Best Seasonssweet Poems
In my summer meadow
Lavender colored milkweeds, growing between dark purple butterfly peas, are
perfuming the warm air.
The color combination is especially pleasing to me; I love purple.
Perfectly round globes of milkweed are a magnet for bees, butterflies and a variety
of other insects. I see lightening bugs among them.
The buzzing of bumblebees, wasps and honeybees is accompanied by the chirping
of crickets and the happy twittering of the meadow birds.
Yellow Sweet Clover lends it's perfume to the summer symphony of soothing scents.
Tall spikes of blooming Johnson grass sways dreamily in the bright sunlight.
Right in the middle of a soft pink wild rose bush, a bright red butterfly weed is the
center of activity for many species of colorful butterflies. A brilliant blue"Two-barred
Flasher” flaps it's wings as fast as a hummingbird, while the orange-brown Buckeye
rests peacefully.
Next to the roses, a blackberry bush is promising juicy, dark berries soon, while the
Mulberry trees are already providing a welcome sweet snack for birds, deer and
bunnies.
A patch of wide- open orange daylillies is a cheerful spot over at the edge of the
trees and an emerald- green hummingbird enjoys their offerings.
There is so much life and beauty in a small patch of meadow!
I love it!
.
Baked sweet potatoes fluffed high
Warm sweet scented base
Eggs, sugar, milk, butter, spices
Coconut, raisins
Chopped pecans topped with
Marshmallows__
Yum!
Still a bit cool out tonight. I drove to my boomfield anticipatin' gentle winds
and sweet returns. All my booms impress and amaze me, 'cept for a
couple of 'em, which I know always takes me a few tosses to figure 'em out.
The air is sweet with the promise of Spring....colorful ducks and geese fill
the sky. Quickly, sundown approaches, winds abate and peepers from the
creek at the edge of my field begin their harmonies.
Suddenly! in a dead-calm wind.... I feel it, only in Spring at sundown!
a cool creek breeze, waist-high, slowly waves over me....redolent with
moisture-filled Spring perfumes released from their winter slumber, while
the air above my waist stays warm!.... a sensation unlike anything I've ever
felt or smelled before!
Then it comes to me.... hmmmm.....stationary warm thermal above...cool
air below.... MTA time! ( a special 'rang shaped like a small hockey-stick, called
maximum time aloft) ... I begin tossing sweet flights (for me!) and eagerly
catch 'em low, reveling in the different temperatures, odors and sensations as
I reach to bring 'em in near the ground. An overwhelming sense of well-being
floods my mind.... as I thank my boomerangs for taking me deep into
April.... in Minnesota.
March came in this year, like a wet feline,
Growling and mad without a sign
Of the sweet pussycat that she can be.
I wonder what made her so angry.
Winter won’t leave yet, Spring wants her turn.
March, caught in the middle begins to yearn
To be a month with no change of season.
Her stress causes me to lose my reason.
So don’t blame March if within her reign,
Everything is wild and a bit insane.
Winter wants his turn and Spring must wait
Until he is going out of the gate.
It is then you will see a swift turn around
With sweet March smiling without a frown.
The sun will shine and skies will be blue
And to this March madness, we’ll bid adieu.
For Carolyn's contest won 2nd place
Who remembers, is it only me?
Flour paste, scissors and pretty colored paper
Assembled upon the table, the early morn in May
This memory shrugs so many years away
Our innocence, cut and shaped
Into bright-sprigged paper cones
Such sweet accomplishments, each our own
Then quickly running out the door
To pick spring beauties, violets galore
Or lady slippers, wildwood fern, we gathered them
Sweet Williams, heavy on their stems
And fresh as morning dew, filled with bloom
The paper cones were flower filled
And paper handles dried, smells of sweet perfume
Then down the dusty road we trudged
Arms loaded side by side
No greater pleasure as a child
The thought of bringing someone smiles
Then knocking on each neighbor's door
And calling "May basket...Surprise!"
Our little legs then running quickly, down the road,
Behind a tree, we would hide
And watch them find this flower prize
Must not....get caught.....must not get caught!
And we were taught
That bringing light to someone's eyes
Was worth a lot !!
Under May Day's vibrant skies
This month alas, was when we met
Four hundred and forty two months ago
A month most commonly, often wet
Proactive tears for our latent sorrow
There in unusual morning brightness
You stood before the altar like a lamb
And in resplendent sacred sweetness
I heard your beauty sang of the great I AM
September clouds were white that day
September flowers in bloom as may
September joyed like bright kites away,
September love can, never, never stay
But the fruit of September stains still
The heart, despite the will, can remember
The trees dress gusting o'er the bent hill
And the heart brightly burning with love's sweet ember
O mistless memory, O sweet
Unfruiting dreams, friendship in shadows pines
For the nectar hope's sweet breasts secrete
For the prolific season's latent signs
To freeze, for age gold bowl no contentment
Yields, when limbs creak and bones seek shutters warm
And flesh failing sap lies impotent
Where the honey runs from the comb - trembling my arm