Spring menu of snowdrops, daffodils, dandelion, crocus and anemones
Each color blossoms the beauty swaying inside a breeze dancing thoughts
The image of spring changed colors roaring never thought my heart might burst
Within waves blowing kisses warmly touching the heart in endless bliss
The moment the sun draws the mist form the sea to the skies feels magical
Your footprints on deep sands fluttering wings of an angel beaming sunshine
Under the wing of an angel you will find safety, happiness and beauty
Held within a gasping breath your love true and complete beautiful
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen 17.03.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
My fingers' tip-toeing on your face
stopped at the softness of your lips,
moonlit night guided my lips
to your cherry blossom,
a gentle Spring breeze
melting like wax
© kashinath karmakar 2011
by:kashinath karmakar( 20th March 2011)
Placement:HM ;(March 2011)
Contest :Nonet me a Spring kiss
Sponsor:Michael J. Falotico
Placement: 2nd;(June 2011)
I think about you and my soul sings
Of all the endless springs
That await us, rich and promising
in their fertility,
I want to lie with you in the grass,
I want to lose myself in you there,
Hidden away from the glare,
I want to take you; outside in the sun and
Beneath the swaying trees,
Marvel as the rays gild you in gold,
Open and ready,
Surrounded by scents- sweet and musky,
Covered by your weight;
Warm and heavy,
I want to lie with you,
And watch the flowers bloom.
© Kavisha Saga and Ek Choti Kavita, 2014
That Spring Love in Your Eyes
Spring Love’s in your eyes for me now to see,
And it reaffirms thoughts of our special love;
And there is no other place I would rather be,
As we kiss deeply under the moon light above!
Darling with you in my arms this spring season,
My feelings are of such passion with true bliss;
We are “two” together by His Heavenly reason,
And for this our time together is never amiss!
With spring in bloom and God’s blessing above,
My heart’s yours forever my love please know;
For I know our emotions are of the deepest love,
And for this Darling to the Earth’s end I would go!
With that special spring love dear in your eyes,
Nothing on Earth compares with this Heavenly prize!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
May 10, 2015 (Shakespearean Sonnet)
Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell then came the ice, this went on for months.
The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.
They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves. Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday.
as they were called WEEDS ..
The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.
However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .
The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB
A sweet flower's funeral
displayed in the cold months
of snowy weather and bone chilling shivers.
A sweet flower burned away, dried up;
buried six feet under.
Oh, my sweet flower,
how you once bloomed with no remorse,
like a madman blooming with beauty
and a glorious halo over your head
shinned with such power and blinding glory.
Oh my sweet flower how you have gone now,
resting in peace in the land of paradise.
Oh, my heart it is weak when I see your face,
of once beautiful smiles and warm embraces.
I can hear your crying out to be free.
Snowing and bone chilling cold ripes at my soul
and feelings of sorrow rage through my blood,
boiling my hatred to the world, for losing your
sweet and ever glorious beauty.
What I would give away, if I could be with you
one last night, one last night together
to hold you in my arms, to smell your sweet perfume
that brings back sweet memories of you and I.
What I would do to be with you,
such romance travels through my heart in the highways
of my veins in my body, love is all throughout me,
and my heart breaks when pictures of you start to collect dust.
My love for you, my sweet flower,
is still ingering through the air,
as I travel and look upon a tombstone
which shows your beautiful name.
Come to me my dear flower,
when spring comes,
come to me my dear, sweet flower.
And bloom once again,
twice as large as last year,
and ten times more beautiful then last year.
Come to me in the first months of spring
in my dreams, so I could sit and talk with you.
I miss you already,
and my heart crys,
my eyes flood with tears of sorrow.
I miss our love we shared.
warm cuddling embraces
and beautiful displayed in a picture frame.
Now I hear the tapping of raindrops on my window pane.
That is all that keeps me company,
that and the rose you gave to me
and a picture of you and me.
Love is endless, even when blue eyed Death comes to visit
and play a game of chess with us,
we all play our game, my love.
I shall go tonight
in my sleepy slumber
and dream of you in the times of our height in our love for each other.
My lost love, you are gone, resting in paradise,
but never forgotten my sweet flower.
Written August 21, 2013
There's a girl in the garden
She's messing with your rose bed
Plucking weeds out from your head
And watering the seeds in your bed
But where will she wander
When the roses are dead
Will she come back for more
When they turn back to red
She can run all alone
Write this story in stone
On concrete slabs
Of skin and bone
Cleopatra's Baths in Gocek Bay, Turkey*
Sail away with me in the sunshine
Follow me as I slide into the welcoming foam
Hold my hand as we search the shallow pools
For the elixir that kept Cleopatra so fine
Come lay down in the beautiful pool
Feel the spring waters as I caress your skin
The bubbles tingling against your spine
Open up your heart, let me lay within
I smell the muskiness of lust
As I plant gentle kisses by the score
Your muscles tighten with my touch
Can feel your body asking for more
My fingers caress your forever hidden areas
Can feel the need for relief,
Your manhood throbs, my body gives you release
You sink into the shallow waters, replete.
The famous cleopatra pools of Gocek Bay
Not sure if they make you beautiful to see
Yet pleasure they surely give you as you lay
In the refreshing water here with me.
Penned 5 November 2014
* ancient bath house sitting in shallow waters, Legend says that these baths were built for Cleopatra to enjoy the hot springs laden with minerals that come to surface in the bath area, by her friends as a present when Cleopatra spent time in this area of the coast which is now southern Turkey. Close inspection of the bottom sands underwater today show spring waters still gurgling into this area. It is the minerals in this hot spring water that ancient lore says contributed to Cleopatra's beauty.
Spring, life flourishes
Like a gentle flower
It's time to be awakened
Your petals unfold
Inhale deeply, slowly
Eyes closed, wide open
The bouquet is sweet
The scent is feminine
It calls my name
Quietly you scream
Only I can hear this voice
It is for me, only for me
I am invited, embraced
I surrender, take me
I am yours
You are mine
Soy sauce drains
Into the white, clustered rice
spills . . .
Soy sauce taints
The whiteness of the grain
It slips out of my hands
No use...no point in crying out in rage
Though I was starving,
I'll just eat another thing and start on a new page
I'm hungry like a swine
I wish I can earn back my snack!
I'm as angry as a bull
I'm about ready to attack! Attack!
Soy sauce packages
Fall unto the dirty school ground
By bratty, conceited teens
They really need to eat their greens
Instead of junkfood and pizza
They should drink some water
Instead of drinking sugary drinks or
Sucking on popsicles obnoxiously
Why did the soy sauce spill? Seriously....
Play The Radio
Get Up And Dance All Night Long
Music Heals The Soul
And along came the lil’ Spring flowers,
in there amongst the springing grass
Distended visions before me,
as if I were not there
In the garden
the flowers did belong,
and I at the distance
where I did fit in
I felt the soft heat
“it’s Spring !”
I do not know?
My Wishes are Simple
My wishes are simple,
my desires few,
to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.
My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,
to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.
My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,
my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,
healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.
Effulgent sun proffers love
Above the undergrowth…of
Thorns and weeds
The moon unravels wonders
Written July 29, 2013
The wind blows the rainbows down
Turns your frown upside down
Then spins it back around
The sun hides the moon
Underneath its coat in bloom
The flowers came late this June
The rain in a teardrop
Falls like dew from a leaf
When she looks at me
See that look upon her face
Used to take her to the stars
Now she's headed back from Mars
Now that Venus loves her more
Wouldn't throw her to the floor
Letting rain pour down
on our warm bodies is feeling
alive and wanted.
Two souls indulging
in passion...tasting a
kiss softer than rain.
Written on 5/ 26/ 2013
Lying on the bank of the river, fingers dabble in the flow
Your head across my stomach, watching the waters go.
Little fluffy ducks abound, and new damsel flies unfurl
The early season brown trout leap, and make a splashing swirl.
Fingers running through your hair, my body satisfied and warm
You trace my lips with your finger, we're hidden from the brewing storm.
The storm we know will hit us, and what will we do then?
But cherish this stolen time together, in our sheltered glen.
Kisses that fall like the spring time rain
We know not when it will happen again?
Spring comes but once a year and we grasp it with both hands
We cherish and watch the buds explode; leaf covers the new born land.
Fingertips that may not touch, in the next seasons rising sun
Time to move on our way, another season begun…
How do we pretend ,that there is no spark of love?
It’s like trying to stop the clouds that form in the heavens above.
Good day my beloved one another spring will come
Perhaps we will share it, under another rising sun.
© 12/09/2102 ~GG~
It was a long walk, with time heeling at my shadow.
(and somewhere miles away the garage door closed, and the exhaust flowed,
and a small dog died in her limp arms)
I was friendly with God. Only with small trepidation did I drink from the sordid
chalice, minutes before, and decided that a walk, skip and a jump to nowhere is what I
needed the most. And so it was.
Block after block, stones in the pavement, the smell of creosote poles.
Delicate foil wrappers, industrial petals, She loves me not, she loves....
Sidetrack with backpack, it doesn't matter. I don't care.
I'll be there when I damn well find myself somewhere. Which is where
the trees grow bright, and the birds flit without flapping.
And the water forms misty and bejeweled, laying my mind out flat
like steam would fine linen. then I will sit and breath with an "e". You bet.
But first a small lap in a languid pool of solace, a tip toe through the forest afire with
colors borrowed from alien hands, a taste of spring time cum. Let me wallow.
God, friend, let me wallow in your mess of beauty, before I call it something.
Let me roll around like a goddamn dog. I want to itch and draw forth honey from my veins.
I want to suck sap bleeding from the tree, and dine on the lost sound of the whippoorwill.
God, let me die a small death of beauty, and be reborn in an orgasm of **** all get out!
No qualms. Buddy. I love your work. It looks like you ****ed yourself a good one.
And what came was all this edible goodness. Like Dali, I want to eat it. All.
Now, like I promised you, I'll give back. I'll play your hypnotic song
and sing to your soiled minions. I'll take heed in your loving whispers
and open up my heart for your midnight snack. I'll clean up your moonspill
and read to you that silly book of yours, the one about the golden rule
and those twelve dudes. (Sorry God, not my cup of tea).
Draw a bath for your daughters, and draw back the bow for your sons, and ready the bed for Venus.
Sit back and relax, ol buddy, I'll do the best that I can
then I'll grow tired
Oh. Now I can breathe. The song has left my lips for now.
I walked myself into a lovely stupor, and you showed me
the rainbow. And I raised your worms.
I played your song, God.
(I hope that somehow, she heard it over the din of engine and whimper of dog)
I played that timeless song, or you played me.
Either way, it's still the day
that the trees grew bright with sun
and the birds flew without flapping.
The night air is cool and collective,
Running through my hair and face.
Even when I’m with people, I feel alone
In this cold blooded space.
It’s like walking through a garden
Of all your favorite foods,
But none of which can substantiate
For that one so special mood…
that beautiful frame of mind.
I only go there with you,
And only you can make it unwind.
I discovered a passion unlike any other
And in my finding I opened a world,
A world I did not know existed.
I’m on cloud nine every time I think of you,
Just the thought of you brings joy to my heart.
This garden holds many beautiful things
Many delightful pleasures,
Many cold nights,
Ecstatic times and unsystematic times!
But they mean nothing to me,
While I’m alone…
Walk with me through this garden.
It's May! It's Spring! Sweet aromatic perfumes
Waft upon the breeze, conveying lusty thoughts
Of passion! Timid birds tweet beguiling croons!
It's May! It's Spring! Love seethes the air yet uncaught.
O' May! O' Spring! What stirrings rise deep within--
Intoxicating flowers breating out sin!
Aloft my thoughts are ellipting out of pace!
But, May! Dear, Spring! My heart beckons for a taste.
~by deborah burch
~Carol's "Memories of May" contest
*Note: May Day festivals were once a very lusty, sensual, and erotic cellebration! Origins date back to include times of pegan worship and practices...including the May Pole Dance...it was the celebration of Spring--love and lust... :)
Early I came alive this spring morning,
Shorter was last night, I realize
Gone were those hours of darkness
It’s time for the novice to arise
Looked on the nature with panoramic view
Spread was the greenery around,
In the palms of picturesque mist
The season of spring could be found
Rambled alone along the street,
Vacant was the boulevard
The silence of human kind,
Invoked in me a fanatical bard
Impaled by a ray of sun,
The universe was set to brighten
And in the universe of me,
Was set the soul to lighten
I do not know?
Oh! pretty nature
This is eye-catcher
On the wet, wet grass
There were few dew drops
Shelly and I
Reeling, in pleasure
Selling, our leisure
Rolling, in great measure
This is big pleasure
O, I love this season
This is the reason...
I do not know?
A path leads,
to where wild grass grows,
sashaying in the summer breeze.
Along the path,
lightness settles within,
feeling the grass,
swaying to the lilting bird-song,
in a dance of intimate abandon,
brushing the remnants of pain away.
Melodies float across fields of green,
delicately caressing my heart,
teasing emptiness to flee,
comforting the mind,
to silently be.
savouring the peace,
a momentary respite,
from the burdens of the now,
all is quiet,
a stillness cradling fractured emotions,
the grass in the fields sway,
nudging dimming light to take leave,
of the day
Droplets of rain
fall on Earth,
to come to Life
before my eyes!
Trees sway from left
to right with joy!
The ground smells
of fertility once more!
The air smells of rejuvenation
around me like before!
Rivers gain strength
and eagerly flow downwards
to become waterfalls!
Opening my mouth wide,
I taste blessings in the form
of pure droplets of water!
Once more Mother Earth
kisses the rain!
by Elaine Roy
May my heart be the vernal breeze that passes over your heart, to fill you with my love.
It's in the vernal breeze, were nothing can be seen but everything is felt with in our hearts.
Shall we place our feelings on the vernal breeze and let it take us were our love need to go.
Casting our passion on the breeze of wonder and surprize!
It's were loving hands feel to touch each others hearts, without needing to gain!
May we find our vernal breeze, that make us close our eyes to see, what only we can feel!
Spring gives sweet bursts of new life
rain and seed so very passionately embrace
soil awaits in the lover's hot bed
eternity moans for a soft virgin bride
Robert J. Lindley, 07-24-2014
Evening’s highland performance,
Essence of a gentle love,
Dreams of morning’s warmth
Graced upon your face,
A spring bare love,
Inspires sweet word’s whispered,
Produce’s an unbroken breeze.
the air of spring blossom blooming,
sending scents of nature calling.
blue skies of freedom,
ebbs of tides cascading,
fresh and yet so random.
hot sun radiating,
with a radiance so uncalled for.
spring beauty of nature glowing;
faint yet fo near and clear,
so calm and so dear,
bringing peace of beauty,
important to so many.
humble beginnings of spring passion blooming;
rarity of a blossom blooming,
brings a certain genuine passion as it lasts.
the center of nature's beauty and it's importance,
times of spring and new refreshing changes, mood, and attitudes.
I shall compare you to a day in spring
to complement the summer Shakespeare wrote.
Your voice is fairer than the birds that sing
of love, in every way on every note.
The sweetened fabric 'round a flower's face
is far less lovely than your silken hair:
the former lacks in sheen and goes to waste
when comes the callous winter's annual air.
The season's song, its scent, its look and feel
are still quite beautiful, make no mistake,
but this is true because your own appeal
is made the greater by these very traits.
The spring may flaunt a lovely sky and floor,
but springtime makes you gorgeous all the more.
A 1952 vintage Connecticut dormered Cape Cod
painted stark bleached white
with slick jet-black shutters,
hyperbolizing a deep racial minority
well, issue really,
in my mind of similar vintage
and incarnational permaculture,
conceived in bold ripe August,
born in bullish economy of May.
So, I painted her.
Wrapped my arms
and rolled around her
in turquoise sea,
and sky blue,
with rain-cloud grey trim,
so she might be less afraid
and so might I.
Born into late millennial Yang,
reconnecting and reweaving with each other
during trans-millennial now,
how will we transform our economic options
to full diversity and springtime
polycultures of May?
We grow transformed,
reframed to coincidentally cooperate our octaves of color
feeling and mind
Yin and Yang,
convexly displaying economic ecological
principles of mindfulness as coincidental noticing,
advent of winter's grateful hibernation,
enthymematically aptic communication
inducing measured calculations back through RNA-regenerating
origin of living systems.
Deductive Left-brained dominance need not apply for comprehension,
balanced by summer's yangish nutritional bullish market,
hope of fruitful outcomed spring,
then summer's faithful following
of full polyculturing
permacultured information root system
formating strings and tendrils
cooperatively absorbing nutrient Spring's and sprouts consumption,
to produce within life-sustainably proportional karmic response
to yang/yin coincidental rich deep ecologically efficient,
and inclusively effective for full speciating diversity,
nutrient cooperative economics,
that might actually be logical,
because they are ecological.
These, harvested permaculturally optimized
positive analogical and ecological,
digital and atomic,
temporal and spatial,
linear dynamic Open Set Universe String
Polynomial Closed Set Prime Relationship
neural frequency and flow,
balanced bicameral logos-logic:
Left-brained information language
thermodynamically balanced with 3 spatial dimensions
covering 1 equivalent temporal-linear dimension
Commons Economic Balance Assumption
(0) Core Vector [B. Fuller and Euler] =
(+) e-function =
+1 magnetic balanced QBit quark-function
So, all that going on,
more or less,
in our dominant Left hemisphere newer speciated DNA-brain,
AND Right-brained non-linguistic and non-polynomial
intuitive intelligence codes memory dipolar and
(harmoniously proportional flow/frequency neural pattern recognition)
(0) Core Vortex =
(-)(-) [not-polynomial dipolar stricture--implicate order] (D. Bohm)
putting all that mess together,
more or less confluently and permaculturally,
(-)(-)Yin (-1 QBit) Nonpolynomial
intuitive temporal-linear-neural balanced
Optimized Information Permacultured String.
now that my home and I are parting ways,
I'm finally noticing that even my friends and family
don't particularly care for our change of color
It's still kind of a hard sell,
this more colorful permaculture
Must be time for adventurous reincarnating revolutions
or we will remain merely ahead of our own non-polynomial ending time.
Time opens space's liturgical rite of passage.
Space coincidentally reincarnates time's
4 equivalent ecological dimensioned order.
4-dimensional equivalent dipolar time.
There is no such thing as non-polynomial time or space
other than negative binomial time
(implicate ordered Right-brain reverse synchronic-aptic coded).
+P (+1QBit) = (-)(-)P =
+/(-)0 Core binary e-function
Prime Core Electromagnetic Balancing Binary-Binomial QBit.
Spring springs polyculture economics
composting through dark and winterish minds and forms and functions,
still looking for greatest inclusive nutrient yield
without suffering dissonantly wilting loss,
cooperatively flying our regenerative kites
co-id/eco-entity tied with time's river of flowing
informating memory strings.
you were wondering when
I would finally conclude
with the sex part.