Best Ground Cover Poems


Premium Member Flower Garden

Asters litter beds in rainbow colours
Berries red and black slowly growing
Clover adding bright patches of green
Daisy's dotting the rolling lawns
Enchanting us with their beauty
Fox gloves waving their wands of trumpets
Gerbera brightly show the sun their faces
Hibiscus blown by gentle hot breezes sway
Irises joining in glinting and glimmering
Jasmine flowers spreading out profusely as
Kale fish swim in the pond flashing colour
Lilies floating gracefully give them shelter
Mums giving ground cover to the rolling banks with
Narcissus poking out between them while the
Orange hues of asters are a delightful background for
Peonies some tall most very short nestle beneath
Quince flowers, still their tight buds vie with 
Roses stately and wafting perfume clouds around 
Snapdragons closing their petals over insects
Tansy's rarely seen now a days, here do thrive and 
Uniformly line the garden paths whilst timid
Violets of deep purple shyly peek out and the
White tulips dance amid the rest under hedges of
Xylosma giving height and deep shade for plants
Zinnia's with rings of colour exploding

04/24/2014 by Shadow Hamilton

contest What's in your garden placed 1st

Premium Member October Kiss

October Kiss

Mother Nature’s Art Gallery Exhibit


Blue October skies, fall and autumn days

Gaze and jump into the maze of crescendo colours

Flickering in a blaze show of filigreed leaves,


 Mother Nature’s art gallery exhibit


Blends of orange, green, and red watercolor tapestries

of bedding plants, emerald green grass

Nature’s light guarded secret as we watch in wonder



Of cool nights, rainy, and sunny filled days

As whispering breeze kiss raises a gentle flight

Bringing  shedding leaves down onto the ground cover

10/1/2016
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Mother Nature's September Tapestry

September brings cheers, Mother Nature’s woven tapestry of earth tone colours   and first day of school of learning new things.   By_Poet

Warm, cornflower blue September skies, 
Chase away end of summer 
Escorting in the beginning of 
Unruffled, cool, wet, autumn 
Shortening the days. 

Days of exhausting work
From dusk until dawn 
Bring a successful abundant harvest 
As summer closes.

Touch of living gaze and jump into 
An intricate maze of crescendo color, 
Flickering in a tangled blaze 
Of whispering filigreed leaves. 
Mother Nature's natural unspoiled 
Watercolor weft tapestry. 

The air creeps along 
Filled with tickled laughter 
Bring shedding leaves down 
Onto the ground cover. 

Rainy, and sunny filled days 
Raise a gentle favouring breeze 
Journey under gray and orange skies.

Nature's essence, 
Of harmony and rhythm 
A soul of perfection beneath 
Shadowed shade and sigh 
The flow of rapture proceeds in joy. 

Children go back to school 
On the big yellow bus 
Driving the bus driver crazy.


8/29/2019

''T'' Contest, New Or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France

Original title: September
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Ground Cover

the white feather-puffs
scattered upon the jade-moss —
nude fowl’s pluckiness

11/4/2018

In My Little Garden

You'll probably find me in my little garden
With my big floppy straw hat upon my head,
And dirt on my hands digging in rich black soil.
I'm always fiddling with my garden beds,
Planting ground cover between the plants,
Blue little petals with heart-shaped leaves.
Some bloom early and some bloom late,
But the anticipation is worth the wait.

A gentle breeze like butterfly wings
Lifts sweet aromas from my blooms.
Honeysuckles, alyssums and gardenias,
Flowers of reddish pink, purple and white,
Stretch and yawn towards the sun.
A true show that spoils the eyes and heart.

Please come and sit a spell and we can chat,
And enjoy my little garden of zen.
Ice tea or peach schnapps, if you wish.



For Sandy's Ivy's contest, 'My Own Little Garden'

Premium Member The Check Is In the Mail

The Check is in the Mail
		                            Authored by Chuck Keys	

At the beginning there was no rain,
Only the thundering noise and bright bolts of lightning.
The trees and bushes trembled with the cold winds 
Pouring sheets of rain soon followed.
The stones and the ground cover cringed, 
Everything echoed and shook from the hard driving forces present.
There was no place to run or hide.  God
Was making his statement.
There will be no peace tonight,
Everything is in play.

Someone is in pain, searing aching ever increasing pain, 
Like the agony of a toothache, thumping, pulsing, thud, thud, thud 
Louder and more intense with each breadth 
The body and spirit is consumed, tightly wrapped up, 
Absorbed in the discomfort of now.
And it's not going away on its own.
There will be no peace tonight,
Everything is in play.

He was stolen, placed in chains,
400 years ago, 
Brow beaten from the beginning, in and out 
Never allowed to be his own, 
Not like whites, he was property, owned and operated 
But different non-white, (why are we still talking of color?) 
Yet beings we all are.
There will be no peace tonight,
Everything is in play.

We cry for what was taken but can never be returned 
Not wanting to be raised above or over, 
Wanting not a victory, but delivered equality.
Through love and nonviolence Martin and they forged ahead,
No more waiting for the check in the mail, 
But expecting the expected.
There will be no peace tonight,
Everything is in play.

The storm is here and now.  
A debt of honor is due, 
With the passing of time, where is restitution?
We accept love, education, pride and joy, 
We can't accept the hatred of crime, violence, 
The lack of housing and work, 
Pain never fades on its own.
It needs attention.
God’s values our values,
The one constant, never becomes vague.
Without compromise. Without compromise.
There will be no peace tonight,
Everything is in play.

The storm continues with its blinding rage, 
Waiting for an answer, not patiently, but expectantly, 
There will be no peace tonight in their lives as in our hearts,
Everything is in play.
© Chuck Keys  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Out the Window

OUT THE WINDOW

October 1st – There’s a tall tree down the block has   
      gone all red at top
in this green, early autumn

It’s quite an unusual year,
With more rain than summer’s want to yield

There’s been no mid-July burning of lawns,
And the trees, bushes, ground cover gone wild

The whole has tried to produce an out-of-door pinch,
And I often stand looking out a window,
Absently inhaling the chlorophyll

Houses on either side are vacant – the economy to
      blame – nor cat, nor dog reside,
But I image some ghostly pair seated on the steps,
      pets at their side 
    
I put all this down as a, sort of, flowing jet 
      companion to solitude,
And I – prisoner of the mind – watch black words 
      take form, 
Knowing there’s a whole, beautiful world with 
      nature’s abundant warmth out there
Just waiting to be joined by needful company

Dave Austin

Premium Member Seasons' March

I greet the morning with anticipation, bubbles 
of excitement inside, straining forward to walk 
outside and stroll among the flowers my hands 
have planted and cared for over the past years, 
the weigela from our youngest daughter, tomato 
plants from her daughter, the dill we placed nearby
to warn off bugs, the orange rose bush from Aunt
Juanita, as happy in my yard as hers, my mother’s 
petunias, flowering almond, and variegated sedum, 
four Alberta spruce, grown several times their size 
as when my brother gave them to me, prior to his
quiet acceptance of death after he lost the battle 
with brain tumor. A hibiscus bush, with its dinner-
plate-size blooms, the longed-for weeping willow, 
living strong where two others before had perished, 
a pink, wild-rose ground cover, spreading more each 
summer,  the crape myrtle my husband hauled in from 
another state, azalea bushes thriving after many false 
starts, spring clematis in deep burgundy, and another 
September one of miniature white stars, framing the 
arch given to me by our only son-in-law on Mother’s 
day, the red rose climber from our eldest son, mums 
everywhere, joining the celebration of season’s end,
as I now contemplate the closeness and inevitability 
of my own.
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Old Tree

OLD TREE

Tell of this marvelous acre
The which surrounded by neighborhood
Where stands the giant old tree
No living soul can remember a time of sprouting
The time long before neighborhood

For all anyone knows the old tree has always 
      been there
Center of the mystic plot
And the ground cover renews year by year
In a green emerald density
Here reside the burrowers, climbers, flyers, Chance residents of nature’s renewal
Year after year those hungry come and go
Come and go

Now witness this confrontation –
One fine black cat
Eyes ablaze, quietly watching
And a ground squirrel
Peering down from half way up the old tree 
      Trunk

Chattering about who knows what,
But cock sure the old tree is quite eternal,
      will always aid escape
Three black crows at tree top taunt, screech  
      down
The drama plays out daily,
Has done so for countless ages

Then, in some celestial silence
Should old sky reaching giant speak
It would say,
“I am here”

Dave Austin

Oh, God Expand My Narrow, Cluttered Room Rewritten

Oh God, expand my narrow, cluttered, room!
And clear the clutter out, so I may see!
And still my Seas, as You did, Galilee!
Life threatens to collapse in, with a Boom!

Like Aspen, that arise after a fire,
Or ground-cover that sprouts from ash and dust
Or sweet alyssum permeates the must
About the room, through window of desire,

So, pray I, browse the pages of my mind,
And grope for answers to luck, fate and hope
And grub for words, and wish I were A. Pope...
There is a solace, that I sometimes find

That tells me, Love is easier than this
O!  HOW can Love be EASY, when it spurs?
O!  How an outside dog be free from burrs?
And yet, I know it's true!  How soft the kiss

My Love gave me, that made me blow the motes
Away, swing wide the sash, let in the day...
Away!  With all the piles that naysay!
And sheaves of papers bearing scribbled notes!

...Some say Tolkien, himself, could not sort well,
He lost some of the Ring in managing...
He buried his notes, his housekeeper did fling
Some part of Frodo's past?  (I'll never tell!)
________

UPDATED/FIXED/REWRITTEN IN A FIT OF DESPERATION  2/22/2019

Submitted for: Enclosed Rhyme Poetry Contest

Sponsored by:  Emile Pinet

Premium Member Haiku Harvest

HAIKU HARVEST

picnic table bare
ground cover heavy with leaves
a flash of jay blue

leaves turned brown
heaven of twigs
sassy squirrel digging

house eaves in shadow
blue sky poking through
sparrows all puffed up

late november
cardinal
    like bloody spot

post halloween
scarecrow in tatters
candy wrappers

Premium Member September

Warm, cornflower blue September skies, 
Chase away end of summer 
Escorting in the beginning of 
Unruffled, cool, wet, autumn 
Shortening the days. 

Days of exhausting work
From dusk until dawn 
Bring a successful abundant harvest 
As summer closes.

Touch of living gaze and jump into 
An intricate maze of crescendo color, 
Flickering in a tangled blaze 
Of whispering filigreed leaves. 
Mother Nature's natural unspoiled 
Watercolor weft tapestry. 

The air creeps along 
Filled with tickled laughter 
Bring shedding leaves down 
Onto the ground cover. 

Rainy, and sunny filled days 
Raise a gentle favouring breeze 
Journey under gray and orange skies.

Nature's essence, 
Of harmony and rhythm 
A soul of perfection beneath 
Shadowed shade and sigh 
The flow of rapture proceeds in joy. 

Children go back to school 
On the big yellow bus 
Driving the bus driver crazy.


8/29/2019
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Ducks

DUCKS

Was it some sort of omen?
A northern albino cortege of two?

Two big white ducks
       (understand these were not geese)
Two BIG    WHITE    DUCKS     showed up in our
    backyard just yesterday
I’ve never seen their likes before
Nor even at a zoo
One follows the other at a consistently exact interval,
Whether picking at remains of bird bread on the picnic
    table    or waddling around through our backyard’s
    ground cover
They might have been foraging for something    
    but not necessarily food

The closest water – a river – is over a mile away
A lake?
A lake – let’s say five miles

Someone’s pets come to mind
Pet?
Not in this low-income neighborhood

No
I think they were an omen
A message sent by God Boreas
“Prepare!
The winter will be long and hard”

Premium Member Sea of Chaos

Sea of Chaos

Salt the fish
Salt the sea
Sea pea green
Sea like moss
Moss takes over
Moss ground cover
Cover your butt
Cover mine
Mine big diamonds
Mine huge hearts
Hearts of passion
Hearts on fire
Fire the boss
Fire up taters
Taters with eyes
Taters and corn
Corn so sweet
Corn is yellow
Yellow hot sun
Yellow is fun
Fun is gentle
Fun is wild
Wild salmon
Wild wind
Wind whips
Wind torque
Torque of waves
Torque of dancers
Dancers on tows
Dancers thin legs
Legs of table
Legs of leisure
Leisure on Sunday
Leisure for rich
Rich in calories
Rich relative 
Relative humidity
Relative comfort
Comfort of company
Comfort of life
Life lived right
Life in pain
Pain of torrent
Pain from sharks
Shark fin soup
Sharks in chaos
Chaos of catch
Chaos is play
Play
Catch ~

8/9/2017

Premium Member My Backyard In Spring

MY BACKYARD IN SPRING

My backyard in spring
How the ground cover gradually fills in
How the pointillist buds    some popping    slowly line
    bare branches
Just this simple awakening suddenly freshens my entire frame
The white-painted houses    now color highlighted    thrust a stark
    memory of emptiness    quickly deleted   though    by a song
    then flap of friendly wings
And the sky in early spring – how so much more bright and blue
Oh    I need to walk out on this
This dewy wonderfulness
Need to plant bare feet
Feel the thankful soil between my toes
Need to lift my chin on high
Eager to be blinded by a liberated sun

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