Best Alyssum Poems
Finally, as afternoon sun splayed
through the picture window
onto wood floor and last pieces of furniture,
I packed that summer on the lake
into a box, mitering indigo corners
between squares of bubble wrap,
ripples appliqued with lilac jacaranda blooms
blown on the water.
Kids would leave for college and grandparents died,
but that year bees hovered in marigolds and violet alyssum.
The moon's marshmallow singed umber, impaled on a hanger
over golden flames. Dawn's opalescence would flicker
in pale aquamarine, receding shadows uncovering
beads of cerulean icing and pink lemonade shimmering
on shamrock and juniper.
Tiers of skinned knees and runny noses now framed
by cardboard and plastic were stacked like red velvet cake
atop a knotty pine picnic table as terns called in the distance,
then sealed with oak and concrete of our final day as we cannon-balled
off dock's end like it was the last thing we'd ever do.
My aorta beats in golden poppies,
pulsing down slopes to pool
in a bruise of purple sage.
Though my eyes gleam
with lemon marigolds
snow caps of porcelain lupine
melt on my lashes,
undulating in a quiet tempest
of periwinkle asters.
Beneath a bluebell sky
the sun colors my cheeks
with the blush of primroses
as monarchs lilt
like birds of paradise
among velvet morning glories
and a shy alyssum breeze
caresses my emerald cloak.
3/26/19
Marathon Qualifiers Contest
Mark Toney
Raven orchids drape the night,
fraying in the high petals
of swooning fronds.
I sit beneath a daffodil porch light,
a blood moon blushing tangerine
in a field of white alyssum
as I smell the nascent lilt
of a voodoo rose.
The giggling breeze
that flirted with my lashes
suddenly becomes a gust,
stinging my eyes.
Voodoo thorns rip my shirt
in a netherworld of absent flesh
as silhouettes of unbridled marigolds
woo their willing beds.
In my daffodil haze
I lift black narcissus
in an absent glass
to toast forbidden love,
the feral moon and I
beneath the breathless echo
of wild star light.
Posted 11/25/22
She floats into a room and voices hush,
the silence at effulgence in her bloom,
as crimson rises to her cheeks in blush
to humble scarlet gardens and their plume.
The gown in velvet bides her every curve,
smooth bight of rivers on to ocean's sway
that in such pastel presence do observe
how her translucence rivals light of day.
Though gentle white alyssum may surround
while saffron bloom the jonquils in their wake,
her coif in glinting chestnut is thus crowned
as alder trees beside an autumn lake.
A memory in oil is all she leaves,
but luster as in life she still achieves.
A faint perfume of lilac blooms has stirred the sleeping dawn
Bright sunlight weaves a golden loom with threads across the lawn
Crisp white-lipped Delphiniums tossed snowflakes to the hills, while
Daffodils and pink jonquils shake off the morning chill
Each violet of morning has left no stone deferred
Found growing near, a sprout appears from every seed interred!
Greeting me like candle flames, are poppies, gold and red
Hawthorne weaves a golden crown around the arbor's head!
I look long past the windowpane, and spring has bloomed anew,
just in time to see the sky revealed in shades of blue
knitting primroses in surprise! A sight long overdue!
Lost between the flagstones, alyssum, wild and free, has
mushroomed into puffs of white, competing with sweet peas!
New sprouts of cosmos spring alive in flowerbeds we've teased
On winter's lace a pansy face is smiling up at last!
Petunias in their pastel coats, are dressed like royalty
Queen of all in velvet robes, the iris crowns the grass!
Resplendent are the foxgloves…..and the dragons are a Snap!
Sweet Williams are such gentlemen, they make the morning grand
Tiger lilies brave the wind, stalking in the breeze
Under every shady tree, violas are reprieved, while
verdant shades of primrose lace wear green upon their sleeves
Wisteria's hysteria spreads levity with ease!
Xanadu is Statice "quo"……now, what more could it do?
Yarrow blooms tomorrow. I'll have to dry a few
Zinnias mean that spring has sprung, to share fresh air with you!
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"Spring Is In The Air" Contest Form ..... A to Z (Abecedarian)
3/4/18
The winter snow and freeze killed everything
I planted in the spring,
Rhododendrons, roses, Hawaii hibiscus
And the bougainvillea orange king.
Parsley, sage and thyme are gone,
Peony and pansies too,
The daisies died and I still sigh
For the loss of primrose blue.
No more azaleas or alyssum,
Passionflower or peppermint,
The coleus did not last nor sassafras,
And goodbye to rosemary’s scent.
And all the leaves on the lemon tree
Look more like a weeping willow,
Sagging sadly as if begging madly
To finally let her go.
But Spring is looming ‘round the bend
And new seeds await good earth,
To come alive in sun-filled skies
And signify life’s worth.
As all things come, and all must go
In a whisp of place and time,
Like flowers and plants in a cosmic dance,
The seasons of life are Sublime.
© Terrell Martin, 01/27/2025
Step by step, I steadily aged with time and wisdom.
I appreciatively obliged old bones to bow before kindred, king and kingdom.
Thank you mama for cleaning my snotty scum,
thank you for caring when childish tears like rivers run,
thank you for the sweet dukunu, the roasted breadfruit and the curried coconut rundung.
Thank you mama for reading Hans Anderson, and for repeating the giant’s fee fi foe fum;
thank you for the loud years of laughter and the many more to come.
Thank you Big Dee for your bald-faced lying tongue;
thank you for being the reason I fled the gruesome ghettos of Kingston.
Thank you creator for the many astounding things you’ve done:
thank you for the death of pride, this bona fide self martyrdom;
thank you Lord for my faithful consort, my daughters and my sons.
Through these streets my mind roams like fields of wild Sweet Alyssum;
these streets like colleges spiraled from the sun stirred asylum.
Dukunu is a cake made from banana and/or corn meal, coconut milk, raisins, cinnamon, nutmeg,
brown sugar, vanilla, and eggs. The dough is wrapped in steamed banana leaves and then
boiled.
Breadfruit is a large fruit that can be boiled or baked/roasted like a potato; it taste like bread
when baked/roasted.
Rundung is a sauce made from coconut and Jamaican herbs and spices.
Towards the middle of the April the wind changes and the showers fall,
We hide under the branches of an old fir tree sheltering from the rain,
All is well as the rain sweeps across the shallow mead's rippling waters,
There is a fluorescent greenness in the grass and buds begin to open.
Walking through villages old parks over commons, heaths and meadows,
Stretching legs running over commons after a long and very hard winter,
Larks sing in the sweetest air as blackbirds swoop from grand oak trees,
A child looks amazed at the change nature makes his eyes wide as saucers.
Standing on common land flocks of goslings pale green like new catkins,
Protected by squawking and chasing parents should anything come near,
Gorse in full bloom in the leafless woods while primroses bask in the rain,
Turf on these lands are thick with violets, cowslips grow in fine meadows.
The ox lip, half primrose half cowslip begins to mature into a thick bloom,
Looking across square fields enclosed by thousand year old hedgerows,
Old orchards grass is littered with white violets side by side with daisy's,
A Purple wood spurge hangs pale-green flowers among tufts of alyssum.
Oh God, expand my narrow, cluttered, room!
And clear the clutter out, so I may see!
And still my Seas, as You did, Galilee!
Life threatens to collapse in, with a Boom!
Like Aspen, that arise after a fire,
Or ground-cover that sprouts from ash and dust
Or sweet alyssum permeates the must
About the room, through window of desire,
So, pray I, browse the pages of my mind,
And grope for answers to luck, fate and hope
And grub for words, and wish I were A. Pope...
There is a solace, that I sometimes find
That tells me, Love is easier than this
O! HOW can Love be EASY, when it spurs?
O! How an outside dog be free from burrs?
And yet, I know it's true! How soft the kiss
My Love gave me, that made me blow the motes
Away, swing wide the sash, let in the day...
Away! With all the piles that naysay!
And sheaves of papers bearing scribbled notes!
...Some say Tolkien, himself, could not sort well,
He lost some of the Ring in managing...
He buried his notes, his housekeeper did fling
Some part of Frodo's past? (I'll never tell!)
________
UPDATED/FIXED/REWRITTEN IN A FIT OF DESPERATION 2/22/2019
Submitted for: Enclosed Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Through beads of hope I gaze
elegant strong and brave
with greens and diamond blues a mast
off her petals pearlescent dew drops lie
fragrantly guiding a watchful eye
Honeybee yellow stings of fate
absorbing every ray of baby's breath
harmoniously humming
in a wholesome milieu
shifting boundaries cast away drear
I walk up the promenade franked by the flowers
Seas of Marigolds with Alyssum waves
An ocean of daffodils and a bluebell wood too
Manicured lawns and beautiful trees
A cafe selling ice cream and afternoon teas
I walk through a hidden glade that leads to the zoo
rabbits and Guinea pigs and a parrot or two
Mums pushing prams and dads playing games
The lake as a bridge which is an honour to cross
named after soldiers who fought in a war
and now to the business at hand !
poaching the lake and feeding the swans .
comp enter 14/02/2016 , new to the site if the form wrong someone tell me please.
The park in question is Crewe given to the town by the railway company,in its hey day coach trips would be arranged from other towns that is many years ago , The bridge over the lake is called the Burma star bridge , and no fishing allowed so a game of cat and mouse with the park wardens . cheers
PATHS were bordered by boxwood hedges
softened with fern, surrounding GARDEN edges.
Light floral scents perfumed the morning air
and sweet alyssum lined walkways; pea graveled.
I strolled through the MAZE with a hint of despair
for I'd never been more confused and unraveled,
or in greater fear for my own welfare
than I did standing beside the boundary WALL
that towered to heights, confoundingly tall.
Endless TWISTING trails were quite unexpected.
I cringed with timid thoughts of becoming LOST.
Forlorn from many dead end routes I'd selected
and annoyed from each fork I'd already crossed,
escape seemed to be hopeless and I felt rejected...
like a wave crashing on a sea that's storm tossed.
Now, with sunlight TURNING its warm face away,
I dropped to my knees and fervently began to pray.
I was TRAPPED inside a PUZZLE, with no way out,
winding among SINUOUS beds that roses adorned.
My mind became clouded and plagued with doubt.
Then I heard a whisper, while my heart mourned,
"Do not lose faith, Daughter. You must remain devout.
Find the courage to try once again," it mildly scorned.
I stood as twilight started painting the Eastern sky
and plucked a white rose bud as my undaunted reply.
MAZE-10 Word Challenge
Sponsored by A Dear Heart
Posted on June 28, 2020
Rosey, had a rose of course
And Dan had Dandelions.
Sonny sought out Sunflowers
And Pete perfumed Petunias.
Maisey dreams of Daisys,
Cyrus clings to Iris.
Pops loves Poppys everywhere and
Viola vies for Violets.
Amy loves the Amaryllis
While Dolly dallies Dahlias.
Don’t miss Miss Chrysanthemum or
Aly’s awsome Alyssum.
James with Jasmine ran and
Percy picks the Jersey Lily.
Casey cares for Camelia and
Phyllis leaps through Lilies.
Angie’s all “Angelica” while
Bob boasts of Blossums.
Fiona’s Flora flies and
Abe craves more Azalea.
Beatrice bathes in Begonias and
Cassie crafts with Calia.
Goodness, 300 flowers or more!?
Oh distain, I’m out of names!
No more room for blooms
I’ll stop meddling, and “petal” on.
MARGUERITE’S CHARMS
Rainy day finally gave way to intermittent sun -
Walked out with camera before rain should return,
And fell in love, mesmerized, helpless, captivated.
Stopped at garden with waist-high iron railings, riveted,
And its flowers stunned me. Never knew you could get
So many blooms into a pocket-handkerchief spacelet.
Hanging baskets overpouring their petunias down
To meet roses climbing tenaciously up the trelliswork brown;
And tubs along the short path, each tub - afire and flaming
With joyful marigolds of yellow and orange - jostling
For space to get fired up and send their glow
Over the path’s six stepping stones, submerged below
Spreading alyssum and spotted lobelia, which crept
Cautiously over the bottom of the railings stepped.
But filling this mini-realm were the marguerites’ charms,
Reaching through their tiny prison’s bars into my arms,
Offering their open hands in supplication, white innocence,
Wide spread, full of generous, pure opulence :
Golden topaz seed-centres glossed with raindrop spot.
Oh I touched them as I might an uncertain cat, careful not
To spill their watery yolks. They ignored the iron bars with ease,
And begged me to pluck them, waving steadily in the breeze,
And invading the footpath outside the garden with their whirl,
Looking me in the face and smiling irresistibly like a pretty girl,
Welcoming, flirting, lovely, brushing my fingertips to invite,
Large,perfect, pristine, fragile, graceful, white.
Took some quick pictures as the rain came suddenly back there,
As it does in every head-over-heels love affaire.
Statues orate
snow white odes
Lilies loquate
lavender soliloquies
Alyssum applauds
with purple passion
in summer's soft breeze
Aquamarine asps
slither
on a swimming pool
beside bougainvillea
reaching
over ivory urns
to toss
fuchsia coins.
2nd Place
Mid June Premier Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
6/13/17