Best Herbaceous Poems

You probably don't think much of me
save for the season of spring
when your lawn litters itself
with giant over-buttered popcorn

(birds that think they can sing,
supersonic sneezes?
those...

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ROSES ARE RED

The flower’s crimson cerise hue
creates the petal’s grand debut
of love and memories to recall
my florid sanguine gift of all

VIOLETS ARE BLUE

Azalea breath with...

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The old man was no longer a hunter,
But he would not stoop to women’s chores.

A storm was brewing as he sought
Shelter in a round cave.
Soon...

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~~

In an old fashioned garden behind a stone wall
Hollyhocks and sunflowers growing so tall
Red rambling roses drape over a fence
Old fashioned flowers with colours intense.

Lupins...

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ROSES ARE RED

ROSES ARE RED
The flower’s crimson cerise hue
creates the petal’s grand debut
of love and memories to recall
my florid sanquine gift of all

VIOLETS ARE BLUE
Alzea...

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Once upon a time, not so long ago.
If only you knew, my spirit reflected
The greenery of nature and It's cooling
On that balmy day. You carefully...

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Mother nature oh! Rose of roses!
Mother of all flowers' and smell,
Ylang Ylang! You don't know what it causes!
An aphrodisiac turns you on like hell!

Sandalwood with...

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With these lines I’ll relate an intriguing tale of dubious accuracy
For I Hope to unveil sordid affairs of more than one conspiracy!
Be warned, that though...

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Looking out upon my garden on spring morning 
dew on grass, new shoots appearing natures best 
daffodils, tulips, primrose, beautiful new life dawning 
pollinators emerge...

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Imperfect world, purposeless person.
I retired to pursue perfection
learn jazz tunes, woody and herbaceous plants,
read every inch of English literature,

Scientific American and Foreign Affairs,
have an affair...

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Colourful garden
Herbaceous border delights
Flowers ripple, breeze
Fluttering beautiful flash
Settled on Buddleia.

Soft gentle rainfall
Shelter taken under leaf
Out of human sight
Herbaceous perfume pervades
Solitary walk....

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Not like a figwort but not an aster, either. Could he be a buttercup
with sepals, no petals, but sepals like petals? Alan is a bluebeech,
an...

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An herbaceous arbor
flanks the harbor
where he labors
fitting words to spaces -- 
blanks he fills, erases.

He savors bits of meaning, 
sculpting sound to logic's shape, 
annealing...

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agonizingly dutifully didst wait
to distract anticipatory anxiety,
(analogous to an expectant father)
while protracted procedure promised
nothing short of a millennium

whereby echoing thru the corridors of time
olly olly...

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This poetic blurb not meant to annoy
divulging, when just a whippersnapper boy
me late mum and octogenarian pop agreed 
   without questioning why doctor...

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