Best Lupines Poems
Springtime rain brings fresh array
of flowers east to west.
The Rockies’ red and purple tufts
of mountain pride are best.
And mats of foliage named moss pink face south to get the sun
while buttercups put forth large blooms
so not to be outdone.
Then comes the rain to bleak terrain
where gloriously unfolds
alongside barren roads - in patches -
desert marigolds.
Mojave yucca, blue lupines,
and sego lily whites
with Indian prairie fire flowers
paint the deserts bright.
And common flowers of the fields
in every place abound.
Sweet Joe-Pye weed; Black-eyed Susan
push up from the ground.
The California poppy makes
a patchwork orange and blue
while dandelions most unloved
will countless seedlings spew.
In southern marshes blossom too
the water hyacinths,
making of the waterways
pesky labyrinths.
In northern streams grow pussy willows
naked with no petals,
and somewhere on a touch-me-not
a bumblebee now settles.
Blossoming in woodlands now
are flowers in the shade,
but most prefer the sunlight of
an open forest glade.
The wild columbine dressed blue
and handsome in the breeze,
fragrant like the violet,
gives nectar to the bees
All across the country
there awaken everywhere,
each in their appointed region,
wild flowers fair.
Daisies, clover, daffodils
and lovely Queen Anne’s lace.
They briefly stay, but we can see
more fully nature’s grace!
(now for PD's Contest on Best Flower Poem)
For Constance La France's mini-contest: Wild Flowers
Categories:
lupines, naturerain, blue, rain, daffodils,
Form:
Rhyme
She is learning young
Pure genteel pleasures of a garden
Amid the fragrant roses and towering lupines
Sweet feminine echo of her beautiful mother
She holds up her watering can
A tiny version of the other.
Now she mimics to perfection
The sprinkling of flowers
As she giggles with delight
At birds in secret bowers.
She can't wait for tomorrow
Her duties to employ
She is mother's little helper
And Daddy's little joy
Categories:
lupines, beauty, bird, daughter, garden,
Form:
Verse
The Empty Academy Schoolhouse
It stands on a vast green lot,
No trees to shelter it from heavy, gray clouds
on the rolling foothill horizon.
Its thin coat of white paint peels,
revealing bare, dry-rotted wood.
The rickety porch boards,
once sturdy under children’s energetic steps,
look about to collapse at the slightest wind gust.
What’s it like inside?
Puddles of water from the last rain?
Rat’s nest in the woodstove?
Any desks or yellowed books, pencils,
love notes left behind?
A soiled ribbon slid off some girl’s braid?
A chalkboard with spelling words
or arithmetic problems still on it?
What songs, prayers, or memorized poems
still echo off faded, white-washed walls?
When was the first day of school?
When was the last?
What became of all the children,
who once ran around laughing
all over this green meadow?
What happened to ball players,
clover-chain weavers,
kids who picked lupines and fiddlenecks
for their teacher?
Did they leave Academy,
or do they lie in the cemetery on a nearby hill?
Published in Song of the San Joaquin, Spring 2021 Issue
This old school house is in the tiny pioneer town of Academy, just outside of Fresno, California, near the Sierra Nevada foothills. Some of the descendants of the pioneer families still remain in the area.
Categories:
lupines, history, nostalgia, school,
Form:
Free verse
Have you ever, wandered into, a sequestered meadow
Surrounded by trees and mountains
Where the passerine song birds, sang songs with no words
Indian paintbrushes, rose up, like red fountains
The orange day lilies, and butterfly weeds
Danced, with the light purple asters
Bold black eyed susans and multicolored lupines
Provided scenes, like paintings, of old masters
Did you feel the cool breeze, that tickled the leaves
Of the poplars, birches and oaks
Put off by the snow caps, as they melt and collapse
Then ski down the shadowy slopes
Or happen to look, when the clear snow melt brook
Rushed by, to the lake of, serenity
Did you feel the love, of Mother Nature's hug
And the awesomeness of it's, sublimity
To put words to a feeling, when the senses are reeling
Can be a difficult thing
Meadows sleeping with mountains, flowery red fountains
With a breeze of tranquility
That's how I felt, when ice started to melt
Encasing my frozen heart
I'll never forget, when our paths first met
And you gave, my life, a jump start
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
Categories:
lupines, beauty, emotions, feelings, imagery,
Form:
Rhyme
Boundless Blue
Born in a misty rainbow,
Blue slips out from her place
between her sisters Green and Violet,
painting the heavens azure,
covering the earth like the robe of Virgin Mary.
She floats into the ocean in a navy dress,
then waltzes on waves of the Danube.
Sailing the teal waters of alpine lakes,
she journeys to glaciers,
leaving her daiquiri-colored footprints on glacial ice,
taking some with her to cool the fires of Robert Frost.
She treads into meadows and gardens,
planting delphiniums, lupines, hydrangeas,
bluebells, and cornflowers to sprout in her wake,
with morning glories to climb fences.
People copy her free spirit,
painting their china in Delft and willow patterns,
sing “Blue Suede Shoes,” “Blue Velvet,”
“Blue Moon,” “Blue Hawaii,”
even play “Rhapsody in Blue” on their pianos,
blow their cobalt glass, dye their denims,
even their ice cream and candy.
They try to capture her lapis, turquoise, and royal sapphires,
pressing them into frames of silver and gold,
hanging them on chains.
She smiles at their craftsmanship,
then saunters down the path to the forest,
seeming to sway to her own swingy music.
With only her blue tick hound trotting beside her,
she picks wild blueberries, savoring the tart fruit
as its indigo juice runs down her fingers.
This poem was inspired by Meenakshi Raina's "Optimistic Orange". That poem is a great example of how fun it is to write about and personify a color. I encourage the rest of you to try it!
Contest: All Yours (May 5)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
5-5-21
Categories:
lupines, beauty, blue, color, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
Written: December 1st, 2023
_______________________________________
Colors waltz in a rainbow kaleidoscope
cynosure of sun sparks steel drum teams
Emerald elms embrace periwinkle sky
among fragrant spikes of purple lupines.
Monet and Van Gogh are arm-in-arm
spin a diaphanous color wheel off charts
starry night, yellow circumduct swirls
over white water lilies on mirror ponds.
Consider both humanity and nature
emollient color splits and multiplies
A flamenco actor will kick and clap
Hot crimson ethereal feeling whirling flies.
Gold and yellow dance to evocative music
downpour is brought on by charcoal gray
rain and brightness dance across earth
awaking felicity from fugacious winter sleep.
Akin to a roulette ball of a gossamer color
gambling my emotional imbrication away
winning when the ball stops in blue
dancing sea and sky arouse my day.
Categories:
lupines, analogy, appreciation, color, dance,
Form:
Verse
High in the alpine meadow
as flat on my back I lie,
my privacy is absolute
surrounded by the sky.
The blue lupines around me
in wild abandon grow.
Loveliness so unearthly
must be Heaven's over flow.
Sole food for the blue butterfly,
lupines survive the winds
and snows of mountain meadows,
until the winter ends.
God gives then everything they need
to live a short life span,
the lovely flower and the butterfly
far from the eyes of man.
Joyce Johnson
for Constance's wild flower contest. Won 3rd place
Categories:
lupines, natureflower, blue, flower,
Form:
Rhyme
Zephyrus, mighty God of wind, slips over western slopes
to nudge the winter, in quick adieu, ..unfurled against the blue.
He is husband of Khloris, a goddess of the green
He is father of the fruited vine, and all the fruited trees
which bend and bow to every breeze, that curl around his head.
The stalky lupines long for him to take away the chill,
while blue wild flax, will wave and swoon, upon the purple hills.
A colored carpet wide and deep, is sweeping to the eye
with clover green, so fragrant, lush, and it reaches to the sky
to feel the depth of warming breath, exhaled with just his sigh
His warming breath embraces youth, and jealousy is kin
Appollon's love for Hyakinthos, may bring a tragic end
We must ignore his boorish pride, for he thaws the frozen land
and takes command when springtime comes, when green is in demand
_________________________________________________
For the Contest sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
Zephyrus.....God of the West Wind
1/1/15 http://www.theoi.com/Titan/AnemosZephyros.html (Greek Gods)
Categories:
lupines, history, mythology, wind, ,
Form:
Free verse
Riss Rumphius lived by the sea
the Lupine Lady, free as can be
tossing seeds for many hours
pleasing kids-- with her flowers
I think she lived a fulfilling life
even without ever being a wife
look how the children love her
like a flower-fairy god-mother
I do not have to wait till later
to grow lupines above the equator
I grow forget-me-nots already --
they're multiplying -- & spreading!
New project: pressed & dried
flowers between the pages hide
till they create some dainty gift
when the pressing works (well, IF)
Categories:
lupines, books, children, flower, garden,
Form:
Elegy
Beneath the opal passage of the morning
I surrender to my gaze, and I am thrilled
Where the cattle graze upon the hills
The grass is wet and chilled by morning dew
Under haze and clouds, and glow of rising sun
Among the fragrant flowers growing wild
I will try my best, to take a careful step
Not to crush,or snuff the life, of even one
I see a thousand blossoms dancing here
They flaunt their beauty to the sky
Seducing blackbirds gliding low
And filling senses, restoring souls
Yellow buckwheat nestles at my feet
Stalky lupines, with tinge of blue
And wild flax fragile on the stem
Will bend and bow to every breeze
I will sit beside a lodge pole pine
Take my rest against the bark
And hear the song of meadowlarks
Embellish stories of the day
A colored carpet deep and wide
Lies before me with such benevolence
A morning shines, with flowered grace
Kissed by the sun, tossed by the wind
Planted by God, and born to be wild
Categories:
lupines, happiness, nature, peace,
Form:
Free verse
Stalky lupines add a purple fringe
to rugs beneath the lodgepole pine
In tall cool grass, where deer have been
the sun slides down between the limbs
The blue wild flax, on slender stems
will bend and bow to every breeze
And sulphured bands of wild buckwheat
in wild array, will cluster at my feet
Not planned, unintended, still they remain
Untouched by the hoe, and watered by rain
A colored carpet wide and sweeping for my eye
While hiking through the lofty hillside high
Kissed by the sun and tossed by the breeze
Running through clover or wherever they please
The winding path that climbs higher still
Strikes vibrant chords and charms the spirit still
This hillside of carpet, in springtime so mild
Planted by God, and born to be wild
Inspired by Constance's mini contest "Wildflowers"
Categories:
lupines, happiness, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
I stumbled upon
a field of Lupines
and what a sight it was.
Proud spikes swaying
in the morning breeze
poking their colorful heads
above the wild grasses
and Oxeye Daisies,
delicate Fleebane
Queen Anne’s Lace,
Hawkweed and St. John’s Wort,
Large Bluets and Buttercups galore
all mixing in a meadowy display
showing off their beauty
in a Summertime way
that gave me pause
and made me realize
how Nature’s randomness
of flowers and vines and bushes and trees
create the most amazing magnificence
where every living thing
sits side-by-side, never competing
never complaining, never repeating
comely and divine, a work of art sublime
that would all change come tomorrow
but today this was all mine.
Categories:
lupines, flower, july, nature, seasons,
Form:
Free verse
Sunrise,
Sky crimson all over.
The high mountains are still dressed with snow.
Clouds
Surround the vale
As if to protect what’s below.
So many blooming trees,
Though the Scandinavian Mountain ash
Takes its place as the queen of queens.
Below a rainbow of colours.
Fireweed grows wildly
In the meadows and higher mountains.
Whilst below one can discern
Lupines and buttercups
A contrast that delights.
A symphony of hues.
So come my love
Let’s go hiking.
A soft breeze will help us along
It will be a wonderful sight.
Categories:
lupines, spring,
Form:
Free verse
“ ... the bee collects nectar and departs without
injuring the flower, or its color or fragrance .... "
Quote from _ Quotefancy
I am a bee and my life is an eternal struggle
each day I need nectar and pollen to survive
I also need water- but I have found a haven
a bee friendly city garden created with love
oh, I don't mind sharing it with butterflies
and hummingbirds, I know they need food too !
I have watched the young women planting
she is so calm and tranquil and knows
exactly what I like. How did she know that
I cannot see red, but love purple and yellow
and I don't mind blue and white, but no red !
She has created a sweet garden of delight
with purple coneflowers, black eyed susan
sunflowers, daisies, lupines, zinnias, phlox
yarrow, asters and even herbs that I love
like rosemary, oregano, basil and chives,
of course, in reality I do not know their names !
One day, I made a mistake and flew inside
an open door, I was in a daze and was buzzing
but she did not hurt me but cupped her hands
and carried me back outside and placed me
gently on a purple coneflower, that was nice !
She even considered that we need to drink
and has given us a bird bath of clean water
well, I have to share it with the butterflies
and birds, ever seen a hummingbird take a bath !
Oh, I love my wildflower haven . . .
____________________
May 27, 2022
Poetry/Personification/The Bee Haven
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1459-026-27
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Bee Creative
sponsor, Matt Caliri, Judged 07/1712022
Categories:
lupines, animal, emotions,
Form:
Personification
Flowers are the music of the ground, from earth’s lips spoken without sound. ~ Edwin Cerran
Lupines are in the meadow,
speaking poetry of nature;
the breeze directing purple allegretto
for every forest neighbor.
My love shall we go walking
in golden warmth of summer,
with the flowers softly talking
in notes of every color?
Shall we then lay down and slumber
in the sweet grass and the flower,
where cares do not encumber
and dreams become our bower?
There we will surrender to the breeze
and drift on lupine's purple frieze.
Categories:
lupines, nature,
Form:
Sonnet