Best Camelia Poems


Premium Member Quiet Beauty

The sun is shining brightly now
The clouds from the hurricane gone
Air is crisp, cool slightly moving
From the northwest where winter comes

One lone hugh hickory decorates
The wood below the house with gold
The water droplets on the grass
Glistens in the soft yellow sun

The crows and roosters seem to be 
In a choral competition
For on stage spotlight in woods where
Burnt sienna contrasts pine green

The needles still linger on trees
Ginko still is green waiting change
To the yellow of fall which means
Winter is upon the whole land

The sasanqa camelia blooms
Double white blooms first profussion
In seven years, early freeze kills
Most years, blessed with quiet beauty

Premium Member Camelia Reticulata

Valentine Camelia gift
A forever gift he gave
Blooms its beautiful blossoms
All years come what may

Sponsor:Olajide Adelana
Story of Valentine

The New Farm Animal

Camelia Rose blew her nose,
The noise was quite gigantic,
Elouise goose flapped her wings,
Other animals were acting frantic.

Betsy dog ducked in her kennel
As the din echoed round the farm,
It sounded like a foghorn
And was causing such alarm.

Neddy horse hid in his stall,
Clara cow inside the milking shed,
The pigs no longer at their trough
Waiting to be fed.

When the sound finally disappeared
Camelia Rose spoke in a voice so calm,
"I'm just a llama with a cold,
No one will come to harm."


America

With the grandeur of prairies and canyon
With Georgian welcomes from Springer Mountain
With cooler welcomes of Katahdin
America rises with five million feet 

To exult among more mosses, mammals, trees
Than have survived in spaces smaller than countries
A president named Teddy signed off on it
America rises with these five million feet

With delirious descent of peregrines
With the swooping swish of eagles with fish
With raising and saving whooping cranes 
America still rises across millions of feet

Grace as in the disappearing Chestnut
Timelessness and wonder in the redwood
Gifts of Euphorbia, Aster, Camelia
America rises in chlorophyll and feet

With red and green blood that will unify
With Hibiscus threatened by goats in Hawaii
America rises and falls from view
America for all, always preserved by the few

(c) First published with gratitude in 2005; God Bless America - and the rest of humanity. Shalom, shalom!
© Anil Deo  Create an image from this poem.

Loves Bouquet

He gave me a red Camelia,
That said I was the flame in his heart
And a dainty, blue Forget-Me-Not
To remember his love, when we were apart

To tell me, I brought him happiness
He sent me Honeysuckle, perfumed sweet
Then Lily-of-the- Valley
Which told me I made his life complete

Next, came a fragrant Daffodil
To say I was his only love
Echoed by a pretty Jonquil
As golden, as the sun up above

Lastly, came a single Rose
Whose beauty was beyond compare
A perfect bud, of the brightest red
His pure and undying love to declare

Although their beauty is fleeting
And their fragrance slowly, fades away
His simple acts, of giving flowers
Mean much more, than words can say.

Premium Member A Rose By Any Other

What's in a name, you say
  Is a rose still a rose by any other
And isn't 'Mom' a lot more loving
  Than calling her 'Mother' 

A name is an occupation, a means to a living
  There's Taylor and Saylor, though never a Jailor
There's Carpenter, Brickman and even Ferdman*
  Stockman and Lockman -- but as yet no Nerdman
 
A name's an ideal, a wish for Biblical greatness
  There's Moses and Aaron, David and Saul  
Esther and Mordecai, Jesus and Peter and Paul
  There's Jacob's son Joseph, his technicolor coat  
All the rest of his sons ~ Abraham, Martin and John** 

Let us come full circle and return to our Rose
  There are flowers like Camelia and Amelia Bedelia***
There's Dahlia and Zinnia, Blossom and Bluebell  
  Jasmine, Yasmina, Violet, Daisy, Hazel and Surapon****

Though all of these names are so pretty, so nice
  My two favorite names are 'Sugar and Spice'


____________________________________________________
* 'Ferdman' means 'Horse Man'
** 'Abraham, Martin and John' was the name of a Top-10 pop hit, recorded
     by Dion DiMucci in 1968
*** Amelia Bedelia is the slightly wacky heroine of a children's book series
****Surapon sneaked in here because I needed a rhyme. The name has
       nothing to do with a flower.  It is a male name. I know a Surapon who
       is an ESL student from Thailand at the University of the Potomac. 
       His name means 'brave warrior,' (I think)... Oh, well. What's in a name?...


Premium Member Red Blossoms

Down where the Camelia blossoms blood red
In the heart of winter, when others rest
Poverty is stamped out and all are fed
And red-breasted Robin has flown the nest

Few left to struggle with a cold winter
And family farms have disappeared from view
None left to tend the fires' dying embers
No inheritance left for children to accrue

Will the Robins reappear bringing spring
A rebirth of values and  self-esteem
Planted fields whose great harvest brings
A wealth of values, wisdom that beams

Poverty still planted where blossoms red
Values disappeared, disrespect bred

Sonnet: With 10 syllable count and rhyme
scheme: abab, cdcd, efef, gg
Called an English sonnet....

Premium Member Flowerful Fun

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.
© Tom Valles  Create an image from this poem.

In the Garden

Fog
Morning
The silence
Camelia
On the ground some unknown reptilia
© Jim Wilson  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Camelia

camelia
dressed in white wedding dress
draped veil on the ground

You Are Mine

Hey beautiful lady, 
You can look at the blue sky, and say, " This is mine"
The blue sky will keep quiet in complete silence.
While the sun is about to set and you are holding a Camelia on your hand,
You could say, " Flowers, you are mine".
But the flowers will keep quiet in complete silence.
If the moon light drops on your house,
You have right to say, " This moon light is mine"
But the moon light will keep quiet in complete silence.
If the rain kisses on your forehead,
You can say, "This rain is mine"
But the rain will keep quiet in complete silence. 
If the wind blows your pitch black hair,
You could say, " This wind is mine"
But the wind will keep quiet in complete silence.
If the birds sing up on the trees,
You could say, "The birds are mine"
But the birds will keep quiet in complete silence.
If water flows in the river,
You could say, " Water is mine"
Water will keep quiet in complete silence.
Hey beautiful lady,
If you come to me and holding my hands,
You could say, " Your are only mine"
How could I keep quiet myself?
I will say loudly, ' I am yours, you are mine'

Premium Member Don'T Ask

Don't ask lovely Star Magnolia
Nor blueberries' bell blooms
Japanese Magnolia won't tell
Lest quickly seasons assume

Who browned the awesome pink blossoms
Or turned camelia squishy
Was it the brown nervous squirrel
With his dancing tail swishy

It must have been Bobcats at night
Who climbed in blooming trees  
Then painted tips with brown markers
Not the northerly breeze


Maybe unfinished???

Premium Member Out On the Porch (3)

It is warm and moist this morning
The ginger is in full bloom now
The beauty of the white blooms 
Against the waxy green foldiage  is outstanding

It is such a contrast to what lies under ground
The root is such a spicy hot item to add to food
Ginger for Asian recipes or homemade ginger snaps
It is faithful to bloom at the very end of summer

The running rose has reached up and grabbed
The pear tree and put blooms in her hair
I don't know how I can get up there to prune 
The wild shoots that are running away

The musadines vines are beginning to turn golden yellow
There isn't much fruit this year because they were not pruned
For there to be abundance of fruit the master gardener has 
To severly prune them to cut away any dead and suckers

These suckers limbs would pull the living water out but produce
No fruit, only green limbs with lots of leaves
The master gardener has to be busy keeping the garden in full production
The pruning, fertilizing, and watering are all necessary for fruit and beauty

The sultana camelia is shiny with its waxy green foliage
The buds have formed for the blooms
If the cold of winter isn't too severe they will be loaded
With their white blooms to grace the garden in the dead of winter

Inspirations has come this morning from just viewing God's good earth
The sun is rising casting its rays upon the light feathery clouds painting
Them a dessert sand 
The light is penetrating, casting away all gloom opening the door to possibilities

Premium Member One More Thanksgiving

The Snow Camelia hedge row is in full bloom. Lovely white as newly fallen snow against waxy dark emerald green.  The sun broke the horizon in a pastel pink but very swiftly turned to a clear horizon.  The area where the sun ball rises is a golden glow. Thank you God for a chance to live another day and another Thanksgiving.  Now surrounded by sounds_crows, roosters, and a bird sound that is just chir-rup really mimics a cricket but not.  The cold is penetrating saying go inside escape the cold go to a warm place. Once again God thanks for a warm place to go and its comfort.  The ambrosia needs to be made, getting breakfast, and four people need to get ready. The sun is touching the top of the trees and duty calls come..

Camelia - Rabindranath Tagore

Camelia - Rabindranath Tagore

Kamala was her name.
I saw her name written on her journal 
She was traveling on a tram, with her sibling along, toward the path leading to the college.
I was a back bencher there. 
From one side, of her face, the smile line is visible
And the unbridled hair, touching softly her neck underneath the braid 
With the book and journal in her lap 
I missed the designated stoppage where I was supposed to stop.

Now, I have a stricter time, allotted for a walk outside
That calculation is not quite a musing with my workspace
Almost befitting with their leaving time, whence it is time.
Often we meet
I ponder in silence, regardless if there is any relation or not
She is my co-traveler.
A face with innocent intelligence
Was evident there, fulbright.
The young forehead had untied haid rushed to upside
The bright eyes had a gaze, unhesitant 
It comes to my mind, why there is not any crisis, ensuing
Saving civilization from, to make this life glorious, charismatic, flying.

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