POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.


“True silence is the rest of the mind; it is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment.”  –  William Penn

What soothes you? What is it that puts you in a state of comfort? When all else seems to be crashing down around you, what offers you hope?

Take us to your happy place and let’s see if it works for us!


Hot tea
roaring fire
soft robe, warm from dryer
smooth jazz
hot bath
hand-in-hand, strolling path
good read
white wine
heavy snow on soft pine
porch swing
easy chair
deep pillow
earnest prayer 

© Copyright Marie Elena Good -2013




The savage breast is soothed in arms
of music’s hidden devil charms,
a lilting soft melodic touch
that keeps a soul quite safe from harm.

A respite from life’s stress and woes,
all meant to ease where e’er it flows.
a tune of beauty to start this bloom;
the seed, its rhythm sows.

I seek this music in my life,
symphonic sounds to lessen strife.
Placate my spirit – lift my heart,
enhance this dance of life!

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik -2013

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279 thoughts on “TRUE SILENCE – PROMPT #97

  1. My Safe Haven

    When I’m confused, angry,
    Frustrated, or just plain sad,
    I retreat to that special corner
    Where my piano stands.
    The soft feel of the keys,
    Black and white,
    Soothing my mind,
    The beautiful strains
    Of Chopin, Mozart, Bach,
    And Schubert, not to mention
    Tchaikovsky, delighting my ears;
    Somehow nothing seems
    That hard anymore.
    Music is my haven,
    Like Dad’s arms wrapped tight
    Around me, safe and warm,
    Music gives me peace.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  2. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    Both Beautiful!! Oh… I think that I am going to like, umm, Love this prompt!

  3. Laurie Kolp on said:

    Ensconced in His Love

    I hear you in the birds early morning rise
    See you in their colors, a sparkle in my eyes

    I feel you in the breeze that titillates my cheeks
    A tender reassurance you will not leave me weak

    When I choose to call on you and wait for a response
    I know it’s my best interest, in your love I will ensconce

    Listen for your voice speaking from my heart
    This is where my comfort lies, from which I’ll never part

  4. She Is Not a Dog Barking in the Night, or a Star

    Wars, greed, starvation. Pendulum
    depression, joint pain: she can’t sleep.

    Lies stiff and close-eyed. Dark trains arch
    far river bridges, east then south,

    their horns like hounds she remembers
    hearing from a winter bedroom

    bell the cold hills, ice dog stars
    barking as if with joy. She wraps

    more warmth around aching shoulders
    and imagines hickory fire
    and a room nodding with a rocking chair.

  5. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    Quiet Comfort

    want to
    find my rest,
    my peace, in your

  6. Marie, I smiled as I danced through your poem, exhaling in peace at the ending! So brilliant and smooth. Walt, another fabulous rubyaiyat…and I agree, the arms of music carry us away.

  7. Somehow, I made it here early today. Think I was inspired by Walt’s and Marie’s steller rhyming this morning.

    “A comfort borne”

    Where beauty lies and beckons me
    that’s where my mind soothests me
    under the woolly warmth of love,
    the morning tunes of sparrow song,
    an arch of knowing
    a graceful touch
    the scent of prayer
    on evening’s air
    aloft on wings
    with candles flared,
    a hymn
    to share
    with friends who care,
    a gentle hug
    in tenderness,
    our burdens aired
    our burdens bared,
    a moment’s breath upon
    the storm,
    upon my knees-

    a comfort borne.

    Here laughter sings of lofty things
    and earth’s vibrations sail,
    away in thundered mutterings,
    here in this friendship lair,

    Here soothing sighs of relief reign,
    Here two hands grip the silent veil,
    Here lovelorn hearts are shorn
    by halves-

    a comfort borne.

  8. Solace

    Soft surrender like no other
    It’s a bit like coming home
    To the arms of gentle mother
    In the comfort of a poem

    Timeless treasure tunes the silence
    Promises from God to men
    Murmur in the troubled darkness
    As His whisper moves my pen

    Ache of longing, fear of morrow
    Flows in quiet tenderness
    Melding pleasure, pain and sorrow
    In this think-in-ink caress

    Healer of heart-ache and hunger
    Troubadour of sonnet-song
    Passion, prayer and promise murmur
    In the solace of a poem

    © Janet Martin

  9. You drew me in with your first line: “like coming home
    To the arms of gentle mother In the comfort of a poem.”

  10. What soothes you? What is it that puts you in a state of comfort? When all else seems to be crashing down around you, what offers you hope?
    Take us to your happy place and let’s see if it works for us!


    Acceptance, as I breathe its air today.
    ‘Tis comfort food to know that I may throw
    a trouble in the past, long dead, away;
    nor feast upon a future that might sway.

    My joy is in the fortune of the Now
    not ever in the past of sad regret.
    Old troubles may renew beneath my plow;
    new earth; new seed are better to endow.

    A glory is before me, like the dove
    who sings no matter past or destiny;
    who sings because this life is hers to love;
    this moment, as she sings from limb, above.

  11. Pingback: comfort | Rough Words


    A fear of oxymora overuse
    I say anyway:

    Oh, Love’s the sweetest sadness;
    the deafening silence of your ubiquitous absence;
    the welcome pain
    of Love’s healing graces;
    the sharp-angled turns
    in the circle of Forever;
    tears wrung dry
    from a heart still weeping;

    Oh, Love– brightly darkened night!
    Oh, Love– darkly lightened day!

    the howling rage
    of muted Love;
    the unremembered memory
    of Love’s sweetest sadness.


  13. Marie, this one’s for you…

    human sea

    giant waves of sound collide
    and cancel, all eyes upon
    the comet coming down

    bodies pile beneath the rim
    air thin as February ice
    and all I can think is

    how I want to dive,
    arms outstretched
    into this dreaming space

    between experience and hope
    tumbling in the air
    as the buzzer sounds

  14. claudsy on said:

    Wild Places

    Deep forest hollows
    Where greens live beside browns,
    Where humankind is absent,
    Leaving the wild creatures
    To teach importance;

    This brings balance to mind.

    Sitting on shore’s dune
    Among grasses tested by sea winds,
    With gulls daring albatross to
    Bumble in landings comical,
    While seaweeds scent air;

    This brings scope to horizons.

    Scaling mountainsides
    Atop world’s rippled bedspread,
    To view distances broad and
    Alluring, pays for privileges
    Taken at crystal streams;

    This stretches one’s perspective.

    Staring at sky’s night lights
    On mental voyages of speculation,
    Bringing silent self-knowledge
    Of necessary paths yet to trod
    On soul’s journey home;

    This sweeps daily fog aside for clarity.

    Wild things know purpose,
    Without seeking explanations lair;
    Their silence speaks of inner
    Knowledge shared in wild
    Places admitting seekers.

  15. claudsy on said:

    Walt and Marie, you did so well this week with both prompt and your own offerings of poetic delight.

  16. Just a Laugh

    What calms my soul, in part or whole,
    is when I hear a cheery laugh.
    Wish it came bottled: a carafe
    or maybe in a punch(line) bowl?

    I think that mirth is my top goal,
    no matter pun (in rhyme) or naff,
    so when I hear a cheery laugh
    it calms my soul, in part or whole.

    The benefits, I can’t extol
    enough. In fact, there’s nothing daff
    about a guffaw or a gaff.
    It’s good to laugh sans self-control…
    it calms my soul, in part or whole.


  17. DebiSwim on said:

    Simple Treasures

    What brings me joy are simple things.
    An unread book upon my shelf
    A cup of aromatic tea
    A Ruby throated hummingbird
    an old movie on AMC.

    What gives me comfort as I age?
    My trusting grandchild’s hand in mine
    My love beside me in our bed
    His even breathing soothing, calm
    A mellow sun warm overhead.

    Where do I find the peace I crave?
    It comes to me in waves of love
    That wash upon my barren shore
    When I am in the greatest need
    The Son of God my peace restores.

  18. Silence is the Music

    Silence is the music
    that quiets a somber soul
    brightens every bitter corner
    strengthens wearied sole

    Silence is the music
    that endures another step
    whose marvelous cryptic haven
    throughout my way has kept

  19. Alone with Nature

    Alone with
    Winds teasing,
    Grass swaying;
    Here I stand,
    Clothed in
    His purity,
    Surrounded by
    His creation:
    Flowers blooming,
    Willows weeping;
    I feel like I
    Could touch the clouds,
    Those little, billowy,
    White puffs,
    Embroidered in
    That blue-grey sky
    With a gentle,
    Loving hand.
    Here I stand,
    Alone with
    Astonished by His
    Work of love.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  20. Simple

    By David De Jong

    A simple staple ration made since ages past
    Flour, salt, oil and yeast pressed to a flexing dough
    Heat cast of a fire brick oven with tempered glow
    Pleasing aroma raised to the heavens at last

    Golden crust of earthen harvested grains
    As the blade breaks through stirring fresh relief
    Heads bowed reverent in ancient belief
    Soft buttered succulence as it remains

    Snow lifts the earth in its hallowed white
    Shallow flames simmers hand crafted stew
    Essence of beef and vegetables through
    Coaxed to perfection melded delight

    Each in its own a treat to its self
    Paired as one a feast to make you sing
    You’ll dine in glory as if a king
    For in your hands is a simple wealth

    Comfort made at home from mother’s love
    A gift so plain still boundless in worth
    For memories gathered just past birth
    Heaven sent from our Father above

  21. Soothing (shadorma)

    Seagulls cry, swooping
    down to shore,
    lips salty
    tasting ocean’s depth, a roar
    of rushing water.

    Finger flames of fire
    rising from
    crackling logs,
    sparks jumping, snapping in hearth,
    cabin on a hill.

  22. janeshlensky on said:


    “Prayer is talking; meditation is listening.” Thaddeus Golas

    When I need silence, comfort, peace,
    when world noise clashes in my head,
    I try to slowly breathe and count,
    erasing white boards of my mind.

    I concentrate on seeing blank
    expanses, pure as falling snow
    until the noise has died away,
    and I can hear and then obey.

    I ask for nothing; I unthink—
    just wait and listen to my heart
    and sometimes spirit enters there
    to give me peace beyond all care.

    My worries, angers, fears dissolve;
    my knots untie and I can see
    how integrally silence serves
    to magnify the best in me.

  23. Soothe Me

    I won’t say no to a massage
    a mani-pedi and shampoo
    a kind of spiritual triage
    with purring cat and peaceful view.

    I won’t discourage lovely meals
    a spring bouquet and spot of wine
    or riding anything with wheels
    or lying on a beach supine.

    I want to listen to the birds
    and sing some old romantic song
    and make a space for pleasing words
    to manifest before too long.

    Bring me my glasses and my book
    and fill my glass from time to time;
    tuck me into a comfy nook
    and let me focus on sublime.

    Have a piano standing by
    so I can work off any stress,
    then we can have a piece of pie
    and feel we are blessed and can bless.

  24. A quilt
    soft pillow

  25. janeshlensky on said:

    Viv, I think sleep is highly under-rated. What a solace! a sweet and true poem.

  26. Eclectic Serenity (A Pantoum)

    Quite depends upon the occasion
    what thing will do the fix,
    a mathematical equation
    to work out all the ticks.

    What thing will do the fix
    when you need a bit of peace
    to work out all the ticks
    you might take a repairing lease.

    When you need a bit of peace
    I quite enjoy a cup of tea,
    you might take a repairing lease
    by lounging by the sea.

    I quite enjoy a cup of tea,
    the quite whispers of the breeze
    by lounging by the sea,
    though sometimes I tickle the ivories.

    The quite whispers of the breeze
    sooths my frantic soul,
    though sometime I tickle the ivories
    or take a little stroll.

    Sooths my frantic soul
    just to hold your hand in mine
    or take a little stroll
    also works just fine.

    Just to hold your hand in mine,
    close my eyes to thoughts –
    also works just fine
    to loosen all the knots.

    Close my eyes to thoughts
    a mathematical equation
    to loosen all the knots
    quite depends upon the occasion.

  27. The Distance Within

    What matter if it’s day or night,
    Any old hour will do
    All I need is plenty of light
    And I can slip away
    Into some other tangled life
    In a time both old and new.

    “There is no frigate like a book”
    A poet once did write
    And many a voyage I’ve taken upon
    A pillow and flashlight
    While night circled about my room
    I roamed the streets of cities far away
    Viewed many a sadder sight

    Than I might believe I was suffering.
    Those lessons from the past
    Stirred by a stranger’s imagination-
    My contemplative views of worlds so vast
    That mine might disappear into
    Some imaginary ocean.

  28. Things that Comfort Me

    A baby’s giggle, a toddlers laugh
    A warm lavender bubble bath
    Christian music, a happy dream
    Hot tea with sugar and cream

    A drifting kayak, a sister’s call
    Cheery colors of a sunlit fall
    Strong shoulders, an acoustic guitar
    A country ride in an open car

    A nature walk, a crackling fire
    A friend’s words to inspire
    Rain drumming softly on the roof
    Comfy chair, some noodle soup

    Crocheted afghan, chocolate mint
    Clean pajamas against my skin
    A purring kitty on my lap
    A friendly smile, an afternoon nap

    A bubbling creek, a mountain view
    A whispered prayer, love that’s true
    Ocean waves, a bedtime story
    Bible promises of hope and glory

  29. Pingback: Broken: A Place Of Peace | echoes from the silence

    (a shadorma)

    mare – scared, flinching; eyes
    flash wildly
    with fear and
    her very soul is laid bare –
    his whispers soothe her.

    P. Wanken

  31. Just Drive

    Don’t way a word. Just put them right there on the coffee table,
    back away, and nobody will get hurt. I need those car keys
    right now. More than the right to vote, to remain silent,
    to pack heat, I need the right to drive. No one in the car but me,
    radio turned up full blast, windows rolled down, sun roof open,
    I feel the need for speed, for curves, for mountain vistas.
    I ache for the sameness of the interstate scenery, rock walls,
    tall pines, the same signs for gas and fast food at every exit.
    I want to keep rolling, to drive away from the tedium, tension,
    talk talk talk, to see my life in the rearview mirror, horizon
    through my windshield. Let me divide the time between now
    and bedtime, emptying my mind of all but this song, this sky,
    shifting my life into cruise control. Fear not. I’ll turn around,
    circle back to where I started, back home to you, a fresh new me.


    As twilight skitters from the sky
    Constellations contrive their design
    And I am drawn to where it is you lie
    To breathe deep, rest, and realign

    Constellations contrive their design
    While I draw strength from you
    To breathe deep, rest, and realign
    Beside your grave I lie now too

    While I draw strength from you
    All worry falls away and peace arrives
    Beside your grave I lie now too
    With each breath, it’s as if you survive

    All worry falls away and peace arrives
    As twilight skitters from the sky
    With each breath, it’s as if you survive
    And I am drawn to where you lie

    (a pantoum)

  33. Rows of Comfort

    By David De Jong

    What comforts what consoles?
    What brings calm to grievous souls?

    To find relief from mental toil
    Kneel between the rows, till the soil
    Shuffling knees, the smell of dirt
    Worry soaking through my shirt
    Softly tending nature’s yield
    Earnestly praying in the field

    Ah for a man to be on his knees
    Interpreting summer evening breeze
    Harkened whispers of soft spoken leaves
    Scents of freedom the clouds over-sees
    Watching eagles grace the crest of trees
    Who am I, surely the least of these?
    Given purpose, our Creator’s ease
    His glory abounds upon our knees

    Each row done a prayer complete
    Slow to stand on trembled feet
    Worries removed and cast aside
    Weeds of Eve’s tempter’s pride
    Each row stand clean, strong and fast
    Just as my Savior weeds my past

  34. Finding Comfort

    Comfort lives
    In quiet moments,
    Stolen time
    To just breathe
    And linger in memories
    Of who I once was.

  35. Watercolor Praise

    A watercolor sunset gives
    Such peace to me,
    And watercolor trees and birds
    Bring out the calm in me.
    To have a brush in my hand
    And paint on my nose,
    To have music while I work,
    Paint spots on my toes.
    A painter, through her brush and paints
    Can glorify her God,
    As well as nature she lives in,
    Lifting her work to laud.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  36. The Lake’s Lap

    I sit
    to spill my own

    I breathe
    to know my own

    I listen
    to hear my own


  37. Pingback: The Lake’s Lap | Whimsygizmo's Blog


    This winter’s been a force
    for the reckoning. It’s
    left us raw
    and battered,
    and there’s been no respite
    for us. No hospice
    for bruised hearts,
    and we cling
    to our senses. Our touch,
    our smell, our hearing; we’ve
    death’s three bells –
    swollen eyes
    and welled tears.
    Our emotions ride high-tides,
    overflowing, and I
    watch your eyes
    that twinkled
    with the best an evening star
    could offer, and now
    there’s a dull
    sheen to them.
    Your skin isn’t quite as firm
    as before, and I know
    that things aren’t
    quite the same
    anymore. And then I
    smell coffee, a swaying
    pressing through
    ground beans, hot
    and sultry and steaming,
    and then you settle
    the newspaper
    with a disciplined shake,
    and I share a pot of berries
    for our cereal …
    and then I know that
    eventually everything
    will be okay,
    although never
    quite the same as it was before.

  39. Pingback: Respite | Misky

  40. Solace

    There is something to be said
    for dark chocolate
    a glass of icy-sweet moscato
    Bach in the air
    the heat turned up a notch
    (or maybe two)
    one small stuffed bunny on the side.

  41. Pingback: The secret message for peace? | Metaphors and Smiles

  42. The secret message for peace?

    It is written in Cheerios and Lego braille beneath one’s couch.
    The code is obscured by over-grown dust-bunnies.
    Some will not find rest unless every last item has a place
    or every wall must bear a new color,
    each floor board’s polished mirroring sad out of touch faces.
    No, there’ll be no joy in conducting oneself like this.
    Nor will one find true mindfulness-
    bliss in the escape to cybernetic worlds,
    words whirled and magically spent
    leaves one bereft of actual human contact
    renders one deaf to those that are physically in the room,
    robs you from the ones that are right there with you.
    They need you.
    Can you hear them?
    Look into their eyes.
    I believe this intangible peace lies there,
    within them.
    Become present-
    simply be.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2013

    This poem is inspired by a conversation that Marie and I had on FB…the first line is an excerpt of mine…we were talking about time and its speed and children being the cause of this…

    So, all week I had this poem in mind after I missed the Sunday before last prompt…I had to add mine in…I didn’t feel right missing prompt!

    Also, just as I was settling down to write this poem with a cup of tea, (Yogi Tea…love them, they have tea bag quotes!!), mine said: The best way of life is to be, simply be. I couldn’t agree more…a good note to end a poem about peace on so thank you Yogi Tea for that one. 😉

    Warm smiles to everyone!

    • Oh, Hannah, this is beautiful!

    • Oh, my sweet friend … what an amazing piece. Truth – beautifully, simply, and ever-so-creatively stated.

      This is why I love you. Your heart shines like few others.


      • Oh, Marie!! I was just coming back here to state that I disagree with my poem on the point about relationships…cyber ones…because there is a definite handful of very genuine and love-filled friendships that I would not have if it weren’t for that cyber-world….and in the same breath I must always try to maintain balance…it can be so tricky.

        I didn’t want anyone to misunderstand my thoughts and feelings about that point. Because I love you, too my friend…BIG love to you…you make my heart so happy with your kind comments and presence in my/our cyber-world!! ♥

      • And so I meant to say…in all those words spilled I missed these…thank you, Marie. ♥

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