Your Berries are Sweeter Than my Heavenly Wine. Tuesday's Inspiration 8 to Crezyl Joy Villa Sabrido
Audrey Howitt, my Dearest Nellieanna and others appear to be either too busy or taking a break, but Hub Pages are becoming lustred with great female poets. It is to one such poet that I offer these three pieces of Love, longing, nature's beauty and mystery. Thank you for your presence, Crezyl and welcome here.
Gratitude Supreme. A Free-style Sonnet
The mind flowed radiantly, on an emblazoned
Firmament; my Heart was a fire of purest joy.
My soul burned with intensity,
Touching the fountain of eons of knowledge.
I sprung out of my nakedness and longing,
Became a pilgrim, in this hallowed field of struggle.
Smiling and dancing, my inner sun ascends,
On a chariot of Light.
My mental cobwebs become disentangled;
I leave behind the shadows of the night.
Love has filled my Spirit, with the magic of its sweetness,
My dreams of millennia, are now fulfilled.
I die to the ego of my own doing,
As Love fills my Heart, with Gratitude Supreme.
Manatita, The Lantern Carrier. August 16th, 2015
Your Berries are Sweeter Than my Heavenly Wine
I thought I sung like magic, a kaleidoscope of
Eloquent words, waltzing on the colour of rainbows.
Yet the pressed berries, dripping from Your crimson lips,
Are so much sweeter than my heavenly wine.
I play a magical lute, editing its own symphonies,
Its chords resonating on scarlet horizons. Yet my Beloved calls: “Come! Come! Entreating only,
The intensity of longing in my soul.
O my Heart, thy travail is minimal; thy burden light.
This mind is cluttered and unkempt, like a garden fading
Post seasonal spring. No surprise then, that you are Love’s
Pet darling. I am a child spoilt by the allure of sensory toys.
You are a pinnacle of majesty, thy innate grandeur cooling
The flames of Paradise. I am a spark of pearls robed
In corals, lying on the rugged bed of aqua-marine waters.
“Come! Come!” The voice of Stillness calls. “Come!”
Let us ascend on a chariot of Light, sweet Shyama;
Pour into my soul, Your golden Silence.
-Manatita, The Lantern Carrier. 9th December, 2019
Dreams
She showed me the magical landscape of Ireland and my
Heart melted. I saw the verdant hue of the proud mountain
Across its seas, and began to dream.
The swift torrents rushing into my heart could not be measured;
I made silent promises to the crimson moon, I longed to keep.
Aye, my soul holds a thousand treads of emotions, I wish fulfilled:
Visionary dreams of colourful fauna in distant lands;
Mountain trails and valleys, lifting my troubled mind like
A winged-Pegasus, flying into the freedom of infinitude.
I walk miles on smooth sand, dancing on soft blue,
Aqua-marine waves of the Azorean scenery; the palms
Of the Andalucian beaches, whisper to my breath, “Venga!”
Dreams … just a sampling of unfulfilled desires.
Imagination, O imagination, Love has blessed you with the Light of endless
Possibilities, dancing in my bosom; hoping for an awakened sunrise.
Manatita, The Lantern Carrier, 5th December, 2019
"The agony of my Heart reached out,
To the vast indigo blue of the perennials.
The crimson clouds kissed my soul with beauty,
Her tears awash with dreams of yesteryear,
When She was free." -Manatita
Sweetness and beauty
A silent peace?
© 2019 manatita44
Comments
AUTHORThanks Dee for supporting Chris and family here. That was a beautifullll card from you. So thoughtful! Much Love.
What a beautiful early morning read! The photos are great too. The first gratitude quote is especially appealing. Thanks!
- AUTHOR
Perhaps it's exquisite precisely because you are trying to 'whine.'
Covering your feelings with lemon and honey is a skilfull job. Again, your last piece could easily have been taken from Heaven itself.
Thank you so much for gracing my page.
Why Manatita? I am crying right now. I almost can't believe that there are people who like my writings. To tell you my story, I was always criticized as a bad writer that's why am even here because I thought this is just like a 'diary' site where I can hide my feelings. But I am thanking God endlessly that I'm reading your words and it's giving me hope that somehow, I am really good. I am whiner, yes. But Manatita, this is so much, I don't know how to thank you for appreciating my works. Blessings to all of you❤
- AUTHOR
So gracious!
I feel like I,m reading a different you in these last few weeks. You were always there, of course, just seemingly soaring higher now, on your wings of Light. Gratitude
A beautiful poem with a great inner voice. A poet with a positive mind and of a talented writer sharing her poems with an open mind. Lady poets express freely what feel and know and this poet deserves this hub.
- AUTHOR
Actually Linda,
This poem is an attempt to speak of a most beautiful inner experience I had at our pilgrimage in New York. One of our girls group was playing some Bhajans - the songs of God-souls - when it happened.
Good to see you. Are you taking a rest?
Thank you, Brenda,
Appreciated. Glad you found her. She's a beautiful writer.
I love the idea of touching the fountains of eons of knowledge. Your poems contain many other ideas and thoughts that I love, too. Thank you for sharing them, Manatita.
Inspirational words...welcome Crezyl, we are friends already too.
These works of poetry are lovely.
- AUTHOR
Good to see you, Ruby. I must be getting better! (Sweet chuckle) How's Mt Richert? Much Love.
Poetry so beautiful, heavenly wine!
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- AUTHOR
You are still alive, my brother. Being as it's Christmas, I thought you were snowed under. Haha. Not seeing anything from you these days. Taking a rest?
Thank you, Bro.
Cresyl is a great poet.
I am so proud of you my brother! For this sublime welcoming to a Beautiful Soul, I've already followed. A piece of me is in these three prayers, I believe! Your sweet embrace is a divine gift for all of us.
Gratitude for the gift of poetry!
Sean
- AUTHOR
Thank you, Bill
A great poet, yes. Much Love.
We just became followers of each other, Cryzl and I. It is no surprise that you are in the mix as well. Let us all celebrate the poets of the world and sing their blessings.
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