Best Garland Poems
Cherry Blossoms Bloom
Resplendently dressed in Pink
Seducing the Spring
Glory unfolding
They release their sweet fragrance
Pirouette and twirl
Music from the breeze
With limbs so graceful swaying
Blushing and bowing
Time of renewal
A fleeting symbol of life
In two weeks farewell
Ethereal Muse
Celebration of nature
Next spring awaits you
Author's Note:
I hope that in this set of Haiku, I've managed to convey the traditional importance of the Cherry Blossom Season in Japan.
Cherry blossoms are the symbolic flower of the spring, a time of renewal and the fleeting nature of life. Their life span is very short. After their beauty peaks around two weeks, the blossoms start to fall.
I liken these flowers to the beautiful Heavenly elusive Muses, the daughters of Zeus.
The awesomeness of the natural beauty of Japan is continued in the my poem and arrangement - 'A Rose by any other name ---'
Moments of meditative serenity
Crimping pleating floral white hybrid washi
Shaping and triangulating dainty folds
Stringing vertex wings of freedom symmetry
Garland of classic crane origami
Wishing long happy peaceful life
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on April 25, 2019 for contest A GARLAND sponsored by JULIA WARD
A female tongue pushes me down from the swing of sleep.
Rain kids rouse the stink of railway track in the dawn.
A long chain of complaints tinkles on her lips.
Worries about her female children at home
rise up like the black smoke from the train.
His liquor reddened half opened eyes gaze
at the life-like-fan – its rotation makes him dizzy.
His sweet brown lady drags him into his duties.
She arranges attractively jasmine garlands
in her basket on the floor of the compartment.
Basket never enjoys the fragrance, but only carries.
First printed in my book, Kanoli Kaleidoscope, by Punkswritepoemspress, US.
I wove a garland of flowers
A garland full of love
Beautiful stars fallen on the green carpet
I collected and wove
The dew drunk red rose amongst
The daisies so white
The heady jasmine round them
I wove into a ring
The tiny blue bells danced around
The lily’s unstained beauty
Yellow wild flowers peeped from under
The vibrant petals of marigold
Then into this ring I wove
My love and desires
And held it against my heart
For him when he’d come near
By-Tahera Mannan
Contest- Flowers
Sponsored by- Francine Roberts
I am an ephemeral purple flower, a rare variety,
named as most beautiful!
Did that arouse adoration to a mother’s heart?
She chose the name for her baby in the womb,
She thought, my name suits best for her girl
Who was going to arrive soon!
My name kindled her imagination…and she
remembered the Princess of Malawa in disguise,
the enchanting dancer and heroine of Sanskrit classic...
Prince Agnimitra enamoured by her
beauty, grace and talents - happy ending to the historical
Romance, although after gripping intrigue!
Part of my name indicates a garland, usually
used for worship ….to the mother I symbolized
all the traits - kindness, strength, wisdom, and grace...
she wished her daughter to possess!
Europe was frozen in a tide of hate
The genius Jew was being persecuted
Bound to the intransigence of fate
His violin played the tunes they executed
Now it was time to think as they electrocuted
The hopes of young people in the dawn of their history
Whose own stories would have so much mystery
Down in the baker’s the story ran around
Hitler was marching to a frenzied tune
He bruised the flowers underneath the ground
And told them works of genius had no boon
While the bridal pair planned their honeymoon
On country roads, a visit to the town
Where they would see wonders and a family found
The day of the wedding dawned so fair
It would seem creation began again
Every single person going there
Wore the best they could, the men
With dark serge suits, and a fountain pen
For Granddad to write to his daughter
Who lived across three thousand miles of water
The wedding Nora had lived for all her life
Now like fate, could be too late to cancel
Nothing would please her more than being a wife
No longer a woman her relatives liked to spancel
They went the evening before to the quiet chancel
Made their vows in private for each other
Far away, war’s declaration on a brother.
His thoughts were far away this harvest morning
The corncrake singing in the flowery ditch
Struck into his heart like a heavy warning
That life was choked with love, so rich
A fantasy dove-tailing in augured pitch
Be faithful to me, the bird sang, my husband
I never want to wear another’s riband
She wore the oyster dress her sister gave her
It was soft and crumpled like a clotted cream
Her veil was raised when he kissed her
And she thought she was fainting from the dream
What could matter now, but what could seem
His handsome face, his hair so fine and black
There wasn’t one feature where he lacked
Her face was lovely as a golden flower
Her dress, a simple thing with fine kick-pleat
It lay like wisps of cloud upon her tower
Where beauty, youth and kindness all could meet
Such tiny pearls slid on her throat so neat
Their hour of tortured chastity was over
Profusion, perfection, they were like gods in clover.
(c) Rosemarie Rowley from "In Memory of Her", 2004 Dublin
alone
solitude, shush.
the blessing of silence,
camouflaged in crowds of people.
set free
total!
the joy, peaceful,
wild, natural life's sounds.
solace in solitude once found.
wanton
pleasure
to live one's life
as a hermit, relaxed
out in the wild solitudes found
serene
no strife
mother nature
on who my life depends
my only friend, one i can trust
feeds me
happy
solitudes bliss
can i go back to strife
being tied down, deafening sound
my wife
alone
the joy peaceful,
as a hermit, relaxed
my only friend one i can trust
my wife
-------------------------------------------------
Form Type: Syllabic
Origins: Unknown -
Creator: Unknown - Anyone know?
Number of Lines: 30
Rhyme Scheme: Not applicable
Meter: Not applicable
Heartbeats
stilled but the
echoes echo on in
memories once shared between two
sisters.
No blood
had tied the bonds
nor sealed the envelope
of friendship and of promises
entwined.
Mingled
confessions laced
nightmares, dreams, fears and hopes
the expressions of life that could
come true.
Futures
have been murdered.
Dreams of severed hearts bleed
but tomorrow fills cradles with
nothing.
Sisters
are sisters still
even after a fire
has been extinguished by faceless
questions.
Heartbeats
had tied the bonds;
nightmares, dreams, fears and hopes
but tomorrow fills cradles with
questions.
Written for a friend whose best friend was murdered.
No fancy words to please old or youth
Simple lyric silently speaking the truth
Form of art not learned through training
Flows all seasons be it drought or raining
Selfish motives can’t drive pen to write
Harder gets if done with tries and tried
Poetry is a painting seen with closed eyes
Narrated in words with truth as device
A child for a writer each of the creations
Caressed each hour with unsaid emotions
Imagery of life in things seen immortal
Effort to turn pessimist side to chortle
Musing mingle of black-white syllables
Enclosing deep meanings in form of fable
Garland of soul created for one and all
Motive to save Humanity from fall…
A sacred Garland
I try to knit.
Like flowers I pluck
Souls I pick.
Like pearls I gather
Minds I collect.
Laying them before
My Lord
Hoping to knit
That Sacred Garland
Of virtuous Deeds!
A GARLAND OF ROSES FOR MY POEt FRIENDS
People in my present
and those in my past.
Mean more to me than
any other happening.
I know their names, their
smiles and hugs and as
long as I live, their faces,
love and attitudes, really
overwhelm me with sunrise
gratitude.
I need not be the leader of
the poetical pack!
But they comment, soupmail
and are such a support, I know
that they always have my back.
I wanted to thank all most publicly.
With humbleness and simplicity.
Some make me laugh at my
constantly questioning myself!
I am not Sarah Sonnet and not
the best!
But for my circle of friends, know
that I will have a smile on face each
day, and on the final one.
When I am put to final rest....
Gratefully,
Panagiota
6/22/2021
*****
Dedicated to all those special to me:
You know who you are!
Somewhere over the rainbow, perhaps her own heart's
Once upon a note ? Baby, I did not know Norma Jeane afore
Vagabond time ushered another of this world's orphaned beauty
Away but I be a child whom was aware, as there; these fragmented bits
Catching your glimpse until one day, your beauty, also spread her wings to fly
Beyound the gray churning cyclones in truth's black and white; unto colourful's gold....
Yellowbrick road while we became his Tin Man yet she, this lover of love looking at you, Baby.
Box office draw!
What Louie B. had in mind.
Dollar signs for him and all the others,
but not for you, sweetheart.
After all, music was the ultimate whore!
And for the sake of timing...
the rhythm of your own heart
would, ultimately, bleed.
But who could understand
the roots...
of your own, underlying, psychological motivations
for your performance!
And how many know
and are acquainted with that gene?
To make you scared
on wits end,
more than scarecrow, himself.
The wicked witch
would have her way
to terrify you...
beyond all imagination!
And what about your own nerves...
you put to work,
on stage,
with all your rage?
Your audience will tell you.
They cheered you on to your own demise,
from your shyness...
and an over-bearing mother.
Overwhelmed with all of this,
why not just go ahead
and jump...
or, at least, take the ride?
Better than a broomstick!
Born with that same gene,
why not choose the fantasy?
If only for the sake of knowing,
that incredible need to escape.
Would there be any other alternative,
to see the forest from the trees?
To see reality from our own experience,
for what it is?
Finding the perfect fit in Culver City
seemed the answer, for a while.
Home at last, all in a dream...
to never, never-land.
Off to see the Wizard
of make-believe...
and suddenly,
you were let go!
You were trapped
in your own skin...
but you would win,
time and time again.
Until the ultimate fate,
beyond belief.
Your time was up!
Hollywood Angel, Somewhere over the rainbow
And on down that yellow brick road through
The years and stage to stage well That's Entertainment
Still going strong, although she's been gone for
So long her spirit still lives on...
Like a journey to a star, maybe once, maybe twice
MGM favorites would come to see her show from
L.A. to New York City standing in the shadow of
Her name in bright neon lights...
Then the curtains would rise and the applause was
Louder than thunder, she’d just stand there with her
Arms crossed under the spotlight 'til the moment
Was right but as soon as she'd start singing Call the
Press, call the news the crowd would go wild again
But she had such a powerful voice she could sing over
The, singing Zing Went The Strings Of My Heart, Come
Rain or shine, Judy’s Ollies, Pretty Girl Milking Her Cow,
Just in time and of course Somewhere Over The Rainbow
But that was never the end of the show, she’d ask the
Audience what they'd like to hear now, she would never
Leave them for less than what they came for, from
Las Vegas to Singapore...
From The Wizard of Oz to A Star Is Born, the world
Remembers and still mourns, Francis Gum otherwise
Known as JUDY GARLAND, a timeless legend like a
Journey to a Star, way up high where the blue birds
Fly!
True love,
Tender and sweet.
Kisses, cuddles, the joy.
Young true love breaks many a heart!
Persist!
You must!
Compromising?
Yes, it can work for some,
When two becomes one, does it still?
No doubts?
Pleasure?
Maybe despair?
If the latter then think!
Infatuation? Eyes' can't deny
Won't lie!
True love,
It's, passion, gone!
Stop thinking, leave,
And as the weeks do pass you by,
Again!
Happy,
The truth found you.
Broken heart now mended!
Still young? True love will come, find you,
Again!