Best Jacarandas Poems

White and red and pink
oleanders bloom--
they are blown in wind,
littering grass and
drying on the bricks
of my front patio.
Orchid trees are flowering,
and royal poncianas.
Surprising jacarandas stun;
orange blossoms, honeysuckle, 
jasmine, and acacia assail the senses,
while I, alive, enjoy
yet another
Spring!...

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Melissa Lont

1825 - 1911

How does one as low and humble as I
Sum up my life of 86 years
In a mere poem as brief and short-lived
As life itself?
And what is the secret to my long life?
What do I know that you, my friend,
Would like to know
About...

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Each year in May, as Jacarandas bloom,
A  carpet of sky is strewn across the grass.
Mother Nature  wears her  delft costume,
With  a breezy sweet perfume  none  can  surpass.
And we beneath these blossomed boughs assume,
true love  upon a bed...

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City of Trees 

1
Johannesburg, home to ten million trees,
It’s the world’s largest urban arboretum.
Streets in summer lie beneath green canopies.

2
From sidewalks their branches meet with ease
And soon, very soon, each street’s a shady sanctum.
Johannesburg, home to ten million trees.

3
If only we humans could jump up...

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Seeing the spring flowers
with colors so intense and alive,
makes me praise their Creator even more;
amazed and breathless,
unable to find any imperfection
in all that lies under the infinite sky!
By the winding path, under a fluttering willow tree,
I sit down and begin my contemplation...
by admiring a beauty...

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You were not present.
Far from the pallid sky- 
in the graveyard, 
the marbled tears 
had become the eyes.

The meanness of the grill.
It will not fix the sun.
I stand by a river,
which was very thirsty-	
very deep.

The silent flight of a 
white falcon takes a dive- 
for...

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She dreamt in smoky salmon clouds of dawn,
forsaking violets of bitter truth,
that he had stayed and not to heaven gone
still in the cherry blossom of his youth,

that umber hair and eyes he still possessed
and held her gently in his solemn gaze
whilst with his mustached lips...

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The lithe traipse of night wind
tingles in my ear with faint secrets
chiming through jacarandas
and June's lavender-strewn grass.
I stand before the fatal moon,
his ivory blood trail lilting on the lake.

We'll both be gone by morning,
he to his desolate canyons
and I to my lonely bed
where I'll awaken...

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I Remember You

Yes, I remember you,
the dark-skinned girl,
dressed in tight corduroy, 
unzipped on the floor there.
You were my lover that night in 1970; 
We were wrestling 
so smoothly, so passionately,
in the old brick house on Hoover street.
Remember honey? Just you and me 
alone in the...

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Last Night

Look up there.
Do you see the seven sisters?
The night is unusually warm.
I hear speeding cars going down Broadway.
The freight train is screeching across Canobie.
Purple-blooming jacarandas cry petals of rejection.
You sat on the curb and told me it was over.
Told me you were now seeing...

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I once read a poem. It’s style was different than mine.  Then I thought.  Won’t it be nice to write about jacarandas & marigolds.  Spices and all that taste nice.  I reasoned.  Won’t my readers love occasionally.   To...

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Trading the sweetness, a rainbow
on icefalls, you will come back on rocks
and drink the elixir of death.
A fantastic dream of soap bubbles in a tumbler,
ejecting the inky grief on the transparent glass.
The pink goddess of wealth
will descend again in your bowls. Brassica
will decide the future...

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Trading the sweetness, a rainbow
on icefalls, you will come back on rocks
and drink the elixir of death.
A fantastic dream of soap bubbles in a tumbler,
ejecting the inky grief on the transparent glass.
The pink goddess of wealth
will descend again in your bowls. Brassica
will decide the future...

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Cellphone monologue

I’ve been driving, you know the road is no highway,
how taxing, skirting potholes, cajoling the new jalopy
will be there for a candle lit supper, come what may.
Out of the glare, jacarandas form a fragrant canopy
into the glow of passion driving down Love Boulevard
Oh my,...

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In the valley of blasts
a row of jacarandas
tall, sweet smelling,

shed blue petals endlessly.
A colossus spread
on wounds of earth.

A small girl with pellets
in her belly
was searching her wounded mother.

Essense of sorrow
helps to find myself,
in defense of freedom.

In the city of death
an unbeliever like me
wants to find...

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