Best Blow Over Poems
An ancient twilight tree now stands alone
with weakened cries of olden creak and groan;
winter’s rattling winds do rise and shake it -
in stark silhouette shriveled and reaching
wizened limbs thirst for Mercy beseeching;
prides the deep roots he laid down that did knit -
Nature bemoans as old oak's overblown.
Susan Ashley
November 29, 2018
~ Second Place ~
Contest: The Last
Sponsor: Silent One
*Overblown: to blow over, away, or across. Late 15c., blown over, passed away. For the purpose of this poem, ‘overblown’ means to fall over by force of the wind.. ‘overblown’ can also be defined as ‘passed away’, which in the context of this poem means ‘the death of’
*Rhyme scheme: AA B CC B A*
One day I had a magical seed. I carried it around in my pocket like a special key. It had the power to change humanity and yet it remained unplanted. The Creator placed it upon my heart to grab a shovel. He instructed me to bury the special seed on a hill where no crows could find it. He instructed me to gingerly care for it and water it each and every day. He was the One who created the seed. I found the most sacred place in my entire town to bury this seed. I sat and watched to see how the wind would blow over this spot too. I knew from past experiences that the elements can be very harsh on a thing so delicate and tiny. I loved this seed and wanted it to succeed.
One day as I gathered at the sacred place I saw a tiny seedling emerge. I raised my hands to the Creator thanking him for his miraculous workings. I said a prayer over the fragile plant emerging and wondered what it would be like several months from now. Oh the potential for its growth!
I came back to view the seedling a few months later and it had grown into a budding sapling. There were the most elegant heart-shaped flowers upon it and the aroma of a true friendship had sprung from the soil in which it was planted. I was enraptured with this tree in wait. I was optimistic how grand it would grow to be!
Years had passed and time was on my side. The tree and I had become the best of friends. I even sat beneath its branches one day and had the grandest nap! I dreamed of miracles and joy and butterflies descending upon its branches. I nurtured it with love and prayers over the years and it was standing before me a miracle from the Creator!
The lessons that I learned from this tree of love were great. I learned that time and patience are truly on our side if we have our hearts in the right place. I also learned that just a little water goes a long way when you consistently take the time to bring your watering can to the seed and stretch out your faith. I also learned that it is good to dream with your friends along the way and hope for the miracles around the bend.
All things are possible with God, a seed, and a watering can!
Gwendolen Rix
11-1-14
Hibernation is the name of the game
As we hunker down today from the rain
200 mph winds were sustained
In that Mexican hurricane
Best let it blow over as to a lamp post we're chained
© Jack Ellison 2015
To 3/256 Cherokee Girl
Cute like the fly sun and with paddy curl hairs similar
From those summertime fields blow over her in full swim
And it fits in her small understanding
In front of this Adoptive Indian law
She grows like a lovely calf wondering it should not be.
Upon uplifted petals of her big eyes of half-brown
Indian bloom India Baby Girl a battle of love
And parents’ nightmare is breaking out for months
And the entire globe’s eye could see the idea
Of making a direct pain within her tender heart
And it does not matter you and I shall become
A parent and parching stirs and twist about father’s rights
He does not have it any more.
Flying among twinkly stars in faith
For the 3-year-baby girl the notion but a father’s lack
of Autumn and over the whole prairie shimmering
A compelled of him an Indian loves or ground
To the child he never felt before.
I think of those parental days of affection and love
When the Baby Girl was small and wanted it most;
Standing now in the sea of gestures, you great chief have missed
A cut generation goes by, and your conscience from what that weary buffalo
Love cries it certainly does not exist in your heart anymore.
Baby Girl!
Let us pray because I am going to take you home
Where you will be safe.
Baby Girl!
Let goes and come at last to understand
You and I and the prairie Mother
Always we are going to love you.
Waves crash on the rocky shore
Beyond the dunes there is moor
This land knew both peace and war
In ironic and insipid clash with calm on ocean floor
Is storm on the land in full fury
But it will blow over without becoming truly angry
It will give golden fields of grain
Much needed rain
Standing like a beacon on a hill
Is a large windmill
Nearby there is stone ring
Build by some ancient king
In the center of the meadow
Casting a shadow
There is birch tree
Who’s subtle leaves project mysterious majesty
The tree is testament to time
And the whole island is defined by time
It stands alone in vast ocean but not as vast as time
It is also forgotten by time
But what makes it sublime
When you watch birch tree you can almost smell time
When you remember it as a small shoot now a tree
And on the mainland how things have changed you see
But here noting is different than before
Windmill still stands upon the hill nearby rocky shore
The coral reef still ornaments ocean floor
Stone ring replaces calendar as it did millenniums before
But there is more
Time here is different than on any other shore
Defined by orb of light
It is longer than in any other light
Time is absolute
Everything in it its business will execute
But number previously absolute
Here will grow for this is light’s attribute
And previously absolute number will nourish like a rain
That falls on the golden grain
It will nourish the neural flame
Whose status timeless became
In time everything gets old
The tree the windmill the grains of gold
But in stone ring flame will not dissipate in time
Because it is in cahoots with very time
*Image of Globes provided by Pixabay.
rain and pearl drops
~~
(*rain drops
syllable-based; 5-3-5.)
rain weaves north current
clouds knot up
patterns burst their seams
(*The Gulf Stream - Land has a lower heat capacity than oceans, and it also heats and cools faster than oceans. During the winter, the land is much colder than the oceans. When the westerly winds blow over it, the air cools substantially.)
~~
(**pearl drops
word-based; 3-5-3.)
snow white balls
melts from a woman's neck
swine frolic atop
(**Matthew 7:6 "Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.")
~~
2021 May 16
This place, this time, this way
Oh, that place
It’s just where one feed the wind.
Walking to the river
The lover girl with eyes and heart in center
Her body with smoke and desire
Goes to find one place where she
And her lover friend stopped on the banks.
The Sun has its tide home going
Flashing the light thru the bush
Over the stream.
Love is on the same line of the river
And their Love is like a wheel.
She dreams with the only man to snore
A comfortable life.
Probably not?
She laughs at first looking for lover friend
Suddenly realizing his freedom only
Thinking to fall in Love
Toy with divertice
Even if he did blow over just being able
To pick up and come.
-Man, presence/absence
Is what makes this place so tolerable?
With my man I wll not be lonely
I will sense no mistake.
She feels her lover friend behind her
With a smile wider than his bronzed face
Saying:
-Pretty, do You want to dance with me?
The Lovers pretty much
On their own into the shrubs:
The space of Love here¡
Translucency privileged to see
The union of sky and earth
Because they lived at the edge of Love:
Boy traveling her openness
In his girl venture now
She saying to plant a flower in her patio
And he saying then throw that check away
Lady “because I want to seal yr urn”.
-Love me, sir¡ she exclaimed.
Love exploded with them
Saying She:
Our bodies producing two flowers
And only together do we form a whole
He:
We feel in Love with these pieces
Of sky and earth
Let us hear the pure light
Shining steady thru the Vulva
Opened for FireFlower
And be content.
She:
Love has gotten us
Into this Ecstasy.
rain lilies' blossoms
dried, falling to the dry earth...
rain clouds blow over
Granny Doris Lives On
“There’s no such thing as rain in Tintagel”.
That’s what my Granny Doris says.
“It’s always lovely weather
For grabbing a bag of pegs”.
She ‘heave-ho’s’ wet laundry
Into a basket wide,
Then tugs and grumbles
To drag it all outside.
There’s no such thing as rain in Tintagel
Enough to stop my Gran
From hanging out the laundry
With her wrinkly little hands.
Even when it was raining-
And obviously that was rare-
She’d say “That drizzle’ll blow over”:
Laundry was her only care.
All was calm, all was bright,
Until Colin came to visit one night.
Colin was a hurricane
Of gargantuan force,
Sweeping across from America
Wreaking havoc and making a mess.
But poor Granny Doris,
Intent on pegging out,
Didn’t listen to the news
And had no clue about:
Colin the destroyer,
Colin the big, bad storm.
He’d blown the fence over
And was ready for so much more.
We drove against the storm
To reach her on Atlantic Way,
But as we opened the garden gate
Socks, knickers and tights flew our way.
Colin lifted Doris up in the air
By billowing up her skirt.
She waved a sheet which then unfurled,
And blew her up further.
Her little legs dangled
As Colin swept her off.
He took her out to sea
And we’ve still not found her yet.
They searched for days for Doris
But find her, they never did.
They only recovered her peg bag,
But not a single peg.
Then, days later, Mum
Turned on the radio.
The weather was announcing
Another storm to come.
And this is how I know
That there’s life after death,
‘Cos STORM DORIS was on her way-
The biggest hurricane yet!
copyright Emily Joshua
The farmer thought out his plan
How he would prepare his land
He knew the seasons to come
And how to prepare for each
For his son he began to teach
How all thing sprout from this seed
And to protect it from this weed
For, if the weeds hover around
It blocks the sunlight for it to grow
Therefore, can not produce or show
Not knowing which way to go
But if you take away its weeds
It grows toward the sunlight
Standing strong and producing many
He says now son
We will give them water
For they shall absorb and stand firm
Growing above others for all to see
We shall plant them in
the most nourished soil
Providing a solid foundation
Not to blow over
As the storms come
Looking after their every need
For their shall be many for us to feed
Focus -- what do you want?
Even you do not know the answer.
I am so confused.
I do not know who you are.
We had made so much progress,
but then you slammed the door.
I miss who you were,
I hate who you have become.
I await the day,
that you realize what you have done.
I hope it not be too late,
For i love you no matter what.
Wish I knew you felt the same,
But I'll tell you what...
When the day comes,
the day you realize just what you have done,
regret alone just won't be enough.
Do not realize what you do to me,
Your actions affect me more than I show,
But you are too blind to see..
Just how much you are killing me.
I will cry myself to sleep tonight,
But this pain I feel can't make it alright.
I fake a smile, but all the while I am slowly..
Dying inside.
You can not see it,
You will never even know,
But I will tell you what...
When the day comes,
the day you realize what you have done,
Regret alone will just not be enough.
You think your mistakes are okay.
It will all blow over when you are done.
You think forgiveness is in everyone's heart.
And here is where you have won.
But pain can only last so long.
Then it turns to something wrong.
Hate is a natural feeling,
but not when it is from me to you.
I will not say i hate you,
or even that i will someday;
But I'll tell you what..
When the day comes,
the day you realize what you have done,
Regret will not be enough.
I can not say when the time comes,
That i will forgive you for the pain i have been through.
And for that, all I can say, is that you have not won.
Love soul never fade Body beauty blow over Spontaneous nub
The Storm
Early in the morning mist
When the iridescent sun-rays aglow,
Pencil pierced through the dark cloud,
Touching the earth in places;
A gold like revelation,
Suddenly! the rays got blindfolded,
The far country looked gloomy,
And clump of baobab hushed to the date palms,
The covey of pigeons and parrots whispered,
To the bevy of Sparrows and Woodpeckers to pause,
With eyes thin and narrowed,
To ascertain the magnitude of the storm;
That loomed afar in the horizon,
It came like the charge,
Of thousand horse men, sand, dust,
And a resounding gust,
The trees bowed, danced and spun,
Leaves flailing madly like,
The kaftans of Muezzins caught in the wind,
In the present penumbra,
That enveloped the surrounding field,
That gave way gradually,
To pellucid air;
Far off came the soulful sound of the rain,
Pattering the roofs and pelting the window-panes,
Like a million showering crystals;
As it washed down,
A year’s dust, languor and expectation,
The ground’s dusty aroma,
Gyrate like a mysterious perfume,
And the dribbling water,
Carry along slowly through,
The sodden ground.
Now the peasants may say
For the dead dry,
And the castrated branches:
Thank goodness!
Thank heavens!
For the water of life
For new grasses that shoot,
And the Flora that bloom,
As the wind whistled deviance through the woods
And blast through the swept neighborhoods,
Hearts beat quickened,
Glances among the quietness;
As whet ears,
Listened to the crashes,
And in that soporific,
Spell-like foreboding,
Between sleep and wakefulness,
The owl,
Perch deep inside a hole
In the trunk of giant Baobab,
Waits for the storm to blow over.
One voice it speaks, the forest confides
Its concealed union where it resides
A homeland above, below its essence abides
One voice it speaks, nature’s secret to provide
Winds blow over limb laden trees
As the acorn drops into its fate
Above the knotted, gnarled debris
Into salamander soils to wait
Its whisper does not to hesitate
It germinates unlocking its splendid fruit
To open wide in all its glory to imitate
The guardian family of oak and root
One voice it speaks, the forest confides
Its concealed union where it resides
A homeland above, below its essence abides
One voice it speaks, nature’s secret to provide
April 5, 2022
Sands blow over
touching inside deep waves
turning tides warmly glow,
softly fluttering winds touching gently
upon the shores.
An oasis of beauty
deeply dazzling
freely calling your name,
drifting a carpet mist
kissing the air sweetly
silver shadows
hauntingly magic echoes,
carrying music upon
cotton clouds bouncing
in each and every single
whispering silent breath gasping
Breathing upon
one golden ritual
forever shines always,
I believe in you love,
a sunflower
made beautifully,
brightening sunlight beams
in every which way,
adoring light
all i ever wanted
is you babe .