Best Nosegay Poems
But, who feels the hush of future-in-the past?
A rabbit in the bush, his heart when he’d greet
The lover’s smile, at little distance, at the last,
To see that Nature's charms would be so sweet;
With an orange in his hand, or maybe this nosegay
Of tender recollections that would tiptoe,
But, he had been at their date, a man of clay.
And all he’d thirsty see -those eyes of the roe.
Because that orange afternoon’s desire was in debt,
And she -a lady dear, like dressed in the air all:
And golden shoes! -a princess from a fairy tale:
”I cannot stay too much” -a clock of his empty soul.
”I have a problem with my shoes” -and he, so sad,
That quickly, she would add: ”but not so bad.”
The hush of each first love would ever last,
Even with awkward poets belonging to the past.
A nosegay is just a bunch of flowers
The 'Gift' is a bunch of special powers
A day is just twenty-four hours
Lemons and limes are a pair of sours
A poem is a group of words that rhyme
(At least they do some of the time)
Larceny is just a petty crime
Dirt is just another name for grime
To come out on top is to be the best
To act the fool is to jape and jest
To badger and annoy is to be a pest
Taking a nap is taking much needed rest
To press lips together is to enjoy a kiss
To yearn for someone is to really miss
Trying to find the meaning in all of this
Is to realise I'm just taking the...... !!!
once upon a time
a wedding day handkerchief
with lovely white lace
an old garter belt
borrowed and fastened on thigh
a groom with blue eyes
a nosegay bouquet
tucked in baby’s breath
fastened with ribbon
the bride’s train so long
ring bearer, flower girls ride
for a couple hours
then into the wind
with the groomsman by her side —
the unbridled bride
12/28/2018
I hold the rainbow and an arrow, for you, my reader;
The thrill of good tomorrow for you, my reader;
The butterfly of happiness will fly from our book
To find a reason and a certitude, for you, my reader;
You don`t remember this verse I took
In the hand of light, for you, my reader
It was at very beginning a word, for you, my reader
And wonders made by Lord, for you, my reader
Temptation of good , to see the truth ,this festival
of hope with favorable look, for you, my reader
And here, YOUR NAME I put, while writing a Ghazal:
A nosegay of perfumes, a tender touch for you, my reader
I harvested a small handful
of beautiful dandelions
arranged them in a special way
that their mini-globe candelas
illumined a yellow aura
surrounding the nosegay cluster.
Their subtle, invisible breaths
exhale a perfumed atmosphere
that becomes irresistible.
And she who shall hold this bouquet
is impelled to whiff its essence;
to discover its true purpose;
and accept this prosaic gift
of my undying love for her.
child-like eyes I look at the waving flowers
only ones as blue as this can be called the cornflower
resplendent in any bouquet loved by many artists,
noted favourite of Dutch painter Johannes Vermeer
fields of cornflowers make everyone smile, even
loving the dormice that lives in its midst.
oh so blue the united mixed colours of spring and summer
with its mixture of green and yellow as nature intended
even though to feel blue is feeling sad or low
revealing a silly grin when a nosegay of these flowers are given by a child.
penned 27 February 2016.
Tomorrow is another lovely day,
For June brings bright flowers in profusion,
Lilies, pinks, and greens compose a nosegay
Or roses she'll get without confusion.
For June brings bright flowers in profusion,
Will she welcome my most fragrant bouquet?
Or roses she'll get without confusion.
May she accept my love and make my day?
Will she welcome my most fragrant bouquet?
Lilies, pinks, and greens compose a nosegay.
May she accept my love and make my day.
Tomorrow is another lovely day.
Am I allowed to court you with many a lovely look,
Like Paris throwing an apple for you, my reader?
Sweet Fancy`s Fairy, sitting by this dear stanza- brook,
Am I allowed some pretty nothings for you, my reader?
The butterfly of happiness will fly from our tender book
To find a reason and a certitude, for you, my reader;
I know you know all poets starve for any merry look
I hold the rainbow and an arrow, for you, my reader;
You don`t remember when so fool this verse I took
To lie the hope in love with love, for you, my reader.
This wonder drop of the first light I still wear before fall:
It was at very first beginning as word, for you, my reader.
This poem of our age in hope alluring beauty may call
The noble thrill of good tomorrow for you, my reader;
Thy forehead resting on my shoulder, a picture by Chagall:
This lie becomes true favorable look, for you, my reader.
Is your smile the only prize a poet took? Then let be all;
But many wonders are still possible for you, my reader.
And here, YOUR NAME I put, while writing my Ghazal:
A nosegay of dreams, a tender touch for you, my reader.
O dear mother, you have left me, on one of those deep and dark winter nights. When the chilling wind from the northern frozen waste came by the window of
your heart and violently shook it, O dear mother, you left me, stepping on the pile of shattered stars and waning moon
By that same window, I, your daughter is kneeling and praying,
and in this moment of tranquility, and in this moment of darkness,
your care from above stands as tears in your eyes and turns into
the descending starlight and comes to me, who prays with
folding hands while looking up you in the heaven
I am walking by the lake where the poor woman’s enmity
once waved high, I am walking a path by your mind’s lake
where the lapse of time calmed the surging waves,
hence the water is quiet as it can be
For the sound of gentle waves is the lullaby once you sang to me
I, your daughter is, under the soft moonbeam, floating lightly
on the water in the sweet dream where I roam
O dear mother, wet with early morning’s dew,
you are praying for your daughter. And, I, your daughter,
present a nosegay of white carnation on your folded knees, and sob
Cape Jasmine
One last white blossom
Memories
Of our youth
You brought three green stems with buds
Fragrance filled the room
Long ago
When you desired love
Memories
Flood my mind
Now you bring me muscadines
From your garden, love
I walked into the shaded forest
seeking comfort from my fears.
On a blanket of soft green moss,
I lay down and shed my tears.
I gathered a handful of tiny flowers.
among the bees, who seemed at play.
Was then I saw the flowers wither,
the beautiful blooms of my nosegay.
Bees stopped buzzing; birds flew away.
The tiny flowers, I looked down to see,
in my hand they had begun to die.
"I meant no harm, God, please forgive me."
I frowned upon their fading colors,
as in my hand they continued to wilt.
"God, I've destroyed your creations.
I'm plagued with remorse and guilt."
Torn with grief, on the ground I fell.
In solemn prayer, I bowed my head low.
I heard buzzing; birds sang once more.
Beside me knelt a fawn and mother doe.
She nudged me with her velvet nose.
Beams of light reached through the trees.
They fell upon a patch of tiny flowers.
"God, did you put them here for me?"
Gently, I touched each fragile bloom.
I inhaled their sweet perfumed scent.
I understood His merciful message.
Forgiveness for sins is what He meant.
They were to me, lilies of the field.
A reminder from my Heavenly Father.
That I need not worry over my fears.
He is with me, and he calls me 'daughter.'
Thou art my mistress,my fantasy,and my craving
Thou art my imperial,my masterpiece,my wealth, and treasure
Thou art sunshine and silvery that doth enliven dismal heart
To the sparkling stars I shall compare thee
Your beauty with beauteous,luminous,and lustrous
Thou art serenity of many endowments:
Endowed with cooling effects of milky moon on a starry night
How ductile is thy movements
Lithe body lissomly limbers in exquisite
Like summer orchids manoeuvres on jolly sprigs.
Thou art nosegay endued with odoriferous incense to nostrils
As hard as diamonds oft
As chill as frosted hail
Yet thou remain delicate like dandelion thistles
And as sweet as that of thamatin
Sticked with faithfulness of lioness care
Thou art the sweet songs I dost composed in dreams
Where, in dual we shall sing in our melodious tone of the nightangle.
Thou art my reasons to morns wake
Thou art irresistible:
unique,proper ,and sublime
Mistress Yangchenma ,you are!
All my tears and scars
Hadth transformed into radiant blossoms
Giving me a reason to smile each days
Thou art imcomparable,My mistress Yangchenma!
Thou hadst joy and forever in your sparkling eyes.
Thou art entrancing divine soul
Yes! Thou art veritably.
Thank you.
*Yangchenma refers to girl name.
Note: Your humble rectification is highly respected.
Passions Flower
Edward Clay
March 2008
Hibiscus
no wall-flower you.
Nor Nosegay laurel.
Not wormwood at virgin’s-bower.
So sweet William
seeing Venus’s looking-glass
discovers a Passion-flower.
pick a rose
pick a posy
posy of snowdrops
posy of violets
violets bright purple
violets to spray
spray the flowers
spray softly misty
misty blue eyes
misty cloudy days
days with laughter
days with tears
tears of gladness
tears of sadness
sadness in death
sadness for grades
grades to record
grades to improve
improve life’s direction
improve each decision
decisions Hell bound
decisions wisely chosen
chosen God leading
chosen through prayer
prayer in sickness
prayer in health
health bringing gladness
health bringing wealth
wealth for possessions
wealth to share
share with compassion
share with family
family is forever
family grows together
together building dreams
together growing gardens
gardens of love
gardens of hope
hope for tomorrow
hope for successes
successes at work
successes at home
home of faith
home that nurtures
nurtures each child
nurtures and guides
guides with wisdom
guides through life
wisdom ~
guides ~
Posy - Definition and More from the Free Merriam-Webster ...
www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/posy
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Merriam?Webster
Full Definition of POSY. 1 : a brief sentiment, motto, or legend. 2 a : bouquet, nosegay
Form: Blitz - A form of poetry created by poet Robert Keim in 2008. It is a 50-line poem of short phrases and images. The "Blitz" poem is well-named, as the fifty short lines are read in rapid-fire fashion. “The form really relies on sound and rapid "flow." ~Rob Keim.
Daphne Odora
Dainty Daphne costumed in purest white
Through winter’s darkest days shares her blooms
Wears a satin gown to the ice moon’s delight
Small nosegay clusters share intoxicated perfume.
Daphne sings in winterfests of raucous snows
Evergreen, her smiles warm winterbound showers
January’s merry child surely knows
She lifts the heart through every frigid hour.
8-26-22
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