Best Oleanders Poems

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The waking sun does slowly rise
as dewdrops kiss the lawn
Pastels paint horizon’s smile
in shades of tinted dawn

Oleanders dance the breeze
while shadows come to play
Maples stretch their yawning leaves,
a colorful display

A new day breathes a happy sigh
beneath these skies of blue
Still love is all my eyes...

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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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The sunniest island,
with its Sea Stacks standing out
of the Tyrrhenian Sea,
shimmers as sailboats glide
in timeless serenity...
Paradise's duplication in man's heart.


Winter brings no drifts of snow,
only mild breezes from Sicily,
and the tourist is always on the go,
exploring, discovering and wondering 
how this small island came to...

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on tree limbs jutting out over rivers
sleepy gators bask, absorbing summer’s heat
in fall, the sluggish reptiles do the same
temperatures exceed 100 in the Sunshine State
till November brings a brief reprieve

water lilies, oleanders, daisies
boast vibrant blooms until the first freeze
perhaps December
maybe January
some years not at all

as...

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A Vain Word
by Michael R. Burch

Oleanders at dawn preen extravagant whorls
as I read in leaves’ Sanskrit brief moments remaining
till sunset implodes, till the moon strands grey pearls
under moss-stubbled oaks, full of whispers, complaining
to the darkening autumn, how swiftly life goes—
as I fled before love ......

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Closed the door…
locked it tight
For the final time 
and then no more…
Gazed all about
At the yard…
The flowers…
Where I spent 
So many happy hours
and now would spend
no more

The Oleanders 
at driveways end
Lantanas blooming
Now as then
Our yellow Roses
Wilted now
Like wrinkled brow 
Of ol’ cherished friend

The Mulberry tree...

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Paris today is in the grip of killing spree
Afghanistan tomorrow another victim
New York had faced it terribly
Dew-killing fanatics spreading terrorism
Equity and equality sadly on the wane
Morning dreams in radical sleep
Oleanders in confused brain
Nuclear weapon will be very cheap
International awakening we need
Umbrella of justice and parity
Moon...

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Sonnets LII-LX

The Endeavors of Lips
by Michael R. Burch

How sweet the endeavors of lips: to speak
of the heights of those pleasures which left us weak
in love’s strangely lit beds, where the cold springs creak:
for there is no illusion like love...

Grown childlike, we wish for those storied...

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Did You Learn Anything?

Go ahead.
Put your shoes on.
Walk outside and face the nervous day.
Know that your lungs will not resist you.
Know that your heart will still stir.
Put the key in the ignition.
Now turn the crank.

You are back there now.
As if in a dream so ordered....

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A Vain Word
by Michael R. Burch
 
Oleanders at dawn preen extravagant whorls
as I read in leaves’ Sanskrit brief moments remaining
till sunset implodes, till the moon strands grey pearls
under moss-stubbled oaks, full of whispers, complaining
to the darkening autumn, how swiftly life goes
as I fled before love...

Continue reading...

Eating ice cream outside
on a beautiful spring day
The dog sits at my feet
waiting to lick the bowl
A cat gently washes himself
under a nearby chair
Birds flying above
chirp joyfully to one another
An infant cries
from an apartment across the street
The whimsical sound of children
playing in the distance

All of...

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Catholic

Stern but saintly Father Meissen 
scolded the parents for not having 
their baby boy baptized sooner. 
It was April, 1952,
inside the stained-glassed catholic church,
ensconced on sun-split Newlin street, 
avenue of pink oleanders and cracking sidewalks.
According to the chagrined mother, 
she was told that delaying this...

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In A Suburban Paradise

I was to spend hours on my bed 
writing short stories in 1967;
with my left leg dangling over the left side, 
I sat on the right leg,
like I was some nosy bird nesting on a log, 
watching life and its endless intrigues,
concerning...

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1956 Newport to Bermuda Race

In June, 89 sailboats at midday
Left Newport and Narragansett Bay.

We're on the way in a 635 mile race
To Bermuda - a beautiful place.

Light winds on the first day out
Even sighted a large whale spout.

Next morning at day light
No other boats in...

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he wants to take it all away,
but how much?
how far away?
he wants to unwind the oleanders in her hair,
to kiss the scratches beauty left behind.
to awaken the baby blues,
from their slumber behind velvet curtains.
and here she is now.
this is her rescue.
lying naked on his bedsheets,
goosebumps...

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