Joyce Chelmo

Joyce Chelmo Poems

Can’t stop looking at your picture,
Your beauty a blaze from within.
The attraction would

the first time we saw
her was last fall
she was standing
in a patch of grass

i got carried away
cleaning winter dust
out of my front porch
& threw my back out

Amidst the dull maize sunset
and the chill of soon to come night.
I wait for darkness to descend, a welcome friend.
My muse rises from depths, a whisper

After a long day on the steering
end of her old canoe, when the
only light shimmering on the lake
was the vanilla moon of late July.

One night while playing
a game in pogo
in a moment of weakness
I actually chatted

Nearly reached your hand this time;
I know if you’re there,
it has to be a good place.
If we’d touched,

Memories of you enfold me
through the chill of lonely nights.
Every tiny bud has the right
to bloom.

There's a pain I live with
that's gently wrapped
itself around my heart
woven into every fiber of my being.

She captures the eye of the dark horse.
Something about the intensity
in which they glare
that hypnotizes her,

He walks reverent
on stone paths in
the Garden of Seiryoji
where nature’s

Leaning against the door frame
holding myself,
watching the coral sunset.

He likes to reconstruct
every poem he reads....
until it fits his style
of rhyme and meter.

my family used to visit
an old bachelor
who lived in a cabin
surrounded by birch trees.

bathing stress away
the phone rings
i plug my nose
sink slowly


I was thinking about
how I love the way
a wheat field looks
when the wind blows;

It starts somewhere deep in the soul
like a growl,
and when you find your voice
it becomes a scream;


Her brown eyes peek
through leaves cautiously.
Sudden movement frightened
her into this forest hiding place.

She’s like a long stemmed
crystal glass of crimson whine,
sat on a tabletop and a pebble.
The slightest vibration

Joyce Chelmo Biography

I've been writing since I was a teen. However I have only been writing poetry about six years. I was raised near Boundary Waters in Minnesota, and some say I love trees more than people. I am also a visual artist. My specialty is colored pencil on black paper. My subject is my first love landscapes, gardens, the wilderness, old structures.)

The Best Poem Of Joyce Chelmo

A River

Can’t stop looking at your picture,
Your beauty a blaze from within.
The attraction would
not be there if it were not
for the essence you offer.

A cool drink for a parched soul.

A lake gathering fresh waters
of wisdom
from the flow of your river.
Mesmerized, captured, infatuated.
I want to drink you,
a lake refuses no river.

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