Best Heather Poems
So still and beautiful lays the rose in the heather,
Lifeless and dying, given to bring you happiness,
So fragile is this rose laying in heather,
Slowly withering and drying, crumbling to a powder,
I look at you and see this rose ever fading,
Once growing, living, accenting its surroundings,
But now gone, plucked from the bush by one mans lust,
I could never compare you to this rose laying in the heather,
For your beauty surpasses its own,
So still and beautiful lays this rose in the heather,
Now dried cracking and dead, stored in a book to bring memories,
So weak and faded is this rose in yellowing heather,
Slowly falling apart as you touch the fragile petals,
I look at you and remember the flower when it faded,
That germinated and grew where I had sown its seed,
Now gone, plucked from the ground by one mans hope,
I would never compare you to this old heather and roses,
For its life was surpassed by yours,
Now I tell you I love you with cellophaned roses in heather,
Draining lifeless this dying confession of my dreaming,
This rose is more fragile then the first had I gave you,
But I could’t approach, my courage eroding at your sight,
I look at you now and see the love I sought inward,
Once alive and growing but only within lost confines of myself,
But never quite gone I hold this consuming fire close inside,
I could never combine your world with mine,
You always looked passed never noticing me,
Now I open my book that holds the first rose, wishing I gave it for the sake of
chance,
Instead I hold a created memory that never came passing,
That never could I fear,
I hold tight to the lie that through wonted silence I painted,
But that chance for your love died with the first rose wrapped in heather.
Sunlit days I spent on the moor
Sweet Summer heather scents allure
Bathing in waves on Dublin's shore
Aye, Irish lore Aye, Irish lore
Crumbling castles on exhibit
Pricey ticket; warm day visit
Guinness stout without a limit
Tastes exquisite Tastes exquisite
Stung by wild bees in clover leaves
Winded, needed the help of sheaves
Love for Ireland my heart now weaves
And soon it grieves And soon it grieves
Time has come for vacation's end
And Summer's days with Autumn's blend
When I close my eyes and pretend
In dreams I wend In dreams I wend
"Heather"
such a tumultuous quiet discourse
crochet hooked and thinking on wheels,
the wrong turns, sometimes thoughts move
to the recalcitrant one, another tumultuous heart,
mixed feelings like heavy storm clouds move
towards the vociferous missing one,
who looks on from that place in the gut,
intuition, the compass and metronome set,
viewed in the mind's eye, amygdala, from afar
and considers messages passed on
by a lost child, the keeper of a secret to be kept,
the child immovable, concerned for all,
the quiet closed mindedness of it all, hooking loops,
like a missed stitch in time, how one could have assisted,
yet became a back turned, calling in others to turn,
a lost chapter, a forgone conclusion,
the terrible failure of it all
the one writing thinks
of the royal colour, Purple,
and remembers the sister of Heather
laid out like a pale Rose in a silent garden,
risen the Rose remains standing by All, steadfast unseen,
perplexed, yet somehow understanding, watching over,
both stubborn purple bruised stories unfurl
Love arrives on the wings of angels
visiting the obdurate in dreams,
who stay close always though worlds apart,
the ghost remains, day by day
walking next to wheels that turn
of the one seated like a Queen unable to walk,
bloody minded unable to talk, crochet hooked
shifting gears automatic, the ghost guiding
quite hauntingly strange quills like keys far away,
that move hands of time to leave abstract messages on a wall
like music notes scored to be understood and conveyed
LOVE,
despite it all,
moves mountains
covered in Heather
the Royal colour
purple
the envelope opened,
the message relayed,
before a forest
a waiting Rose
and the mind
of a girl
new chapters
new worlds
meet in dreams
far away
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
hmm (forrest); and
ljb, llb
“I am permitted to travel in the corridor between sky and heather"
empathy.
blueberry bushes
autumn heather fields branches
- precious jewelry
22.08.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The sweet girl’s name is Heather
Wispy…light as a feather
She read my first rhyme
She thought it sublime
Her words bring sunny weather
Straight off she made me a fav
My little heart she did save
She liked what she read
My starved heart she fed
A boost to my soul she gave
Oh Heather, this one's for you
You're a sweetheart through and through
You’re eyes sparkle bright
You light up this site
You’re a dear friend tried and true!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Some time ago, I was going through my first poems trying to find something out when I came upon this post from Heather on my very first poem published here, Dying Young:
"Oh, wow, Eileen... This is heartbreaking. I've had thoughts like these before. I am adding this to my faves - and I'm adding you to my fave poets list! You are awesome!"
Today I was reminded of it, and I just want to thank Heather personally for being so kind to a new poetess! How absolutely sweet. :) She is adorable, yes? And with one accord they all gave a resounding...."YES!"
Away in the Heather
The hillside adorns
A day of bright weather
No thistles or thorns
The meadowlark's singing
The willows are dancing
The bluebells are ringing
The bees are romancing
Soft lavender breezes
So gently it hovers
And wantonly teases
A respite for lovers
Heather in a garden
Or heather in a store
Flowers beg a pardon,
Lovely forever more.
Vines climb up a wall,
Effortlessly tall
Vines climb up a gate,
Chopping is their fate.
Flowers and vines,
‘til the end of times.
Together forever
Trumpets and heather.
Heather. Lucky heather .
I can still hear her Irish tone
Heather, Lucky heather
This beautiful gypsy stood alone .
Her raven hair cascading
like a midnight waterfall
Heather, Lucky heather
In the market place she calls .
Her emerald eyes smiling
As I stop so I might buy
Heather, Lucky heather
Once again I hear her cry .
She giggles at my teasing
When I purchase her lucky charm
Heather , Lucky heather
Please let this beautiful gypsy take my arm.
I took her home to meet my parents
I heard the warnings that they gave
A Romany is a Romany
From the cradle to the grave
One day she'll up and leave you
Heading for another town
Heather , Lucky heather
Help my gypsy to settle down .
Ten years we were together
Ten years i'll never forget
My beautiful Irish gypsy
I'm so happy that we met .
Then she heard her people calling
From across the Irish sea
Heather , Lucky heather
Help me to set her free .
I have loved her for so long
Now it is time for us to part
She is leaving with the key
That will always unlock my heart.
I know we'll meet again some day
She is part of my destiny
Heather , Lucky heather
Watch over her for me .
Let her know how much I love her
Whisper to her every day
Tell me if she should need me
and i'll soon be on my way
Let her slow dance with her new lover
In the most beautiful moonlight
Heather . Lucky heather
Let her walk in gods sweet light.
broad blue horizons -
wet toes curl in soft sand dunes
soaking in sunshine
*Changed 'fat' for 'broad' on 17/04/2013.
YOUR WALMART GIRL
----verse 1
Sometimes some things just happen.
Sometimes we need a touch to help us get by.
When it's not there we wonder why.
I know your hand is lonely.
It's in your touch I see it there in your eye.
All I can do is wonder why.
------chorus
Why can't we get together?
I don't know.
How did you touch me? I don't know.
If I could reach your mind Maybe we could find it.
But I don't know.
I'm just your Walmart girl.
----verse 2
Smiling is tired and lonely.
There's no tomorrow when there's only today.
It's just a way to get us by.
Scanning goes by so quickly
While I search for words to ask how you have been.
Then it's too late -- you're gone again.
-----chorus
Why can't we get together?
I don't know.
How did you touch me? I don't know.
If I could reach your mind Maybe we could find it.
But I don't know.
I'm just your Walmart girl.
I'm just your Walmart girl.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
A shepherdess, I’ll call her Heather
Loved coitus when dressed in black leather
High up in the hills
She’s getting her thrills
And getting wet in the wild weather
The farmer, his first name is Jock
Was willing to get out his cock
To have lots of nookie
Whilst her sheepdog, Rookie
Saw little lambs running amok!
You can't fool a dancer,
hard reverb coming at you like Prancer-
welcome-wagon interstellar like Lancer-
holy demon!
When did my steam stop?
Holly weedin'!
Where did you chop chop?
Heeeeeeeeeeeey! ! ! !
Welcome here...
Its home in the winter.
Heeeeeeeeeeeey! ! ! !
Dear Splinter,
it's a creep in the depths of the beat,
it's the 'I won'ts' in the Orgasms and weeps,
the liver turns into seed,
never forgets to breathe,
because the end will set us all free! ! !
Welcome here,
I have a reason to sound clear,
so don't drop out justifyin' why you're not-
flappin- flippin- rectifyin,'
or wearing any gear...
Heather bids to whither in winter with a sinner!
Dharma- bammered- donner's party at dinner!
Don-wan gets undertaken by the cowards of the crewman,
that's what happens off stage at an out-land!
Astounding as the crowd that attracts,
jumpin' jimmy's all around the facts,
people clambering over outdated nick-nacks,
elders not retiring because they know they put evil back,
William wondered of war over sea's with the remorse,
Donna sang to the serious on stage with the poor,
verdict was made to off set the players inundating us with words,
technology crashed the earth and left the economy for the birds.
Fiona, fair beauty, fleet footed and fancy free,
Flits over the field,
Full of life and fun, a joy to see.
She’s my Bonnie canine, sweet and good,
Loving and loyal, a regal golden,
Her tail held high, 'til coursing the woods.
Wild is my Heather as her namesake flower on the hill,
Pursuing bunnies, squirrels and birds,
Though only for the chase’s thrill.
Nairne, in Gaelic means “dweller by the narrow river glen,”
Which is she, when resting from her adventures now and then.
Oh, Fi, my darling girl,
How you’ve blessed my life and set it in a whirl!
MRT/4-27-10
Oh say! Under a mischievous sky
A minstrel came singing and seeing me cry
" what are you facing?" Upon seeing me vexed
My soul is afflicted and deeply perplexed
I am charged with writing but cannot lie
Both my words are quitting and my pen is dry
He spoke to my pen, he spoke to my hand
Slowly and gently started to understand
Flashed in black sunlight comes the bird of the sun
Flowers of heaven all birds must be
Lost is her jailor, lost is the key
Standing there naked shedding her cloak
Unashamed her beauty is free-
For eons did man lust after liberty
In swaddling cloth soaked, the blood of the free
Untainted by rumour at half a century
Now painted in colours of contorted nebulae
Explosion of gasses in a smoky melee
Came swirling around and still I stand charged-
Just a moment ago , standing there mesmerized
Of the grandeur of you in the fluid of my sight
This bird must take flight, this truth I must write
Over these hills and meandering river-
Until she finds you, this is for Heather
Where The Heather Grows
How grows the heather in the moor
Does it still bloom as days of yore
When bated breath transfixed the lore
Of pixies, love, and beer
Where grouse went courting in the loam
In heathered rocks...a purple home
Of safety and part metronome
As dogs and beaters near
To hunt a brace of grouse...or two
Or coax a pixie into view
Or drink some heather beer...fresh brew
And walk beyond all blear
I long to see those purpled frills
Of Scotland's heathered moorland hills
To breathe that fragrant wind that chills...
Oh! Heart hold back your tear.
2.25.2017©deborah burch
16lines
8886 syllables
aaaB cccB dddB eeeB rhyme