Best Juniper Poems
k i n d n e s s
is the petrichor perfume
enveloping the sky,
between~
you and I
as clouds splatter juniper sprinkles,
coalescing stubborn storms,
rinsing away stained foams
with raining roses,
serenading hymns of heaven,
calming the internal conflicts
like soft rays of morning stars…
Tonight, I follow the distant sirens,
echoing sagas of the soothing sun,
seeking c o m f o r t
through soft feathers,
unfurling love laced in lilac
and lavender,
while candles and crystals
radiate radiant rubies,
elevating elegance,
enhancing z e s t.
For in the corners of my heart~
thrive twinkling tendrils
of tulip twilight,
wishing upon swirling sparks
of firefly wings;
'let this world be a diamond haven,
where compassion is the dialect
that eases thunder-struck seas..'
So remember…
I’ll be there when curtains close.
Listen to the breeze
carrying my prose,
written with timeless glitters.
Tell me that I am the name,
the crooning tern that glides above
resilient ripples’ whispers.
Tell me that the mauve moon
veiled in mellow mists
reminds you of me…
as I still weave k i n d n e s s
in kaleidoscopic ink,
to erase the darkness
that f a l l s upon your silken silhouette.
J=Juniper berry oil for hair,
U=Urinary health wellness care.
N=Natural detoxifier if I dare,
I=Improving circulation with a prayer.
P=Promoting healthy aging is what I need,
E=Evergreen small shrub I will plant and feed.
R=Reducing skin irritation so I do not bleed.
time stirs incensed sparks
a moon of juniper dreams
amidst this wild heart
aching to be cloaked in pine ~
sweet love … brushed in warm lilac
Although I hardly gave it a thought
I didn't really doubt
our miniature juniper, a bonsai,
would survive our desert vacation.
It likes the dry
air of our home, needs water
once a week at most and seems
meditative and active, both. While away
I rediscovered my love of agaves -
sotol and century
plant - met Mortonia and became
reacquainted with squawbush, its citrus
drupe which makes traveling the long horizon
of the desert uplands endurable.
Live oaks - emory,
wavyleaf - dominant and regally spaced
giving ground to mesquite only on the sere
sand flats. I counted and drew inflorescenses,
spikelets, florets, awns but grasses
remain a mystery
their microscopic parts. This year
I'll study, give them serious thought before
our Spring starts. The cactus wren was the one
bird I could be certain about. Sunsets
made me sorry
the desert is not my home. But the ocotilloes
flowered before we left and that made up
for the vicious attack of a hedgehog cactus.
Impressive, ponderosa pine and Arizona cypress
the canyon canopy
watered with snowmelt and along the high cliffs
limestone formations predating our arrival by
ten million years of weather. Newspapers
kept us aware humanity had not accomplished yet
the end of history
and that was fair. The planes were full of citizens
who no longer applaud upon landing. Snow flew,
not a pinyon pine or manzanita within two moons
walking. On the dining room sideboard, waiting,
our miniature juniper.
Like a gnarled old elder it stands ancient
twisted scarred limbs like a scene in a horror
hacked and torn against time,
beetle holes and wood pecker assaults
not withstanding, growing and thriving like time
The outlier cousine, a younger branch
stands tall and seemly a lithe woman
an odd pair, living like old neighbors
digging roots into sandy and rocky soil;
daring all to move them out, we've been here
Sentient, I wonder betimes, snaking arms akimbo
a stalwart grapevine too big for it's britches
Tough as an old crow, I'd say...
a thousand year old crow that is,
no sweet tender fruit hanging about, no sirree...
A bit of sun showing 'tween long needles
throwing such shade as a sheer negligee
peckers drawing clear blood sap,
she's scarred too, these small holes dripping life
a small nest teeters on high branch in the wind
He looks far east, a nod to the elders
he knows his worth, a dance to the living
though crippling and splitting since birth
I'd rather sit by him in strength of his shade
smelling the sweet perfume of his lady friend
writing a few words on the character of age
bbmac53
"Call me June."
Her voice is like fragile glass
Hand outstretched, fiery smile
Ivory skin smoother than a waveless sea
Her infinite charm is all I could see.
"June May,"
I laughed, she shifted
Close to me, skin to skin
Her ebony hair sprawled on silk bed
Always had that faint lavender smell.
"Yellow Roses."
Her favourite, she said
I could give her a dozen, bid my farewell
But I knew I couldn't, shouldn't
And she knew it as well.
"It's okay,"
I whispered as she cried
Mascara tainted her porcelain face
Clock struck six, time for me to go
She sighed, her husband would soon be home.
"My daughter's five,"
She replied, though I hadn't asked
Her eyes, rocky hue of experience and emotions
Have seen twenty-nine summers pass by
While I have seen only twenty-five.
"I'm fine,"
Her voice cracked, just like fragile glass
Bloodshot eyes, trembling hands told otherwise
Soaked in guilt, drowning in lies
Slipping away, she tries to stay alive.
"I'm here, June."
Dressed in all black, she in white
I give her a rose, Red, Yellow was not a choice
Strange. I saw, only a single rose, mine alone, lay
Weeping quietly, on the lonely grave of Juniper May.
I am a most chaste being made of beauty
I thrive on chastity
I am fragility
I only do require of you to treat me fairly
I live in the garden of Eden
I live and blossom for a time so eternal
I am as pretty as a fairy maiden
Made of the most magical colors, made with a unique petal
I am as eternal as the Great Lord Himself
He does keep me close by His side
As if I were His consort, His pride
My blossomed flowers, live forever, imbibed with such strength
I do feel repugnant at the sight of lust
Why, love only does be a must
Love, pure and true, love, made of purity
Love for the Great Lord, being the reason why I do keep my chastity!
Juniper : Chastity, Eternity
Upon a barren desert you stand
Sweet Juniper wooded and tall,
All that you seek is a little space
Under the blue heavens to sprawl.
Does your forlorn wait over eons
Beget sacred blessings for you?
Or is it disguised meditation
Of which mortals have not a clue?
Do you wait for a beloved dear
Who has abandoned thee and gone?
Or is it some strange mystical ploy
Not some game to be lost or won?
Yet there is something about your wait
Bearing lessons one needs to learn,
Great patience that refuses to ebb
A will-power which is so stern.
You endure the mountain storm and wind
And you endure the freezing rain,
Sweating under a sweltering sun
Of your hurt you never complain.
I wonder if you try embracing
Nomadic clouds that saunter by,
For I know your heart is lonely too
Cause there is none to hear you sigh.
You are a sacrament of the God's
Heavens poem upon the earth,
Revered footsteps of divinity
Beyond fabled treasures of worth.
***********
In younger days, she ruled the stage,
Thrilling hearts of fans of every age.
Every living creature knew her name;
And the trees still whisper of her fame!
Her beauty was like the noonday rose,
Gripping, and then sweet memory as it goes.
Now retired to quiet life in the country,
To birdsong and a charmed visitor, maybe.
Redbirds bluebirds, blackbirds and robins,
Frequent her sunflowers and all their kin.
She has no desire to recreate the past,
For like a red diamond, it was made to last!
The spell once cast shall always linger,
As the beloved ring on her widowed finger.
Under the spotlight of the evening moon,
She gathers sweet-smelling roses of June;
Then nature is spellbound in total stillness,
As if expecting another drama to witness!
There's occasionally a party on Juniper Lane;
The princess she was is the queen she became!
Juniper June
You know, your berries are showing
Juniper you might not see what everyone else seems to know
here
Let me help you out June
Man July came to soon
You were beautiful June
juniper berry
spirited gentian blue seed ~
purple finch flickers
Juniper Purple
fabulous Kind,
Beautiful, blue, existing
Feelings such of happiness
Blossoming
Flowers
Fragrant, amazing smells
Maturing, flourishing, showing
purple so blushing
Flush
3334/6/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
oh juniper tree
high five to thy lively gin
that drives us to jibe
a jitterbug jig and jive
that we all get berried in
Upon birth, Juniper loved her name; no one else had it.
But then others heard it.
Now there are sixteen Junipers in the same class - her class.
The teacher wants to number them.
Juniper one, Juniper two, Juniper three.
The parents sign a petition they do not want their children numbered.
They should have thought of that before they stole Juniper’s middle name too.
I first met you, heard you on a beach in Cornwall, Jennifer;
I fourteen, you, a soft, mellow chanted, sybaritic siren.
Still, the Hurdy Gurdy man stopped, looked across, smiled at this boy.