Best Horticultural Poems
Spring Flowers
Opal open clouds let raindrops freely fall
Coaxing coy blossoms of spring to bloom.
Fragrant sweet scents permeate the air.
Snow drops begin the parade as they appear.
It is believed that snow drops originated
When an angel breathed upon a snowflake.
The pansy’s bright *French face in viola shades
Were known to represent a lover’s pursuit
And remembrance of his loyalty and love.
Scilla Siberica with their nodding blue-bell like
Flowers feature a Royal Horticultural status.
Their faint fragrance and hues mesmerize.
Let’s not forget the flowering trees swaying in
Spring’s bucolic breeze where cherry blossoms
Seize our eyes in pink or white with such delight.
Song birds sing their sonorous songs with joy
As snow melts into rivers flow and waves goodbye.
New birth, harbinger of hope arrives in spring.
3-12-22
Spring Showers or Spring Flowers Poetry Premiere Contest~Nineth Place~
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
*The word, pansy is derived from French
language and means ‘thought’.
My thanks to Wikipedia for the photo:
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/38/Scilla_carpet_Alnwick_gardens.jpg
The blackberry's love for the garden rose
Brought down the gardener's wrath.
The blackberry sensed the danger
As he wended the garden path.
" A love so true as mine", he sighed,
"Must dare to brave the hoe.
Just a few more feet to reach her,
My true love she must know."
He crept along so quietly,
Sometimes quite out of sight
Until he nudged his darling's feet.
Did he dare to trust the light?
He heard the gardener's heavy boot
And hid in craven shame.
He knew he'd soon be weeded out,
A seedling with no name.
"Have I no worth since I don't rate
Some Latin nomenclature?
Without a well known parentage
Am I a freak of nature?
His darling's line was long and pure,
No skeletons in her past.
He had to make his feelings known.
Those boots were treading fast.
Gently then he wrapped his vine
Around his loved one's spine.
In great amazement he opined,
"Her thorns are sharp as mine".
The sweet rose felt his tender touch
And realized his fear
And wondered at his bravery
In coming to her here.
She heard the swishing of the hoe,
She heard those nearing feet.
Quietly letting down her leaves
In a manner so discreet
She covered her wild lover.
The gardener unaware,
Stopped but to view her beauty.
He saw naught hiding there.
She whispered, "You are safe now".
The blackberry's heart was light,
Thankful that his dear sweet rose
Had not exposed his plight.
"A rose is still a rose." she said,
"By any other name
And in our distant ancestry,
We share some of the same".
"I'd rather know your wild love,
Than a love that's dull and tame,"
Cuddling close, returned his kiss
Without a bit of shame.
Next season there were seedlings
Of a very different kind.
The gardener delighted, cried
"A horticultural find."
The moral of this story?
Things aren't always what they seem.
The love you look down on today,
Could be tomorrow's dream.
Creeping creepy creepers, the crawling trellis
jutting out of everywhere
snaking through country and metropolis
twisting turning in floral bliss
but more like snakes that hiss
But in quietude feign death for self-defense!
Weeping willows with an unreal surreal sorrow
weeping tears of dew onto the silted furrow.
Perhaps weeping for bretheren felled
in deforestations and land clearings in
my imaginations of the call to preservation.
Against ethnic cleansing of greenery for selfish building
As per man's construction for mere recreation
Velvety-green tear- stained faces or rather foliage
When dew is stuck on them as nature's trinkets of pearls.
And over there touch-me-nots swaying coyly
like prim and proper maidens
in the fantastic floral gardens.
And what in the world is this case?
Imitation flowery in place of imitation jewellery?
Yeah, thats poinsettia in a vase
Leaves in the disguise of flowers
Its actual flowers relegated to backstage.
And ethereal fairy-slippers await their never coming wearers
and Indian pipes to be admired by Red Indian sightseers.
Oh and here's another spectacle- but sniper tactics this time
Yikes! Let the naive insect world beware!
Whilst the bloodthirsty killers lie in ambush
Those camouflaged jungle guerrillas
or should we say the venus fly-traps!
Or a more harmless one yet mimicking the scary
A snap-dragon flora, its mouth opening and snapping shut.
Then watch that mega-sized jumbo giant flora
The world's largest flower
No stems, no leaves, plant-eater plant, rafflesia.
Is it too much for the faint-hearted ha ha.
And wow now watch that incredible costume, oh my!
A flower masked as some pesky fly!
None other than the remarkable fly orchid.
And yet another, the silent music of the fiddlenecks
Fiddles as if for the light-weight fairies.
And lastly not forgetting ofcourse
the sky-blue unforgettable forget-me-nots
A memorable bouquet but themselves devoid of memory.
Ah nature lover poets if you wish to view
more of flora in a fancy dress masquerade
Go ahead and flip through the pages of
a botanical, floral
horticultural
pictorial journal.
And see for yourself the fantastic flora's charade
or else imagine them dressed as a floral renegade!
November dreams of beauty of my garden in springtime,
planning horticultural fancies my garden has never grown.
Dreaming of it in November is easy part of gardening.
I’ve been privileged ‘cause I’ve seen
The paintings of Monet.
One museum near my house
Has many on display.
The gardens of Monet provided
So much inspiration,
His palette came from Nature
More than his imagination.
I never knew how true that was
Until I paid a visit
To Monet’s garden, re-created,
Looking most exquisite.
The experts horticultural
Of New York’s main Botanical
Did such a bang-up job I’m sure
Their research was fanatical.
The water lily ponds are filled
With plants as flat as platters
And such purple-petaled flowers
Standing next to them just flatters.
There’s a copy of the famous bridge
From Monet’s house in France
And surrounding it, a swirl of blooms
The colors of romance.
A vacation to Giverny
Isn’t something I have planned,
But the New York imitation
Made me start to understand
That the genius of Monet was more
Than paintings that enchanted;
For the magic he created
Was inspired by what he planted.
(written after visiting The New York Botanical Garden’s exhibit)
Heaven is located behind my front door
orchids of every colour adorn
my lounge; which is my horticultural haven
everywhere you look is blessed with their beauty
So many memories are behind these four
walls where my son spent his childhood days
Everywhere I look there are reminders of him;
even though he has flown the nest
this is always going to be his home
How time has passed so quickly
o ur lives certainly have changed
My home is our special sanctuary
Every day on earth that we remain
Contest: Home Sweet Home
Sponsor John Hamilton
02~02~16
I have just been confounded by nature on so many counts. I have been commenting on bumblebees not being seen in any quantity over most of the month, and today two species. Not abundant, but present, and pleasantly surprised I was. Another flying busybody not seen all summer, the common wasp, just the one, a welcomed visitor, a gardeners friend, many a plant it inadvertently defends in search of sustenance. Like insatiable caterpillars, and aphid or two, a job well done I’m telling you. A dragonfly, another hungry invertebrate diner. Then beautiful flitter, flutter, butterflies, green veined, large and small cabbage white, small tortoiseshell, speckled wood, the day for them very good. Hoverflies, or flower flies, depending on which side of the pond you're from, some beauts you will see, as you peruse my photography.
nature surprises
whatever time of year
unwrapped presents
Now for a blaze of colour, flowers, natures August glory. Indeed my horticultural favourites, what? Why did I not say passion? Well, you’ll see for indeed I had both the flower and the fruit, both preceded, yes, by how I feel passion. Beauty at my fingertips, a fuchsia, inverted, a view not often seen. So many colours, August has done itself proud, come visit if you crawl, fly, or slither, humans not allowed.
dusk… hark the frog croak
swallows fill the air
silent smooth newts
A myth and a fable can be found on a table. When an old man does look in an ancient book. Dragons and periodic charts do not mix. But historical inaccuracies a horse with wings can fix. Flee flee flee little mice. For that watering hole will attract bison. Heavy bodies and lots of hooves. Oh dear. It is never to be said that the honest truth of a pillar in a dome is slated with a burning bushel. But when a bushel of faith is carried by either a sea maiden or a voyaging spring queen the time for flutists,piccolo players and harpists is rife. And turbans link to dance and jump, headdresses and bangles leap in feathered and clawed unison (circling), moon painted bodies of the tribal ones wave spears, and all is a united effort. All is a unison. Globally positioned. But no monetary aim. So take a mixing bowl and create two hundred and eighty-nine deserts on ten minutes. Great. Kiss then. Good. *** horticultural horse hoeing horizontally and a big sneeze from a teacup. Fantastic so clap clap clap. Monetization Z
Beautiful blue buddleia
brimming with bejeweled butterflies
which flutter frequently from branch to branch
Fabulous freesias
sensationally scented
perfumed perfection
Ruby red rambling roses
dainty daffodils and jaunty jonquils
colourful crocus and charming celandines
blooms bring breathtaking beauty
glorifying Gertrude’s garden
horticultural heaven!
Flower or Flowers in Imagism Form - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
03/13/21
Below the stars and silver moon,
Abounds the coruscation of silhouetted curves.
Sinusoidal and voluptuous,
Seismic undulating and venereal.
Your mind synaptically aglow under the light,
Evokes ethereal perspicacity within my soul.
A torrent tsunami of desire thrusts my body.
Leaves me wanting to make love to you:
Make love to your mind,
Make love to your body,
Make love to your heart,
Make love to your soul.
All under the emanating fragrance of the horticultural moon.
If I a bare fisted foot that a layered leaf once left undisturbed but amongst the rising becomes a glow and fortress is a finger roll and rolling is a non adventurous activity in a nine metre road. But no roadworks. They are mainly dependent upon corrosive erosive sealant. And many a glance or glare from a twisted turtle head could almost be forgiven for a sub consciousness riot is often a forefront in a non moving pawn game. Stagnant are those who watch am eclipse upside down. I am a Heidelberg Heifetz herlump but maybe a justification of heuristic heiferlump. I am unsure as to which prison I am currently visiting but working us waiting and waiting is a turbulent torrent of a torrid display. Merely an astronaut could fly this path. Really? Really? An opulent society is a dug grave waiting. No ha to that. But a bursting angle is an angled angel angling. Ha to that. Now spin. Yes. Spin. Horticultural herrod bar. Hum...hmmm.
Origami gifts fledglings multiple
Stork sling incubates infant hatchery
Holds pine seed offspring horticultural
Burst dirt celebrates cedar jamboree
Invisible drive to thrive, hormonal
Reverse javelin sapling spear Jarvis
Pin bend Pilates practice jovial
Christmas bonus brings bountiful harvest
Silken sway, acres of muscular maize
Youthful juice under crisp skirt harem
Masters of last year crushed in hasty haze
Mulched during terrain turn over mayhem
Lake levitator long necked swan mascot
Lays Faberge eggs in reed bloom jackpot
16th November
Manyfest
Horticulture? truly awesome!
Granddaddy’s timeless illusion -
one giant synthetic blossom
swirling midst rustic seclusion.
Fascinated by back-crossing,
Pop experimented in silence.
Sleep was spent turning and tossing
weird ideas, odd incidents.
His gigantic bogus blossom
would emanate from these night-swings.
He had heard that you could cross some
old parent plants with their off-springs.
Such horticultural incest
troubled Pop’s moral conviction.
Botanic genes lost his interest,
guilt became an affliction.
He took up artistic venture
creating flowers of pottery.
The last one he made, the clencher,
shines in his orchard's rockery.
With Thanks they spoke of the endearing
and restorating power
of togetherness.
Even in doubt when people wish those chores and tasks done
they will unite
to see things done.
One fella told a story of birds: he said
that for a thosand years
seagulls floew from the west coast of a certain
conteint, to an underground cave in the desert.
They bought oysters and large clams
in stack them in the cavern.
Billions and Billions of seashells
stacked with perfection
miles and miles of shell beneath the surface.
He used this example to unite. He used this example
to draw the attention to the need.
Upon the fish of his speech
he said " with hope we unite that those things in Godspeed
will show a future the need for togetherness!"
She rooled the window down on one fridgit night.
And waved across the yard to her neighbor.
She tied the folds of the long
draping curtain, to drop the shade before she
sat for dinner.
Her neighbor feeling her attempt to be neighborly
came over. First she rapped upon the window and
walked around to the door. When the door opened
she was invited in to supper.
Don't mind me, not wishing the supper to be ruined,
take a go at the piano,Ranchalle has his trumpet
and Stoakie has his guitar,
their are enough voices here
to stirr-up some harmony or
a tune or something.
Those who envy us will wish there were here tonight!
Fred entered his shrubbery
in a horticultural society gardening contest
and wising to wager on the outcome
as to which bush was the best
bet his hedge to win
and yet at the time quite mature
Fred’s Famous Fertilizer Co., Ltd.
went badly belly up in manure
sadly out of business
broke bust bankrupt for ever
as altho' he had bushels of bags
he couldn't get his 'sh*t' together