Best Blooms Poems
The single white rose captured the old gardener's attention,
He lovingly cared for it, like it was his own grand-daughter,
The roses were just like family and friends in his eyes,
He gave them bright sunshine, and plenty of fresh water.
He had always planted roses in reds, yellows, and pinks,
Yet, it was the one white rose that he favored most,
The old gardener admired it's innocence and elegance,
A quality that the other roses just could not boast.
This precious rose was pure white, like new fallen snow,
Which only a cold, late November day could bring,
It's delicate petals were soft to the finger's touch,
Similar to that of a feather, in an angel's wing.
The old gardener was perplexed and astonished,
Only this rose bloomed through spring, summer, and fall,
Each of the other roses had withered months ago,
The frost and cold weather did not affect it at all.
With a smile, the old gardener took one last look,
Unknowingly, death would soon come without warning,
After he had settled down for a nap in his chair,
He drew his last breath, later on that morning.
His funeral was held on the very next day,
Loving words were spoken, as he was laid to rest,
His grand-daughter approached, with tears in her eyes,
As she placed the single white rose upon his chest.
The cemetery was a quiet and peaceful place,
Where family and friends gathered to remember,
A gentle snow began to fall upon the casket lid,
Brightening the gloom on this final day of November.
The old gardener's soul departed from this earth,
Lead away by a choir of angels, on delicate wings,
Then on through the pearly gates of heaven's garden,
Where the white rose still blooms, in eternal springs.
November 25th, 2013
While traveling ‘cross such harsh terrain
left parched and barren from the sun
and weeks without a cooling rain,
I saw a sight that left a stun
beside the road on this long run.
I stopped to have a closer look;
perhaps my vision had deceived
with image that my mind mistook
and merely something I perceived,
but I would never have believed.
Yet there a single flower bloomed
upon the dry and sun parched soil.
Impossible I had assumed
with harsh conditions to embroil;
to stay alive, how she must toil.
Her face shown fair in sun’s dry heat
magenta petals shining bright
appearing happy and upbeat
without a worry to incite,
and unaware of her dire plight.
I ponder how one could exist
in harsh conditions such that be
and thrive with little to assist,
yet ne’er for help to send a plea;
she seems to live her life carefree.
Perhaps we all should take a clue
from gentle flower’s look on life
ignoring hell we’re going through
with all its worry and its strife,
and all the bad with which it’s rife,
and focus on our gifts in life.
April 7, 2021
Poem of the Week - April 11, 2021
Coffee bean scent still fills the air
with each new sunrise in our log cabin
My arms around me embrace the winds of winters gone.
Every sky-night the glass-pane glows in silent mist
Lunar limbs stream through bedroom blinds
reflecting shadows on empty sheets.
Star clusters shine'bove velvet shores
sand-wish away from my bare toes
Another day, another month, another year
and a thousand thought,
Can't preserve time or make a clone.
First magnolia blooms on a stripped branch
Buzzing bees extract nectar from a moist corolla
Pastel wings flutter on melting icicles
Sunbirds return with a sweet song,
But what is a song without the symphony
What is music with no slow dance.
His hand-pressed petal still marks the chapter
between stained pages
The dusty shelves recall my mind
recall my heart, recall my soul.
For the last time before tomorrow
these eyes would linger ,
Before leaves curl , before buds wither
Before moons move on, and I let go.
Revised repost.
Beloved Blooms
I awoke to a garden of flowers,
A bouquet of words that blooms from within.
Expressions conceived, grown by spring showers,
A dream or a quest that yearns to begin.
As warm sunlight opens petals, I find
Words from a sonnet lead to desire.
Enchanted romance enlightens the mind
Growing a garden to bloom and inspire.
Colors of brilliance, and in every hue
Guide my muse in your scented direction.
Don't guild the Lily, as I adore YOU.
Your pleasant bloom is my sweet perfection.
Each poet blooms with their own unique flair
Within their bouquet of blossoms they bare.
5-23-21
~Poem of the Day May 25, 2021~ Thank you Team Poetry Soup.
The Most Beautiful Flowers You've Seen Blossoming
This Spring So Far Poetry Contest ~3rd place~
Sponsor: M.L. Kiser
ALL YOURS (Jun 12) Poetry Contest~1st Place~
Sponsor Brian Strand
My thanks to the websites for the images:
http://i1.wp.com/www.calinignat.ro/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/a-heart-made-of-words.jpg?w=480
https://images.tulipworld.com/mmTW/Images/450X450/28126.jpg
Hope blooms
in April when
amethyst flowerets
appear like magic on my trees.
I hear chirping and catch a glimpse of birds
gathering small sticks for new nests.
Delight perfumes the night.
I thank God when
hope blooms!
January 18, 2023
M.L. Kiser's Pen A Rictameter, Hopes Of Springs Return Poetry Contest
Now entered in Brian Strand's Your Decision Poetry Contest
She is the flower in the garden of dreams
Awaiting her butterfly on the summer breeze
A sip of nectar where her beauty beams
Kissing her petals with seductive tease
Awaiting her butterfly on the summer breeze
Fluttering to the rhythm of her heartbeat
Kissing her petals with seductive tease
Her fragrance alluring, ever so sweet
Fluttering to the rhythm of her heartbeat
A monarch in flight to her garden of blooms
Her fragrance alluring, ever so sweet
Basking in sunshine as her passion looms
A monarch in flight to her garden of blooms
A sip of nectar where her beauty beams
Basking in sunshine as her passion looms
She is the flower in the garden of dreams
11-23-2020
Pen a Pantoum Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: D.W. Rodgers
In my past existence,
circumstance sowed my roots
deep into woods of foreign soil,
slowly I ascended spreading my wings,
yearning to be evergreen,
blossoming in summer with glossy verdant leaves -
I became the soul of the earth.
Yet, I never belonged,
among a promenade of silver skinned pines,
who mocked my rough brown bark.
I was born to flourish in a tropical oasis,
so autumn winds stole my diverse petals.
I stood vulnerable with
bare branches shivering in silence.
Snow fell gently,
as my crumbling core began to rot.
Fate slashed at my anchor like a mad man with an axe,
until I collapsed with my sap bleeding dry.
I was left to slumber in melancholic meadows,
abandoned in murky misty moors.
In death,
I pondered, will anyone miss me in times of;
silence, anger, tears, smiles, laughter and regret?
Although they cannot hear nor see me,
will they still feel me in their hearts?
When they gaze at the night skies.
Will they find me among the stars?
Lost in thought,
yearning stardust and moonlight melodies,
my soul connected with an ethereal spirit,
an aromatic aura I had never felt -
I was finally found.
Her soft lotus touch roused a fluorescent glow.
Our hearts illuminated resembling the golden orb.
As my beloved portrays me in her poetry,
we wander in fields of forever,
commemorating instead of cremating memories.
Her devotion plants a special seed in her bronze orchard,
creating an immortal poetic garden -
where we bloom as flowers in all four seasons.
Gathering a plethora,
of abandoned blossoms high and low,
a covered basket and pockets full.
Light footsteps through shady trees
releasing dainty blooms for me,
nature’s soulful aliment like a
rainbow placed strategically
for a little girl's innocent eyes.
Blooms falling into my hands
on a wooded path for one,
then scattering to the wind,
a fanciful dance, free of
pending frailty; prancing
petals take flight
before their glory fades...
How can I preserve
God’s majestic beauty,
petals adorning a late
spring breeze? The newly
green earth and trees -
watch me, watch them.
I am but one girl
gathering blooms
to press between
pages of time or
seep into an intoxicating
potpourri. I could take
a snapshot of these
sacred scatterings but
never could a photo
fill my senses -
the sweet scents,
sounds and touch
of blooms on
a wooded path
and breezes all
around my face,
the sight of God’s
majestic beauty
in a magical place.
If I had one wish it would be, to share
these magical moments with you.
new lovers - glowing -
explore each other's bodies
incandescence blooms
the moon peeks down through branches
of the oak two lie beneath
In the sunny September morning
He went to find the most beautiful roses
For the girl, he loved the most.
He didn't realize that it was fall
Getting beautiful flowers wasn't possible at all
Still, he tried very hard
And then with disappointment, he plucked
A bunch of half dried roses and gasped
He went to her house with couple of thoughts.
Hesitatingly, he knocked the door
She opened and found him kneeled down on floor
With the bunch of pale and dried roses.
He was shocked he thought she would be angry
But she was so happy and in excitement
Her smile was the perfect thing he saw
He realised that her smile was no less than a flower that glooms
He should never search beauty in the whole world,
When he already has the FLOWER THAT ALWAYS BLOOMS
Coffee bean scent still fills the air
with each new sunrise in our log cabin
My arms around me,embrace the winds of winter gone
Every sky-night windowpanes glow in silent mist
Lunar limbs stream through bedroom blinds
reflecting shadows on empty sheets
Star clusters shine above velvet shores
Sand-wish away from my bare toes
Another month,another year,another thought
I can't freeze time or make a clone
First magnolia blooms on a bare branch
Buzzing bees extract nectar from moist corollas
Coloured wings flutter on melting icicles
Sun birds return in a sweet song
But what is a song without a symphony
What is music with no slow dance?
His hand-pressed petal
still marks the chapter between stained pages
The dusty shelves recall my mind
recall my heart,recall my soul
For the last time these eyes would linger
before leaves curl,before buds wither
before moons move on,and I let go.
Ruby, canary,
white, and purple heads waking
tulips in my yard.
Yawn and stretch petals
to salute the sun, smiling
full blossomed beauties.
Written: 3-2-19
For: "Spring Haiku Poetry Contest"
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
She has closed her eyes to the rain
But flowers bloom out of her pain
Her beauty framed in black and white
Needs no color to delight
Through the mist she softly weeps
And teardrop dreams are all she keeps
Reflections of God
I feel God’s presence when walking o'er hills
In nodding heads of golden daffodils
In fields of green and crystal waterfalls
In trees standing proud, statuesque and tall.
I hear God in vibrant sounds of the woods
In murmurs of the breeze and babbling brooks
I find Him in the glow of risen sun
Fresh days and fresh pages to write upon.
I sense God's love flow through charmed symphonies
In enchantment of choral melodies
I seek Him in the dewy morning mist
In the sky when it has been rainbow kissed.
God’s revealed in roosters crowing refrain
In rain dancing upon the window pane
I rejoice in nightfalls scenic display
Stunning sunsets taking one's breathe away.
There's not a fragrant rose in June that blooms
Nor stars twinkling brightly around the moon
No clouds adorning the canvas of sky
That doesn't send reflections of God on high.
In the morning I will sing of your love...
* * *
19th October 2020
Written: January 23, 2024
__________________________________________
Their melodious humming drifts
through the fragrant night air
carrying a sense of tranquility
In this enchanting universe
where dreams come true
A delicate whisper
of silver breeze captivated softly.
Trees are lavishly graced
with azure iridescence
visualize an idyllic scene
that is truly magical
in this hypnotic realm
trees sway softly
as lilts chortle jubilantly
dryads are ecstatic
lullabies spark with
flamboyant emerald
fostering faith
in forfeited souls
lack within intricate
maze of their dwelling
scarlet nests tucked
high on twigs
An oasis of passion
where silence draws.
Lullabies load breeze
with a warm glow of opals
orienting dropped souls
In a mystery of
their abode once again
trees adorned with snugly
hidden crimson nests
a setting of love
where harmony sway
arbors wrapped
with stunning splendor
a vibrant tapestry
of dazzling majesty
their heaving hues herald
heaven with hypnotic hood
In this magical mannerism
musings mantling
In an ephemeral haven
of natural magnificence
dryads whirl and
trees sway peacefully
The winter-worn sky reveals a
faded, shimmering bronze and
gold shade, reminiscent of a
withered vermeil and naiad
fluorescent opals, paired
with scarlet demantoids in
smooth charmeuse enamel
mesmerizing maelstroms
of crystalline bonfire
flamingo flowers fit
with a fiery symphony
akin to the reverberations
of a silken folk melody
on the horizon
they shrink to hypnotic ink
scribbles on violet skyline.