Best Greenness Poems
Dearest young leaf,
Why so melancholy?
Thy emerald sheath has not borne Time's folly.
Think not of Autumn's deathly brilliance,
Of colors rich and flaky grounds,
For Thou wilt weep every moment hence,
While Springtime's youth still bounds.
Greet Thy greenness with glee,
For thy root to the Oak remains strong,
Aeolus' fury on Thee has no effect till Summertime gone.
So worry not of what is to come,
Enjoy Thy existence, little one.
Form:
You Are The One I think of the most.You know and carry unconditional love.You have experienced the pains of pains.When You're not in My presence to walk with Me;My mind carries You and holds You deep in thought.The pureness that grows from Good devours The Evil...The walls of Your Heart fall down and open into fields No One Else can possible reach,love,know,or roam.The Wisdom of Your Fields develop and rules Valleys.Valleys expand into Vast Kingdoms filled with Knowledge,Power,and Intelligence...Across The Horizon lies The Kingdom of Heaven in boundaries of grey only a Lion Heart can visualize.The Strength of a Castle is built by Your Own two hands held by Fate.Only a Lion Heart has the keys to open the doors and the ability to cross through the rooms furnished with Destiny untold.A candle is lit.You pace the rhythm with a steady beat.Your Heart restores The Eternal Light with-in.Truth becomes factual.The Greenness of Facts unfold into Beautiful Gardens. Among The Gardens indescribable Rays of Hope appear with Faith as Your Spirit.Your Spirit becomes excelled by love.... LOVE Blossoms into The Reality of Freedom. Freedom is enhanced by Courage...The Courage of A Lion Heart that holds Forgiveness for All. With-in Your Heart A Garden of desire is standing firm and grounded...Could it be possible that You have A Lion Heart? Respect,Understanding,Love;that is Everlasting Serenity... I often wonder where this comes from as an Orion of ringing appears undetectable in Ones Ears... The Lion roars and The Angels sing softly with an inner Peace.May Your Gift of Acceptance Shine-On...From A Creator;to an Angel,better yet A Lion Heart.Walk among The Winners just for Today...
By Charlene L. Wilcox 03-24-2014
Lost in a vast forest of old paths, winding
A damp cold place of gnarled trees, twisting
Whispers of solemn grandness
And hues of greenness
This writer's
Bliss
This dreamer's
Forlorn deep darkness
Where drooping branches caress
And dark poetic thoughts are rambling
Lost in a vast forest of old paths, winding
__________________________
February 12, 2015
Poetry/Rhyme/Poetic Bliss
Copyright Protected, ID 02-640-399-12
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
My invented form is called Poetic Ramblings
For the Standard contest An Invented Form,
sponsor Andrea Dietrich, Judged 03/2015
Fourth place
Color is an integral part of my life, essential in
physical descriptions, a blessing to language.
Colors are perfect subjects for character sketches.
For one perusing the color wheel, it's easy to
choose green, a color of such versatility and
profound meaning.
Symbol of nature and youth, signifying hope for
eternal life and respect for the environment,
green nestles happily in the spectrum between
bright companions blue and yellow.
The verdure of spring adorns the plants that sustain
our bodies, delight our eyes, and lift our spirits.
Lovely evergreens grace our forests, yards, and even
our homes, decorated and surrounded by long-awaited
gifts and jubilant families celebrating the season.
These wholesome traits and so many more surely outweigh
the greenness of occasional jealousy or inexperience.
entered in Eve Roper's New or Old 5 Poetry Contest on August 2, 2016
placed 2nd
"What do we have for breakfast?"
"Lettuce and cabbage juice!" she
replies excitedly.
She had forced him to change
his blue pajamas to green
pajamas, then he returns
to bed -
the bed had to have green sheets,
green bed cover, and a green
pillow.
"Why do you do this to me?!" he asks.
"I was born in St. Patrick's Day!!!"
she replies.
He can't wait for a green light
to escape a world where
everything he hates is green.
He's afraid he's lost her love in the greenness....
My poems are like creeping vines that I have planted well,
I tend them in my garden of evergreen poetry to be strong;
They are waiting quietly to release their swirling spiral tendrils,
Tendrils that will adhere and entwine and entangle you in my words.
You have whispered to me a challenge and I quiver with joy,
My need to capture you is overwhelming, I am driven to win;
I will do anything you request of me to impress and to please you,
But to lose, it is unfathomable and I can become hostile and clinging.
Can you not see my words so lovely, like wandering thread,
I am tranquility and you can rest in my coolness and my shade;
Hugging, caressing whispering to your muse my beautiful wordiness,
Come wrap yourself in my words, be entwined, there will be no escape.
I was born to write innocent words, to give my writing power,
My need is great, to be acknowledge and known is my one goal;
Nothing else will be acceptable, I crave your muse to hear my cry,
Take my wild poetic words and poems high and let me shine in the sun.
Let's make a deal, if you release me on my upward journey,
I will not encircle you in my wandering seeking green tendrils;
Withdrawal of my choking, hanging greenness will be your reward,
You will be quite safe after I withdraw my clinging hold on your muse.
______________________________
September 23, 2015
Poetry/Verse/Like Creeping Tendrils
Copyright Protected, ID 15-711-661-0
all Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, You Want It Bad, Then Bribe Me,
sponsor, Casarah Nance
Fourth Place
I find you in an old silent pond,
The imagery you've left will outlive all,
With nature,your immortal bond
You will stand like a kiri tree tall.
You, the gem of haiku,
Your name be echoed in Fuji's peak,
Mogami river shall chant your lines
Your praise be sung by the Cuckoo.
The rivers and the oceans shall seek
To preserve you in their shrines.
The Cherry trees bow in thankfulness
Pines remind of your gingko walks,
Spring departs,autumn smiles in happiness
The rivers, the winds and the clouds.
Though time fades away,deem all out,
You shall remain in greenness of nature
Forever alive and forever young.
This word-wreath be bestowed
Upon you and your name shall feature
In the valley and ocean shall chant your song.
On the bank of my heart's Eden,
Reunited, but parted, were life and I,
By an unseen veil.
And now I stand,
Watching,
The unearthly land,
Whose beautiful weather,
I cannot feel but sense,
Is something more than spring,
And held away by an arcane fence,
There stand the angelic flowers blossoming,
Whose sweet scents,
And colours really soothing,
I know are there,
There presence I can swear,
But I am barred to perceive,
More than as if in a monochromatic dream.
I see the colours,
And the lights,
But not enough bold are my sights,
To carry them across the door to my soul,
As they do not know,
Where the door is hidden,
Maybe in the very Eden.
Maybe below the long, green grass,
Made of emeralds' slivers,
Fore whose assuaging greenness my eyes crave.
Or maybe under those godly rivers,
Flowing into the oceans of light,
Maybe in the core of air, in flight,
The heavenly air,
To breath in which, I long,
And to fill it with a freedom song,
To light candles of peace in its each layer.
The saintly air,
In which I dream to disperse,
Like prophetic words,
That can echo the divine call,
To open the doors to my soul.
I look at my Eden through the invisible wall,
Knowing, somehow, that one day,
The wall will be melted away,
By my tears,
Swept away,
By the breeze of my prayers.
I stand praying to be reunited,
With my breaths, my soul, my flight,
Gazing at the wonderful but distant sight,
With my heart heavy,
Corners of my eyes wet,
I pray that I may get,
And reach soon, what is mine,
Feeling to have heard,
A whisper from the divine,
That to reach it, I have been destined.
"Spring drew on...and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps." —Charlotte Brontë
Spring heeds His voice,
Prepared to rejoice…
Spring showers wash away each fear,
Singing light across the new year…
Spring invites souls to the blessing,
As sun sings hope so impressing…
Spring whispers of His amazing,
Silencing the past, always praising…
Spring knows the time has come,
The dark of winter will succumb…
Spring risks the disgrace, the shame,
As the wind begins to play its game…
Spring, mostly alive with pleasure,
Restores the spirit’s joy, a treasure…
Spring erases all the tired,
Bringing new, it is inspired…
Spring’s smile, it is assured,
Brings peace that has endured…
Spring listens to His command,
Spreading glory, so great and grand…
Spring is God’s grace poured out,
On the heart who refuses to doubt!
Freedom turquoise sky, golden wings and me
We are utterly delightfully unencumbered
Loved for ourselves
Admired
Petted
As we float happily on the golden wings
of happiness, sheer enthusiasm and joy
softly float precariously close to our best
friend tree, a twinkly, sparkly, tree of greenness and fun.
A quirky, tree, who has befriended me
And loved me
And taken care of me
Like the wind
Also free and
Fabulous!
I come back often.
To be admired and loved.
When you sang, dreams croaked, then you ceased to be a volcano,
It was simpler to become a rock, not letting yourself be unraveled by the waves of myopia.
After seasons died in your arms, resigned to your cold might,
You questioned if perhaps all flowers tear their petals in vain for you.
You were left emptied of greenness, a vast void where echoes can't return,
You've lost the appetite for light and horizons, a crownless tree in the purple twilight.
Oh, how you wished to remain the same old fir, clutching a world of rays to your chest,
But you let the day slip into night, you departed to become the leaf you await to fall.
Nymphs in chorus called you to shout again, for the wind to blow in your blue day,
But you stayed silent, and in your silence the tear of the sea extinguished in a fist of foam,
You feared the equinox that doesn't come, the persistent remembrance of a song once drawn,
And you feigned your existence into a white beginning of hibernation, like a silence before a revelation.
Do you believe that once you bloomed, the storm can't break the branch that holds you?
You stopped being the barbarian that made the echo in the mountain laugh at itself,
And in exchange for smiles, a sad pass settled on your face, casting long shadows,
An unanswered question that floats above you, a flight that no longer knows how to reach its destination.
Ah, you’ve lost her, that fearless bird that used to scent the filters of your soul!
You've ceased your word, halted the depth from caressing the root of the sky.
You've forgotten the whirlwind that lifted you above the world, and now you search for meaning,
You are a snail without a shell, feather without flight, a ripple without an ocean, a sky without a constellation.
Is waking harder? Is oblivion gentler than the sweet pretext of remembrance?
You wonder why the stars do not answer your indescribably late call,
The road back seems too long now, legends speak of new beginnings, barren horizons.
Slowly but surely, you lost it... in a pass of slippery fog over your world,
Now you are the slave to your own echoes, seeking a mirror in me so you can breathe once more.
I am ready for some violets, the sun,
Dewdrops, wet grass, tulips, and daffodils
Marigolds, geraniums and warm, sultry weather.
My socks are cold and wet, soggy even.
I slipped on the ice twice yesterday.
My grandchildren live in this tundra.
We can make igloos out of what winter is delivering.
What about moving south? Sure, where none of my grandchildren are.
Or are ever going to be living. No thanks.
I will wait until the violets and the chrysanthemums are ready.
In their own time, delighting me greatly when they arrive at last.
Delighting in the grass, springing back into pretty greenness.
Twelve Steps
(with love, for Barbara)
By Franklin Price
04/13/2020
Twelve steps away you're sleeping
In our giant king sized bed
I pray you're resting peacefully
As these thoughts go through my head
If I could, I'd take your pain
Give you a decent appetite
Go through chemo for you
Give you sleep throughout the night
Give you energy to garden
Enjoy where the rays are from
Put the earth between your fingers
Return the greenness to your thumb
Give you joy again for reading
Strength for shopping at the mall
To enjoy the flowers in the Spring
And changing leaves, when comes the fall
It's not within my power
To give all these things to you
To pray for and to love you
Is the most that I can do
To hold you and to stand by you
To place faith in God above
No matter how this whole thing goes
Never doubt you have my love
Springtime greenness life release
Bluebonnets grow high
Sweetness entanglement tastes
Kiss on purple sky
Yesterday’s bloom colors fade
Tailored vision dines
Seeds rising to magical
Bath liquid sunshine
© 4/21/2015
Andrea Dietrich's poetry form The 7/5 Trochee with Rhyme Scheme a/b/c/b**
These lovely plants, trees, shrubs
Thrive the year around with their
Constant coloring and aura of most
Majestic “Deep Greenness” which
Testifies powerfully to the symbol
Of life that they portend in all of
Mother Nature’s varied seasonal
Weather conditions especially in
Winter as the snowflakes fall both
Cold and White the Evergreen is there
With its trademark glory of green
Signifying continuous life renewal
As the Cold White Snow falls on the
Ground and prepares our next Earthly
Transition to the new calendar year
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(December 9, 2014) (Verse poetic format)