Promising pastel colors
Drinking every drop
Where the love goes it follows
Rain bows to roses
Spring has treasures told
Gently birthed from the first rain
When summer sun seeps
Lily of the valley sleeps
Rise in the midnight
The talk of the town
Whispers of wild affairs
Tulips are silenced
Eye popping pansies
For all the flowers of the world, beauty
takes many shapes and colors, open
your petals, embrace the sun, and thrive!
Where are the Orchids?
I have never seen one bloom.
They're all in Jan's room!!
TO THE FLOWER
Your scent beckoned my weeping heart to painless flight;
amidst a garden where God dusts His pretty love.
Spring tints are pure and fragrant, free of guise.
Your hues painted another sunrise for my eyes;
when once I failed to catch the pledge of morn.
A seed of hope was born to white petals blush.
Though there are silhouettes of bitter yesterdays
must all the phantoms of illusions fade and leave...?
Your floating aroma stirred and shot my nerves;
inspiring a nightingale to sing some joyous laments;
It swayed with grace to dance on wind's despotic beat.
among the rustling leaves which hug the earth below;
So like the sun, which from distant horizon smiles;
it roused the sleepy world to begin the pen of baby prose.
The unfolding mystery of your petals brought
my bewildered mind to peacock's reflection.
Alas! All was transient. These eyes probe beneath
but were blinded by the intrusion of some stray shine;
Ambitions which from afar are building sprout;
t'is that which let this self to irksome doubt.
Lovely blossom of the wild, this sojourner nigh
to tame your perfume's sweet stinging scent.
A restless soul by some wicked, destiny pokes;
someone called--- but pity, I couldn't tell a note.
If by magic, a butterfly I could become;
Let it be over my being slowly span.
Then with you
(though the specters in our midst are fierce),
I could jet fly though miseries without fear.
But am just a mortal of faith that blows this wish
for only covenants call for my journey still?
I cannot be forever the one who would share your sweetness;
(Harken, fairies of blooms, this wilderness is not my lair.)
I shall not want to witness you wilt as no time left to stay.
Never again will you see me at day-break's bloom,
save something special for others to experience you.
This fleeting apparition I so adored;
promised me burgeoning petals.
"Be not afraid as seasons change,
beyond today, I won't be here to see that no harm
be done with all intentions to your sacred charm.
I leave you to Mother's Nature tender care,
for I must go to some greater musing-- heaven's ground.
Wilt not, as soon the rain will dash, refreshing you my dear.
If I return someday--
will your sublime scent still be here?"
Inspired by Susan Seddon Boulet's painting:
© Olive Eloisa Guillermo
October 20, 2014
Contest Name Free Verse, Prose Poetry, haibun
Sponsor Debbie Guzzi
expert seducer with soft silky lips, silver blue moon
sweetly kisses a slumbering beauty awakening desire;
greeting her lover, Night-Blooming Jasmine unfolds perfumed petals
“A Flowers Wilt”
Witness the small existence
that abides the beauty of-----------
Freelancers all around,
Just to get a good look.
A baneful abrasion, the flower took
It captivates you -------------
Reels you, steals from you,
Until you pick the right flawless touch.
Dandelions swaying thin,
Here we fall like petals.
Ready to exploit, the beauty of-------
Inhale the fragrance,
Courtyard azure eyes,
Embarking in a wishful eternity,
A crush they become, when loveliness up and left.
A bully against arrogant, threw feminine perfumed veils
Tulips waiting for the better auspicious’ sky
Asters claims the eclipse's,
-dinginess censors it from the brilliance of the sun.
A lonely rose
In My Helix World-
The out-and-out are born.
Cries in the dimness,
A sweet Lotus echo’
Slight yelps of agony, carried off by pollen breeze.
The earth revolves to fast,
Injections of herbal essence in the wind
For a split second, we feel pixie dust
Channel the essential, it fades
Earlier beauty, calmness-
A flourish smile,
Rusk of flower, a bluebird’s bread.
Like candles and dew, they stream and limber energy
Opposing others of its humanity,
Against the command of its importance,
Pierced by its own elegance,
Thriving slowly of its own will,
A short story, gone stray!
Tonight, we plant a tree,
The Flower wilts
The gardener cries
Impose your will on the pretty flowers as you may
Trans-formative wonderment of nature
Entrenched, defiled, they pop up any way in clusters
Vivacious are the colors above the solid stem
Cut cold to death, decay and pain, to follow winters grip
Excellence defined in the ability to survive
Dangerous are the forces that persist to derogate them
Yet they prevail against all odds
Death comes but they regenerate
Grass is their shield. Dirt is their pillow there
Negative winds carry with them ice
Reds and yellows grow on below the sun
Visceral, strangled roots, fragile faces, petal soft, grow cold
Ingenious species, green with envy on the leaf, rise again
A Cacophony of nature’s birds and bees disturbs the peace
Flowers come in abundance, remain, friendly on the green
Distinguished in divine fashion, exquisite, generous to the last
Elevated smiles on pollen grains contain the seed of life
Flowers emerge, aware of life
11/22/14 Poetry Contest - "Encounters With Flowers"
In praise of God
God, I’ve read about you
In all the holy books
I have read the Bible
In the Gita I have looked
I’ve perused through the Ti te ching
In all, I see what’s true
So here I am with many praises
All written just for you.
I write with sweet sincerity
When I praise you for these words
I praise you for the flowers
I praise you for the birds
I praise you for the lakes, and rivers
And the oceans too
I praise you, praise you, praise you!!!
For everything you do.
I cannot follow words, just words
But I can look at life
And see all that is beautiful
And when my time is rife
I know I will be with you
Just like I am today
Oh God, with sweet sincerity
These words of praise I say
4 October 2014
Colored wildflowers form
In fields of grassy green
They don’t recall, the day they were born
They only love to be seen.
In fields of grassy green
They claim their place in life
They only love to be seen
Though they are, scarred by strife.
They claim their place in life
They beautify the land
Though they are, scarred by strife
They’re placed by Gods’ own hand.
They beautify the land
Like colors on a palette
They’re placed by Gods’ own hand
They couldn’t grow without it.
Like colors on a palette
They blend well in a field
They couldn’t grow without it
At home there, they can feel.
They blend well in a field
Wildflowers that are born
At home there, they can feel
Colored wildflowers form.
The Fall of The Winter King
He had risen to power
fueled by a vicious and ruthless determination
to reclaim a lost throne.
His tactics had stunned the unsuspecting,
laid barren the fields,
blanketed the forest,
silenced the sounds of life itself.
A dictator, seeking no counsel,
accepting no offers of surrender,
driven by the desire to destroy
the kingdom that had usurped his throne.
Rumors spread of a daring bud – sprouting -
a tune hummed by the imprisoned trees
adrift on the whipping winds of war
in defiance of the heartless king.
A call to arms sounded
by the most gentle, the most delicate.
The first acts of open rebellion,
The resounding crack of the ice jamb
the aching roar of the river’s rage
surging over its banks
awakening those still held captive.
Slowly the insurrection took root
buds gathered in hidden clusters,
trees quietly bloomed
muffling the screeching gales,
offering safety to bands of rebels.
Flocks of warblers met -
feathered archers - hurling their
darting arrows against the glare
of a cold king’s horror.
Sweet grasses spread across
the brown, despoiled fields -
a verdant gauntlet tossed in the face of dread.
Flowers crept from thawing dungeons
waving their colors,
swarms of banished pollinators
followed the call to duty.
The ebb and flow of battle -
clandestine sunrise maneuvers.
The resurgence of heart,
the growing hope of warmth.
As memory of the chilled repression
faded preparation was made
to receive the beauty and bounty
of a new and peaceful King.
John G. Lawless
For SKAT’s Winter’s End – Poetry Contest
at the break of dawn
a Hummingbird starts his rounds
Morning Glory sought
flaunting a red hue -
Mexican Sunflower tempts
looking hot, hot, hot
the Don Juan of birds
sucking nectar from Beardtongue. . .
drunk on French kisses
Goldenrod at noon. . .
Zephyr carries a sweet scent
beneath a gold sun
between Rose bushes
the Flower Kisser gets lost
in Blue Infinity
Sweet Pea and Bee Balm
entice with purple petals. . .
Bees join the orgy
Monarchs swarm in droves
when blue Hummingbird alights
on Butterfly Bush
waving in the dusk’s last breeze. . .
the proper lover
the Flower Kisser
leaves his harem sated as
white Moonflower glows
By Andrea Dietrich
*The capitalized names for flowers
represent some of the most popular
flowers visited by hummingbirds.
Such beauty abounds in bloom
Reaching to the sky
This Oriental Lily
Shows gorgeous colouration
The Stargazer lily was created in 1974 by Leslie Woodriff, a lily breeder in California. Woodriff called the new cross 'Stargazer', because the blooms faced towards the sky.
I grew up amongst every kind of plant and flower,
Beyond our gate was the garden of dear mother;
This Eden was colourful, tangled and so sensational,
So erratic, untamed and just totally unmanageable.
Mother knew the Latin names of each blooming posy,
The iris, lily, rose, aster, dahlia, marigold and peony;
I really loved the purple larkspur and pink gardenia,
Mother said she loved them all but adored camellia.
Brightly painted butterflies danced and glided happily,
And the nesting birds all sang their songs so loudly;
We had an old swing and we would sit and sip tea,
In the shade of the trees, just my mother and me.
O to turn back the clock of time, moving and clicking,
To be in my mother's garden again, a child dreaming.
July 2, 2014
Entered in the contest, Any poem under 15 lines, Poet Destroyer
tarnished skies tarry 'round windmill -
streams of tulips ripple
Elaelana- A Nymph In the Forest
Inspired by Charles Amable Lenoir's painting, "A Nymph In the Forest"
Elaelana, forest goddess, kneels beside the water lilies
Picking dainty, gem-like flowers to adorn her crown of hair;
Borrowed gems from Naphesai, her lovely sister of the daisies,
Flow'rs that thrive in shady woodlands, by the streamlet floating there.
Dressed for nymphean starlit dances in a dress of flowing creamrose;
Flawless slender arms upraised to rearrange the sable strands
Trailing from her Grecian features, pearly white against the gleamrose
Of silent lips, a little pressed, like rosebuds' tightknit ruby bands.
Ready now, so tall and stately, shadowlike drifts thro' the forest,
Joined at length by Mylesia, and her sister, Naphesai:
Elaelana, Mylesia, Naphesai, the sweetest, fairest
Threesome ever seen or heard that sang the nymphish lullabies.
Under the care of sun and rain
My leaves have unfurled
My buds have burst forth
My own will has been done
This was my beginning
Through the seasons
Spring brought me to life
Summer grew me to new heights
The fall must come sometime
The frost will encase my barbs
And I will return to meditation
Waiting patiently for my rebirth
For your light to peek through clouds
Your moon to hold me within night
When spring returns...
I will dance in the wind
A never ending flower
The roses,the daisies,the sunflowers,the irises,
So many wonderful and lovely flowers He has made,
The sun, the soil, the rain, they all come to their aid,
Sometimes, in my garden some lay under a nice shade
The yellows,the purples,the pinks,the reds and the blues,
In so many colors and shades for our pleasure He has made,
And He's created them all with you and me really in mind,
They're all here and there from Him all for us ready-made
Some are so strikingly beautiful and some are just plain-looking,
Some flowers have a wonderful perfume and intoxicating smell,
Some of them have no fragrance or any sweet scent to gift at all,
Some flowers like the rose, richly cast us under their lovely spell
To me flowers are like these magical and magnificent creatures,
And I can't never get enough of them and their beauty night or day.
Dorian Petersen Potter
BLOSSOMS and BUBBLES
From aggregate supple stellar petals' smile,
spring fragrance bubble spiral free in the air,
their porcelain blossoms dash perfection flair;
suitors bee, beguile the flower by buzzing style,
the blooms' fingers rush to blushes beyond compare.
Bard wind began to sing to serenade the buds in grins
rosy petals breathe a gentle sigh, one long mile...
Afar, some girls and boys see these Belles so rare--
they blow their dreams to root in land fertile.
They hope like blossoms their dreams curve in peak
though trials, struggles may round and round peep
for soon as seasons rouse may their journey begin
To the times their life drifts, avoiding not to weep
These blossoms and bubbles psalm, wisdom speak
J.A. Fraser and O.E. Guillermo
9:37 pm, March 03, 2015
Roses in vivid colours that smiled in glamour,
Red blood to be garlanded at valour,
White lilies bunching hearty and serene,
Catching lovers' fancy to the extreme,
Lavenders at the crest of mountains,
Challenging beauties of the terrains,
Merrigolds shining bright with sunrise,
Worshipping aroma to no surprise,
Dahlia, orange and yellow poppies dance,
Oleander with their pink flowers put us in stance,
Irises swayed taller on their stalks,
Bougainville like trumpets' melody outlast,
Bluebells borrowed colour from the sky,
Yellow dandelions woke up in golden bright light,
Tulips were as bright as showers,
Their beds flamed like throbbing rings of fire,
Forming shadows were rows of white flowers,
On azure coloured ground like trails of shooting stars,
Tiny wildflowers illuminated the grass,
Like jewels in the dust to nature's sarcast !
Written November 27th, 2014
For contest 'Encounter with flowers' by Anthony Slausen
How the flower
Bobs and weaves
With some bees
How the colour
Nods and sways
How the scent
Tranquil Smells Of Nature
The smell of nature,
velvet feel roses,
dazzling pink lilies,
flowering fruit trees,
tranquil the senses.
Blossoms with lots of
for bees, hummingbirds
Sweet smells of nature’s
tranquil the senses.
By: Eve Roper 2/22/2015
I do not know?
'Tis only a flower
Soft Petals of Gold
There's no special power
In this flower I hold
It came from the ground
There was no special seed
On this flower I found
That grew up from a weed
There are ivy green leaves
On it's long narrow stem
The pointy thorns weave
Round it like mountains
A family of ants
Made their home in the ground
Where the rain comes to dance
Round the flower I found
To you it's a flower
And nothing much else
To the ants it's a tower
Of beauty and wealth
So 'tis may be a seed
Which grew a long stem
Where the most beautiful weed
A flower, has hemmed
Around the base of the tree the banks of bluebells flower
Tall and straight but weak of stem, beautifying the forest
Cultivated by nature, leaves for compost, untouched by hand
The flowers are admired by all, gathered by children’s hand
To crush out the perfume from within the flower
Pressed into a book a reminder of the fairy tale forest
Forever in your memory the waving ocean of blue forest
A canvas brought to life by James D Preston hand*
Though missing the perfume of this beautiful small blue flower
Flowers of the Forest natures canvas in your Hand
a link to the painting.
Ornate is the ironwork that I peer through
as my fingers grasp the garden gate,
and I open my eyes to my Wonderland.
My bare feet step down the moonlit path,
where fireflies twinkle amongst the stars
that reflect upon the flowing crystal brook.
I capture them in a lantern, then set them free.
My lavender dress twirls weightlessly as I dance,
here I am free to feel joy and to dream.
Here beyond the gate of my enchanted garden,
when the golden sun sets low in the evening sky,
the daisies, gladiolas, and pansies never close their petals
and the sunflowers shine in the moonbeams.
While butterflies stay to perch on the blooming trellis,
the song of the hummingbird fills the warm night air
and I fall asleep in my flower bed of thorn-less roses.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
February 17th, 2014
For Nette Onclaud's contest - "My Secret Garden"
One moist patch, like dewy grass,
surrounded by a field of weeds,
emerges first and breathes at last,
through openings, the air it needs.
Cut off from, and cut off of;
counting on, and counting in;
from down below, to up above -
A smack on tender, crimson skin.
There is a pulse.
One spring bud, like seedling stems,
surrounded by a garden wall,
is standing out from all of them,
despite the fact, they're just as tall.
And though the bud has not yet grown,
the soil and the water see
more than just the seed they've sewn.
They see the flower it will be.
There is a pulse.
One tall stem, like climbing vines,
surrounded by its petals' plumes,
shares its elegant designs,
and stretches as it blooms.
And when the wind begins to call,
the flower spreads it's pollen 'round.
It falls in love, and loves in fall,
and falling love renews the ground.
There is a pulse.
A-Z Latin and Common names of plants.
A is for Acanthus Mollis the Latin name but this does teach us
B is for the common name we know it as bears Breaches.
C is for Campanula some are short and some of them tower
D is for the common name the pretty blue Dalmatian Bellflower
E is for Erigeron a daisy like flower not keen on the rain
F is for its common name, a strange sounding Fleabane.
G is for Galtonia its nodding head like a bowing nymph
H is for the common name the snowdrop or summer Hyacinth.
I is for Imperata Ruba not so hardy let me tell you alas
J is for the common name It’s known as Japanese Blood Grass.
K is for Kniphoria Triangularis a tall flower when unfurled
L is for the common name the pretty Light of the World.
M is for Morus nigia a stately tree with hearts shaped leaves
N is not for the common name but NEEDS care when pruning as it bleeds
Oenothera biennis is for an ephemeral beauty a perfume delicate on the nose
P is for the common name, and we know it as the Evening Primrose.
Q is for Quercus Ruba a fast growing plant that looks tremendous against a wall
R is for the red leaves that this plant displays when in the fall
S is for Salvia greggii you will of heard of this I’ll will wage
T is for its common name we know it as a Texas Sage.
U is for Ugni a fruiting tree with leathery leaves that is second to none
V is for variety in fact in this tree there is only one.
W is for Wisteria that loves to ramble up wires and twist
X is for Xeranthemum the flowers are straw like and crisp
Y is for the Yucca plant a flowering beauty that last for weeks
Z is for Zantedeschia a lily, a variety of colours for you to seek.
soft petals awake;
sacred gem of compassion
blossom into life
Though it seems like petals fell by the wind
But actually the flower pushed them out
One by one they would fall from the flower
But somehow the wind seemed to know no doubt
Soon as the petals came loose the wind blew
Carried them far in the air, so privileged
But the flower held firm to those last few
It wasn’t letting the wind gain leverage
But as the petals came loose, and wind blows
Petals would dance a special loving dance
Sometimes two would intertwine twice as strong
Flowing was second nature like a trance
Powers of the flower outweigh the wind
But the petals when free get a joy ride
No matter the petal, wind will get you
Free to flow down, nature you must abide
Entrant into Gail Angel Doyle's "Petals In The Wind" contest
march winds gust -
gorse clings on tightly
whilst daffodils sway
A flower breaks out afresh from its swollen,
green bud and then stretches outward into
the sun-drenched sky.
A thing of nature that's timeless
and perennial, it faithfully blooms and
adorns its surroundings like its predecessors.
Never alone, it is joined by its floral neighbors
of its own kind in fragrant numbers, suffusing
the atmosphere all around with a heavy, yet
sweet stench of lavender and honeysuckle.
The thick odor seduces and encourages the
flower-borne bees, hornets, and yellow-
jackets nearby into a steady rhythm and pulse
of continuous labor over the pollen-rich
blossoms and perfumed, colorfully-tinted
petals. From an adjacent pond the over-
abundant and unsubtle beauty of the
lily-of-the-valleys add their distinctiveness
to the already rich and lush floral landscape,
now teeming with the life and vigor of
spring in full bloom.
Smiling faces with bright graces
Towards the sun always their faces
Sunflowers like army soldiers
Turn respectfully when sun shines
Like thousand kids of sun on earth
Looking at the sun from the crowd
Greenish-brown like mud in centre
Surrounded by yellow petals
Like fire flame when burning bright
Like rays of sun their petals are
Their centre ground like fungi rocks
As fertile soil for plantation
Their combination bright and light
Like reflection of day and night.
Poetess S. Nadia Azam Shah Bukhari
All Rights Reserved
me and you love plant three rising ambient light one parasol folds * * Oxalis triangularis -the love plant