Best Nots Poems
forget-me-nots
my teacup smells of
fond memories
------------------------------
A Haiku Contest sponsored
by Deborah Beachboard
Awarded POTD ~ 1st March 2018
She craves the Likes
With those comments so much
It’s proof there are some souls
She’s been able to touch
So she writes in the morning
well into the night
Trying to find that magic
to reveal her inner light
Yes poetry is her drug
a place that seems so real
Her world without borders
where she’s able to feel
Not restricted by society
in this place she’s a Queen
A flower of the desert
or a hero from a movie scene
Sensual and adventurous
No limitations for her
A temptress extraordinaire
able to make strong men purr
No impossible mountain
all of them she can climb
She can even be a villain
for a moment in time
Every story she shares
is a pearl from her mind
Do not pass by to quickly
there are treasures to find
So as you read her words
offer her some thoughts
For this word worthy habit
is a garden, of Forget-Me-Nots
Leave me now love, if you would not grow old.
Memory will keep your beauty on hold
For autumn afternoons when leaves turn gold
And on wintry eves when the days are cold.
Years will drift by like clouds upon the wind,
Painting the dappled landscape of my mind
With visions of impressionistic hue
Of love I left behind when I was new.
A view from afar is never so dear
As the heartfelt warmth of one who is near.
I’d rather share the seasons as they pass
Then scan them through memory’s looking glass.
Such sweet little wildflowers
Shades varied in tones of blue
Growing along stream's bower
Softly kissed by morning dew.
Near such stream, a besotted knight
Walked with his lovely fair maiden
In suit of armor, he met his plight
In his hand, forget-me-nots laden.
Legend has it he fell in the river
Still holding on to his fragile gift
Tossed, the flowers he was to give her
A clenched hand was all he could lift.
As a symbol of faithful love so true
Forget-me-nots grow in early Spring
I will offer some I'll pick for you
When on my knee, I offer you a ring.
No desperate lover wants a fleur
with one too many loves-me-nots.
Should ever such a fleur occur,
be everything but soft with her.
Be sure to tell her just how mad
you were with her result,
and how the extra loves-me-not
could not have been love's fault.
That flower was not just to you;
therefore, no plucking should you do
again. You should do this instead:
forget the fickle flowerbed!
I left the garden and its woes,
I left the lily and the rose,
and left the dreaded floral sun,
on which my desperate plucks were done!
No longer should you ask of them
if you are meant to be with him!
Discover for yourself what's true!
I did!--and he replied,
"I do."
Such wondrous things that come to you from travels far and wide.
Trinkets and knick knacks you keep somewhat near at hand, and never too far from your side.
Throughout life's journeys You'll check on them for fear they'll be left behind.
Being of meaningful purpose; that's remembered whenever they cross your mind.
Naively not that you're rashly in love; although of them
your feelings are warm and kind.
Solely fond memories of notable times; ergo they're ne'er out of place nor ever hard to find
'Tis odd you must hold onto them whether your abode's a fancy home or merely a shared cot.
You realize as long as they're safely tucked away, in the place of "Forget Me Nots";
You're strangely better off with them__even if they're all that you have or got.
~~~ w 11172018
Forget-Me-Nots
Across the field, I trampled a path
When I held back and marveled to see,
Near the babbling brook beneath the trees,
A sea of blue of scorpion grass:
Tiny blooms asway in waves of glee,
Of forget-me-nots, and thirsty bees.
From end to end, as far as I could see,
In the serene lea, they spread their petals,
Exhibiting beautiful visuals
On the gentle slope, swaying in the breeze.
I looked back at the path and then ahead,
Enthralled as to where destiny had led.
The sun shone down with warmth unsurpassed
As the wind blew over cool, fresh air.
They fluttered about extraordinaire
Expressing their amour unabashed.
I was enamoured by their charisma
Under the sky of terra firma.
And when I’m dismayed to see storm clouds brew
And lacklustre negative thoughts prevail,
I reminisce their presence in the meadow,
Of powder blue amongst a greenery view.
Then, my eyelids succumb, and I envision
Fields of forget-me-nots abloom in heaven.
***
Note:
The Myosotis (meaning mouse’s ear due to the resemblance of the shape of their leaves), aka forget-me-not flower, is also known as scorpion grass because of its spiralling stem leading to its flower head, which looks like a scorpion tail.
Forget-me-nots are biennial plants (i.e., they have a life span of two years) that emit no scent. They bloom from May to October and are associated with the birth month of September, along with the aster and morning glory. Forget-me-nots symbolize love, respect, and remembrance.
In life there are those haves and those who have not
We are told there will always be poor people in life
Yet poverty causes me so much strife
In life.
I hate being so poor
I cannot take it any more
There has to be success in store.
I see the want in the eyes of my wife
My child's hunger cuts like a knife
There has to be an end of this strife
In life.
I stood in the midst of a meadow,
as an autumn breeze swayed its flaxen hair.
The last flush of sun was giving way
to a peach blossoming evening sky,
readying the day to lay and replenish,
beneath the strokes of night.
As it unfolded around me,
I watched with hungry eyes,
as visions of you etched upon a lowering cloud,
slipped by in outstretched shadows,
out of reach of my trembling hand;
for dreams still held you captive within its grasp.
I held myself with tired arms,
repeating sighs, choked on sadness,
as my heart grew gossamer thin;
another tear stained page stored in memory;
painful forget-me-nots.
Nicole
©
2006
Look again
Towards the breadbasket of civilization
They hold up a mirror
To our own looming confrontation
Upon the beautiful shores of Greece
Comes a class warfare that has divided the cultural peace
Forced down his throat the Noble Greek will not swallow
The European Austerity Plan he's expected to follow
Damning their working class culture and not approved by Apollo!
Quite fitting this eternal struggle has returned to this original arena
When the working class people are exploited
They always find it anathema
Pray
May their Truth be guided by the Sword of Hercules
And the Wisdom of Athena
Splicing up time, a reflection did appear.
Cross my heart stick a needle in my eye.
These things I saw before us, you and I.
I tell you the truth, and I will pinky swear.
Your great lusts will be leveled in despair.
You will watch and witness a greater lie.
You will pine and pine to no avail so cry.
You will be emptied of your just and fair.
So carry this torch and pass it on,
Feel the flames and feel them sear,
For you have been branded a pawn.
So listen up because your time is here.
Great goodness was once your friend,
Your no nots do not mix a pure blend
(R) Registered: 2013 Ann Rich
I
lie here
in mourning
exposed by dawn
Spring’s forget-me-nots
wither and wane
like dwindling
dreams of
you
Written 5/25/20 for Emile Pinet’s
Ninette Contest
where do I set my bags
I believe I am dizzy from all this jet lag
passed through gas like smoke coming out of a train
I need a chair to sit down I may go insane
pass out from all the exposure of this transition
crossing the Pacific Ocean misting
clouds puffing around mountains
back up I am dizzy again did I see a clown and
a man hula hooping across a farm
no let me get together I am too paranoid
from all this sea motion
I am experiencing dysfunctional balances
bar tending soaking
Will a Mai Tai help?
is that all you are drinking
well I may as well and enjoy myself
because when take off after this vacation
I will have nothing left
especially to complain about
here we come beach side surfing zip lining
flies in my mouth
I am ready for this week
i am socially satisfied it is time to eat
pineapples coconuts with straws
while I run under a palm tree with sticky leaves
Hawaii I have come to thee
to enjoy and raise much noise
I left the kids an I am all yous
forget-me-not blues
plastic flowers for your grave
fading befitting
***
I know not what knot will not unknot,
I know not why that knot won’t loose.
So if you know what knot won’t unknot,
Show me how to tie my shoes.