Best Bee Balm Poems
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
Evening Primrose
waving in the dusk’s last breeze. . .
the proper lover
the Flower Kisser
leaves his harem sated as
white Moonflower glows
*The capitalized names for flowers
represent some of the most popular
flowers visited by hummingbirds.
She That Rivaled The Glowing Moon
Thy *hyacinth* hair upon white shoulders laid bare
thy face, mirror of love in heavenly skies.
The miracle of thy body, so sweet and fair
its soft innocence, destroyer of worldly lies.
Walking behind thee, in steps where an angel trod
among meadows, flowering in moonbeams there cast.
Must be a heaven for thou art proof of a God
that giveth to mankind a beauty that shall last.
Thy touch, ecstasies that rival paradise
ravishing smile, cool breeze blowing on a hot beach.
In all the universe only thee will suffice
to heal my aching soul and my heart, true love teach.
Thou art my *Irene*, that I drink of thy calm!
Blessed am I, to be soothed by thy kiss balm.
R.J. Lindley
June 26th, 1989
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12
Total # Syllables: 168
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 122
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1. "hyacinth"- Luxuriant and curling
2. "Irene"- According the Greek myth, the goddess of peace
3. ****" balm"****
Home British & World English balm
Definition of balm in English:
balm
noun
1 A fragrant cream or liquid used to heal or soothe the skin:
‘a skin balm for use after shaving’
**** 1.1 Something that has a soothing or restorative effect:****
‘the murmur of the water can provide balm for troubled spirits’
2A tree which yields a fragrant resinous substance, especially one used in medicine.
? balm of Gilead
2.1[mass noun] The resinous substance yielded by a balm.
3[mass noun] A bushy herb of the mint family, with leaves smelling and tasting of lemon.
3.1 Used in names of other aromatic herbs of the mint family, e.g. bee balm.
Origin
Middle English (in the sense ‘preparation for embalming, fragrant resinous substance’): from Old French basme, from Latin balsamum (see balsam).
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Note- I had her but my mad wild streak( I was 18 years old) drove her away..
She saw something in me that back then (1973), that could not stay..
Only many decades later, could it reemerge to remain and slay my demons....
Rebirth glides -
a bee balm ballerina
with dainty airs
sails soft upon enchanted wisps
of Spirit’s blown kiss..
wandering a nectar network
weaving amid shaggy blooms gilt-tilled..
a dancer in gold dust
her slipper feet
of light and peace
bring blessings of fruition
to wild-garden's frilly lavender fillies
"Unfold the days of spring sunshine
and the awe of black and gold velvet wings of happiness." Quote by poet
The amber broad horizon runs over the countryside
While nascent painted pattern clouds open up wide.
A little girl beams in her pink dress, trimmed in white lace,
Black patent shoes, and her auburn hair across her face.
Runs across the countryside of wild red bee balm
As the abundant blooms unfold in silence of the calm.
Black and gold velvet butterflies flit in aromatic spring
Air enjoying the warmth of the sunlight it does bring.
4/15/2023
When first freed from mother's skirt, still arrayed in white,
dew kissed, peach sweet, blush cored, I dove into
love, Persephone pierced; where ox-eyed daisies grew
within a field abreast a Roman ... in daylight.
Dry merlot overcast the blooded spot on site
where passion flowered upon the box stitched blue
quilt Grandmother with constancy had imbued.
Yet, youth was not enough to make the man contrite.
An omen ran through red bee balm, a hound of black
long-limbed, loosed to pursue the brazen few who dared
to lay unabashed in sunlight, the farmer stared back
from the porch; he saw them run, saw yarrow in her hair.
Ill fated yes, but first love is honeyed and that is a fact;
nothing's sweeter than a maid undressed in open air.
Tomorrow brings the blue bird's song
Hand painted clouds at sunrise
Hummingbirds humming over red bee balm
Bumblebees buzzing with butterflies
Hand painted clouds at sunrise
That very first smile of the day
Bumblebees buzzing with butterflies
Laughing at work and at play
That very first smile of the day
My lungs filled with fresh morning air
Laughing at work and at play
A moment for silent prayer
My lungs filled with fresh morning air
Hummingbirds humming over red bee balm
A moment for silent prayer
Tomorrow brings the blue bird's song
June 12 2017
by Daniel Turner
How can something be so good?
Yet forgotten!
Fragrances that call,
Attention to her beauty
Growing in the wild.
As we pass her by,
Without a care,
Or a second glance,
Not knowing the benefits,
She brings,
Edible flower and leaves,
Soothing in hot water,
Drinking or inhaling,
Alternative healing,
How wonderful a plant,
Medicine for life,
Magnificence growing,
I give her praise,
And adoration,
She infuses her perfume
Garnishing the earth
With potpourri,
Surely I thought!
God must be a woman,
So much creational flare,
Yes! So clever,
Six days she planted
The seventh! Drank its tea.
Wendy Jae
The rooster led his harem forth
into the garden for a party
There they would dine from mother earth
Aphids on roses, worms they ate harty
Queen Ann's lace was laced with caterpillars
And rolly pollies ate Day Lilies' leaves
Biddies fed 'pon tiny grasshoppers
for summer was there to please
The Bee Balm and Fever Few had not been
touched by summer's butterfles; Rebecca
had yet to open her blooms; Daisies soon to begin.
Spring blossoms now nearly gone, summer the garden wrecker
The rooster, his hens and biddies loved the party
As among the flowers they pranced and ate smartly
Inspired by Cyndi MacMillan's contest not an entry...
Poor Ruby Hummer looks confused,
searching for her favorite feeder.
It was right there when it last was used,
in September, in the cedar.
Above the Bee-balm and Lobelia,
in my pollinator garden,
so sorry, Ruby, yes I feel ya,
and I truly beg your pardon.
I’m late this May, you came so soon
from your Yucatan vacation.
2000 miles from your lagoon,
a miraculous migration.
500 miles without a stop
o’er the Gulf, you must be famished.
A marvel that you didn’t drop,
and now your feeder’s vanished!
‘twas just last week we had some snow,
a freakish mid-Spring specter.
Please be patient, please don’t go,
I’ll brew you up some nectar.
Meanwhile, check the Columbines
while I go and fetch the feeder.
And don’t forget your Trumpet Vines
that grow behind the cedar.
Come grace my garden, cheer my heart,
you’re my favorite garden guest.
It’s time to fatten up and start
to build the family nest.
Nest materials, soft and pliable,
give shelter from the storms.
Next Spring I will be more reliable,
I’ll institute reforms.
June 2020
Garden Contest sponsored by Constance La France
There’s a place in the Blue Ridge.
Where the mountain faces Tennessee.
It escapes detection and is accessible
only through childish reverie.
By all children who in their thoughts
and dreams of feelings not forgot.
Their young minds clouded in mystery
of fairy tale and chivalry of Lancelot.
This Alpine glen, gently sloping meadow,
with Fraser fir trees and flowing well,
Periwinkle, sage and wild strawberry,
Sporting Bee Balm and Oconee Bell.
Its praises sung by lonely whippoorwill,
a place for animals to share refuge.
Where the small rule in importance
and the large never think of deluge.
The log cabin long since turned to dust
A tiny pile of stone, not much
to indicate the love, the life
haunting this place with gentle touch.
The young girl in eighteen sixty two
left alone by need of country.
Then the daughter raised alone
who taught the animals to be friendly,
A legacy of love and life’s spirit spent
in this lovely place of quiet retreat.
Befriending woodchuck and white tailed deer
and others she would chance to meet.
The animals learned that survival of the fittest
did not belong in this place of loving favor.
That it was much more beneficial
to learn to live lovingly together.
© May 04 2010 For Mac's "Your Best Poem" contest
My mom was quite an all flower expert.
oh yes, she knew all those long Latin names;
I sighed- so to English she did revert.
Grow we whispered- to all those flower dames!
High, high they would all grow in the rich dirt,
blow your seeds- with swirling and whirling games!
Such silly names like bee balm- bugle weed.
touch the soft candy tuft and hearts that bleed !
___________________________
June 6, 2019
Poetry/Ottava Rima/Modified/Watching the Flowers Grow
Copyright Protected, ID 1150-353-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Rima Ottava
sponsor, Charles Messina
Second Place
blooms
bouncy
baby’s breath
busy bee balm
ritzy rose, glitzy gloxinia
zany zinnia, dear ditzy daisy
swanky saffron
flouncy phlox
bonnie
buds
In
day's
of yore,
Melissa
officinalis-
inhibited the hive from swarming
Note Lemon balm (L4/5) also known as bee balm was rubbed inside the hive to
keep the bees in the same hive and thus the winter stock of honey was safe for another
season.
Clouds spiral down and curl around to touch me
—not those western drizzle shrouds
baring a soul of misery mizzle
...though I adore a good wallow in sorrow —no
these clouds come from yonder bluebird wilds
white cirrus wispy and whispery dance around me
I steal one to wear across my shoulders
like a platinum’s blonde’s faux stole
they come to me like papier-mâché angels —no no
that’s too cliché… and passé for I’m far beyond
the Godly touch of angels… hmm.. they come to me
like a lover —no too easy …like a heartbreak-er lover!
yah I’ll go with that and get a taboo tattoo of his name
anyway the clouds they find me where I stand
dissatisfied with being satisfied
the result of my cool cat face seduction
I wear a crimson bee balm boutonniere
display it on my plunging V lapel but
it attracts wasps instead of honey bees; I find
danger brings a secret pleasure to my displeasure
my leopard print pants (red sky colored)
stirs sir knight with his bridled gaze and walking stick
he watches my next move on the chessboard
tries to guess my breezy strategy
my hands behind my head legs crossed
maybe it’s a white crested ocean I'm floating on
—or wrestling with— either way
I’m here to play and paint a displeased scene
watercolors? they’re just transparent hues
applied to my white background
depending on the mood of my mood ring —but
when acrylics bleed it’s harder to see the scene
colors escape their space creating a slurry
of what is where where is when when is why
and why don’t know why ..what?! but I know how
blurry lines take on a life of their own
and shapes a new fate from ‘no gesso’ mistakes
I could switch my style to snarly tiger stripes today
and gladly take that horse-headed knight down
that wooden old guard has new orders
he’s suspicious of me scrutinizes me
but only half as much as I’m used to
his right hand on his monocle
—the other eye blind
just beyond the reach of his walking stick
I free my torso of its purple grapevine corset
uncinching my fake waisted form —I muse
if my time as a wastrel was wasted or invested
oh …the monocle is telescoping me again
I shimmy lose my butterfly wings
slap him as I flap them and fly away
it’s hard to know if I’m still beautiful
or if I’m just broken
—either way I embrace the rainy side of the rainbow
happily discontent
kiss of a tulip
lavender and bee balm too
garden winked her song