaze
you hold a stare
a mournful glow
naked and bare.

Poetry: Christmas Tree

Written after my boys went back home to their mother, 20 years ago.

star sits on
christmas tree
it blinks and winks
fades away. Decorated
for a holiday, our tree stands
in its shiny finery. Little wooden
soldiers with a gingerbread man, jolly
santa dangling with deer in a glen. Golden
bugle blowing angels, heralding the king, silver
shiny icicles sit on the bottom dangling. We put such
love into this tree and we revel in its majesty, reflections
of our memories are kept within each golden orb. All the joys
from all seasons past kept inside each shiny glass, these mirrored
globes reflecting our past. Year after year they’re packed slowly away,
some did not show up today, they were crushed and broken along the way.
My sons got me more, so we put them on I’ll cherish them from dusk till dawn
the night is done
my boys are gone
but yet I will keep
the tree lights on.

The Original Poem From 2000

Poetry: Crystal Dancers

Poetry Crystal Dancers

pirouette then
twirl and spin
carried by the gusting wind.
Partners quickly join and sway
cascade and waltz through the day.
Crystal dancers in their dance
a splendid lover’s trance.
Fast fading snow
winters theatre

Poetry: What Sage

Poetry What Sage

What sage who ever came
could ever come again
just to trace dusty steps
he paced within his den.

To ponder worldly truths
to figure them for lies
and spit sour blades of grass
between his sorrowed sighs.

To kneel to pray to cry
to a God without name
and move in tattered robes
which cloak his fragile frame.

Where is this wisest one
who keeps secure the key
one that leads to our worlds
he’ll be where he will be.

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