I have a lovely yard
where bright balsams in long pots neatly grow in row.
It's my pride
They grow in shade.
I enjoy the beautiful sight
May fade.
I love,
looking at it.
Wow
I have a lovely yard.
I enjoy the beautiful sight.
Wow!
Life can be challenging for a Douglas fir,
especially one who lives on a tree farm.
I’m surrounded by Grand firs and Balsams,
who, unlike me, can support heavy ornaments.
They sneer at me and chant “light weight!”
I see a little lady talking to the farm owner.
She comes straight~~Oh, she’s talking to me!
She wants a lovely, light-green, fragrant tree
for her huge collection of light-weight ornaments.
This is going to be a great Christmas for us.
In tastefully lined up pots in a row,
Multi colored balsams in clusters grow.
A visual treat to adoring eyes,
But never a haunt frequented by bees.
Balsams do not need much care, yet may fade,
If not allowed a little shade.
Flimsy they are of delicate stems,
With light green leaves of serrated hems.
Growing in my neatly laid up yard,
They invariably make me glad.
Gleaming in the first rays of summer sun,
By their simple beauty, my heart they have won.
Unlike the charming red, red rose
Hardly any poet, on them, odes compose
They have no scent, yet as a colorful throng,
In my courtyard, proudly they belong
When the flowers wither, pods appear
In time for self- dissemination, prepare
When fully ripe, the pods explode
And seeds fly as birdies from their nest to explore!
Thus, Nature’s ways are so amazing
Even in plants there's an inherent training
For seeds to leave the comfort of their pods
And find their own space fighting all odds!
How many times have I written of her glows!
Yet, the yearning to write more and more grows.
Forgotten feelings soon get a vent.
When I see the sprouts, in shyness, they are bent.
Ra.. ra.. ra.. ra.. la..la..la..la.. The scented breeze hums
Aromas of my favourite buds, blooms, and blossoms
Of tulips, hyacinths, lilacs, violas, and balsams
Creep and climb jasmines, sweet peas, and clematis.
Entwining them as though a long-lost kinship bliss
From far-off trees, jealously peep the envy-red plums.
Fruit flies, sand flies, blue bottle flies, and dragon flies
Commune, with multi-hued butterflies fluttering in the skies
Queen of the Night, Bird of Paradise, and Celandine Poppies
When secretly providing nectar to the worker bees
Where-from, to chill and thrill them, come these ice crumbs?
In neatly lined up pots in a row
Flaming red and purple balsams in clusters grow
A visual treat to adoring eyes
A haunt frequented by the bees
Do not need much care, but may fade
If not allowed a little shade
Flimsy they are of delicate stems
With light green leaves of serrated hems
Planted in my skilfully laid up yard
They invariably make me glad
Gleaming in the first rays of the sun
By their simple beauty, my heart they won
When the flowers wither, pods appear
In time, for self dissemination, they prepare
When fully ripe, the pods explode
And seeds fly as birdies from their nest to explore!
Thus Nature’s ways are so amazing
Even in plants is an inherent training,
For seeds to leave the comfort of their pods
And find their own space fighting all odds!
___________________________________
June.2.2022
~Placed First~
Purple Flower Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Nayda Ivette Negron Flores
"The summer night is still and sweet
With flowers on every tree
Peace comes to them on quiet feet"
Whose hearts, like sages, so free
Balsams just like purple-dark stars
Shining as though from the floor
Glowworm-bubbles as if from Mars
Knocking the night angels door
Mingled with the breeze so charming
Moody melancholic minds
Happiness-filled and hearts warming
Singing litanies of saints
Beggars, refugees, and dogs stray
Seem to sleep so peacefully
Somewhere in some land far away
Lullabies heard leisurely
01 June 2021
Choose Your Form 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.