Best Bloomed Poems
A field afire
papery petals glow like ruby votive candles
a collection of cupped solar flames
vowed to shine despite the dew before dawn
evaporating any doubt the sun would rise
the mist would lift
consoling one in darkness
Rising up where wildflowers past have fallen
victim to soil fallow and shallow
your Spring growth resurrects my hope
as your resurgent blooms stretch to the heavens
I awaken thawed from the frost of loss
regenerated by dreams
of undying love sacrifice and joy
O poppy blood red
vast your bed a symbol of life and death
and imagination.. you inspire me with your irony
your roots belie a feathery foliage
anchored though airy
light and looking like you might take flight
but spirited blossoms stand an army of angels
earthbound and blushing
My breath stops when I gaze upon you — yet
when I walk among your thronging whorls
grazed by your grace
my chest rises and falls
my bloodstream set ablaze
by the grandeur of your inner light
my heart rejoices with the voices of breezes
aswirl with a swish through your scarlet banners of peace
We share a savor for new-day chardonnay skies
tender the warm tinge before summer’s singe
rhythmic air moves us with singsong sighs
a swaying dance of sepaled celebrants
with nary a fresh bud trod upon
crimson and sunrise spirit and flesh
raising palms and psalms in thanks and praise
festive in rebirth and remembrance
where tears fall not as rain but as
c o n f e t t i
as my heart carries the bouquet of your immortal beauty
like a bride on her May wedding day
Susan Ashley
March 11, 2022
*Dedicated to my father who gently passed on June 10, 2021.
You are loved and missed dearly, dad
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Spring Showers or Spring Flowers
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
*nary: not, or not any
(Image: Glow with pride: Express.co.uk)
Where lilacs bloomed, I spied a brown-haired child.
She, riveted by what was in her book,
did not see me! She wore a wistful look.
I guessed her to be somewhat shy and mild.
The girl at last looked up and showed surprise
to see me standing there to study her.
What happened after that is now a blur,
but I recall she had my same light eyes.
Where lilacs bloomed, I’d sat against that tree
while reading. Was I then inside a dream?
A woman startled me. Why does it seem
the woman who appeared that day was me?
Sept. 15, 2018
for Dear Heart's Enclosed Rhyme - September, 2018 Poetry Contest
Her gentle touch, words left unspoken, a mother's love is never broken. Inside her womb, a beating heart, began and bloomed, you got your start. Witness to you, as you drew a first breath, she is ever present, not severed by death. Her influence on your life, those things she taught, will always be there in memory and thought. Although her spirit had to depart, her love will always live on, with
in your heart.
under canopy
of star-lit sky waiting for
beloved arrive
verse flowered from a bud bloomed
with unconditional love
Carefree little hands
Found perfect pleasure in the sand
Yellow bucket stands
Written for Abe's Contest
Inspired by my daughter
half bloomed rose
an ant enters into
its fragrance
-kash poet (kashinath karmakar)
http://www.dailyhaiku.org/haiku/2014-december-19
Amidst the broken woods
Sprout the flowers hued;
Under the harlequin wonders
Euphoric fairies play and wander
Sans seeds these floras arise
~ The bloom of mushrooms
The streets where I grew up on was no place for the weak or disenfranchised to be
born. For just like the Venus fly trap it could eat you alive or crush your dreams. From the
time you awake until the sunrise in the east? The dessert fox was on the hunt, looking for an
easy meal to eat. This was no place for a single mother to raise a young boy into a man… if
she didn’t understand the laws of the dessert her boy, surely he would become the fox’s next
meal. No mercy or redemption for foolishness, weak or the meek, because the predators
here never seem to sleep. Blind bullets from the unknown took my best friend one hot
summer day as we played a game of hide and seek. All of his mothers dreams shattered and
derailed by a nameless bullet that took her only claim to a possible future president or the
next Martin Luther King. Don’t look so surprised about what I speak, it’s was the law of this
dessert from where we came from you see? Our tears were barely dry on our cheeks. and
the dirt that was placed on his coffin just last week was not even hard yet…as we laid his
estranged father into the ground the following week. Even my sister who once voted the high
school prom queen could escape the call of the foxes that beckon her in the night, as she
chases the white rock to easy her pain. Young sisters weaken bodies litter the desserts floor
as they fall victim to foxes never ending feeding frenzy on lost souls. Soulless young black
men stand on street corners both night and day in this place I call home… waging wars on
turfs and the colors that each other ware or just because of the color of their skin, but yet
they all hold no deeds in their hands for this land they claim. Firmly I do stand here today, a
black man who somehow managed to survive in that dessert to tell this tell of a flower
planted in a place where nothing very few flowers ever grow. People see me as I pass them
by on these urban streets, never knowing that I was a black rose that had bloomed…In a
dessert were only a few flowers ever reached full bloom.
That was the place of our first encounter, a grove that
painted our inner feelings, much more on these smiles
lit by sunshine; that was our favorite refuge when spring
gave us her wonderful gift, and dreaming we fell asleep.
Both moon and stars gleamed over us and thin clouds with their gentle
caress awoke us to pretty moonlight; and having forgotten how to get
back home, we decided to stay and spend more time in fervent kisses..
Fireflies seemed fairladies ready to grant wishes, and our only wish was
to add another romantic night, but stars jealous of them asked the calm
wind to blow, and it loudly blew dispersing them in the beeches above.
That sentimental adventure not planned, but merely fantasized
became real and remembering it now with extreme, nostalgic joy:
it binds us even more to the tender memory of the eternal spring;
a spring wild and young, and as trees bloomed, so did love in us.
Written on 6/7/2016
With his baggy overalls
And a worn, plaid cap,
The old farmer recalls
With a piglet in his lap
Seated on the porch swing
Of his aging farmhouse,
He saw not a thing ...
But the life of a louse
A barn roof bowed
Stressing sparse board,
Tractor's down the road
Needs what he can't afford
Fields bare and dry
Never mind the cornstalks,
Who were not knee-high
Down the row he walks
On a day, too hot to toil
When the man couldn't cope,
At the corner of the soil
There stood a ray of hope
And so it was ...
He felt less doomed,
Simply and because ...
One sunflower bloomed.
I found myself in the garden of roses;
How sweet the sight of roses,
Sweetness that no word can name
And each holds in its heart a torch of flame.
I saw a new bloomed rose,
A red rose
That thrills the soul,
And makes the heart roll.
The spell was over,
Reality came over,
I called her rose
And she smiled at me like a new bloomed rose.
Her personality like that of a red rose;
Her beauty like that of a rose;
Her radiant face illuminates my soul;
Her contagious smile makes my smile roll.
Come, all ye admirers;
Come with your desires;
Come and smell the rose;
Come and smell the seductive fragrance that'll make you doze.
One glowing dawn he came ,
With a rose in his hand.
Rain drops were still there,
Though not over him.
“God! He was melting away!
Why are all those clouds about, Mark?
Don’t you know I have always waited for you…
I waited for you long and long.”
“Dude! My voice left me alone!
Well…my eyes had voice!
It was all transparent with my eyes.”
At last he gazed at me and went away.
Oh! He left me without the rose.
“Well…you know…
Another day will come.
He will step in.
A new rose will bloom for me.”
A flower bloomed amongst the desert floor
It look like it had been bitten
Bitten by a wild wolf that had lost itself.
Its petals were torn
Its stem was bruised
Yet it held itself steadfast and strong
As the winds flew by, it held onto the floor
Beautifully it swayed with the patterns
Though its colors were almost fading
It was alone
A passerby came and saw the flower
Plucked it right off the ground
He put it into a jar and kept it sealed shut
Doused it in drips of waters from his water can
He carried it as he went about walking through the desert
It kept him safe at night as its colors almost faded with its thirst and air
It shined bright in the night as the passerby slept through the night
The flower could not sleep
The air was tight and there was barely any water
Yet it stood its most upright
Waiting for the sun the shine through
When the passerby awoke, the flower was weeping in its pain
The passerby poured water and unsealed the jar
To find it awakening from all the abandonment
The passerby saw that it needed clear air and and abundance of water
So he walked to the nearest oasis
He rooted the plant down near there
And left to trek on his own
The flower had slowly begin to bloom with life
It had shared its seeds with the desert around it
The oasis had begun to be filled with flowers
Now the passerby would visit every so often to come to the oasis
And see the flower he had saved
He knew which one it is amongst the flowers
It was the one that shown bright in the sunlight
He named it evergreen because of its ability to live through the desert heat
And retain its colors throughout its lifetime
Evergreen.
It was a place he called home.
The wanderer, the passerby.
Bloomed there are the starry flowers of life
On the twilight landscape of gold springtime,
The time horse runs far from the wood of Frost
Though the dream holds the sleep very warmly,
Crunchy leaves flow with the south gentle wind
Soggy meadows wrap the sunlight in ground
Steam hot under the green leaves, warming buds
Crunchy wildlife with the heave of spout trance
No stoppage in the beat lane of world blood
Why should sleep grasp the eyes in the trip lace?
Move fast if you want to lift yourself up
Lift up someone else for the happy goal
Bloomed time suits the endless cruise to renew
Where bloomed nature processes the new gyre
March 07, 2023
B--Forms And Words Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
You broke my heart, and I fell deep,
Into the cracks where shadows sleep.
The pain was sharp, the nights were long,
Yet in that dark, I found my song.
For in the ruins, a seed was sown,
A quiet strength I’d never known.
The pieces scattered on the floor
Became the roots I’d grown toward.
With every tear that stained my face,
I built the woman I now embrace.
The hurt you left was bitter, true,
But from that soil, my spirit grew.
I bloomed, not in spite, but because,
Of all the pain that tore and was.
For in the silence, I found my voice,
And in the loss, I made my choice.
To rise, to stand, to love again,
To heal the wound, to free the chain.
You broke my heart, and that was kind,
For now I see the strength you couldn’t find.