Best Seeds Poems
**"And his name was Jack"**
No one perceives what abides above the clouds.
A giant, a harp, maybe golden eggs.
I demand to see and feel before I believe.
A castle, a dream…. I want the magic beans!!!
~~~
I'm the daughter of a farmer.
I have a donkey to ride, a story to tell.
“Jack and the Beanstalk” my favorite tale.
Once upon a morbid dawn.
I inhale a tiny simple yawn
Like the morning sun levitating over the farm,
I rise towards the village square to sell my ass
Along the open path, my ass and I desired a drink.
Near the rustic river,
I'd seen an old Englishman, sitting on a log.
It looked as if time was approaching his brink.
In his hand, he had a sack.
A bag, a bag, embroil of ivory and black.
His eyes were not from this ground.
His body fragile - it uttered a moaning sound.
He was of dirt.
I was pure.
He pledged his life to me.
I debated .... with many thoughts,
Although his eyes...
My eyes... Will never meet again.
"I want what's in the bag!"
In a gasp, he whispers,
"I'll give you anything for that ass.
my legs and bones can’t hold up on their own!”
I knelt down to where he sat
Smelling his essence of rot
I reached forward and grabbed his baggage
He griped, "This bag is all I got!"
I answered, "And this sir is a fine ASS!"
He replied, "I have no cash."
Scowling at him, “NO I want your demon seeds!"
My blood grew thin...
Inhaling and exhaling - his sin
The old man all shriveled and timeworn,
Proposed the birthright of the seeds.
"Yes, plant them! Plant them!"
I cried excitedly!
He pats the field.
Said "there I am done,
now clock as it expands"
To breed this story short...
He dispenses his seeds.
AND, I GAVE HIM MY ASS.
BY;PD
A solitary man
I make my way up the mountain
One step at a time
The life I know further and further behind
I wish to be alone
away from the busyness
the incessant noise
my many responsibilities
life’s never ending activities
work that is never done
all of life’s many conflicts
I reach the top
sit down and cross my legs
As I look out at the landscape
my village is a small mass of thatched roofs
the people barely seeable
I see smoke rising from a central fire
wondering if I will be missed
From this distance the lake appears so small
I imagine it fitting into a wooden spoon
The horizon surrounds me
stretching my eyes
distracting me from the pebbles beneath me
blades of grass are now myopically large
I watch as the ants toil
Are our lives not the same?
Seasons change
Summer to fall
Winter to spring
I witness it all
My beard lengthens as my mind enlarges
Secrets have been revealed
Disconnected yet I am a part of all
I grow downward into the ground
Others come to the mountain top
seeking wisdom
They sit with me for a while
never staying long
Each takes from me so that they may give
I am a man transformed
Arms outstretched reaching to all the horizons
covered with foliage
The seasons continue to change
I send my leaves down to the village
beconing them to come to the mountain
no longer do I want to be alone
"Come sit beneath my branches
caress my bark smell my scent
know my soul."
You come to the mountain top
But I am no longer able to audibly speak
All that I know resides in the rings of my seasons
Still you partake of my wisdom
Putting your ear to my trunk
You can hear my lonely heart beat
aware of my breath whistling through leather like leaves
I attach my seeds to your woolen coat
You are a solitary man
making your way down from the mountain
One step at a time
Closer and closer to our village
To the ones you love
As you walk through the village you shake your coat
Seeds fall on the fertile ground
Finally I have come home...
When walking in splatter of Spring's anticipated rains
blessed is the youth in you, if wearing no shoes;
further given if you can then see rainbow hues
thus finding such fantastic sights halt great worries and pains.
Such fleeting rewards fly by with blossoming paradise sails
should you bask in that magnificent soft warm glow;
savor precious moment, follow which way it blows
casting care to the wind, seek victory that never fails?
As smiling blue sky, clears to send you a most wondrous day
your heart explodes in radiance of sacred gifts
with sunny joy bestowed as clouded spirit lifts -
hope’s appreciation cupped in hands; precious golden ray.
Sweet tears of joy that bring us back to laughter of our youth
when colors filled our world not overcast with doubt,
and purest pleasures bloomed and new ideas did sprout
from creativity’s simple seeds sown in fertile truth.
So for a time give wings to worry’s flight from your pained mind,
your future’s not as bleak as life would make it seem;
bare feet can splash in puddles neath a rainbowed dream,
life’s pleasures in your golden age still there for you to find.
Robert J. Lindley and Susan Ashley
(a collaboration)
July 9, 2018
Poet’s note: My dear friend Robert, your enchanting inspiration has worked its magic, once again, for generating yet another radiant collaborative experience. It’s was with wonderful pleasure that I enjoyed the opportunity to write with you this meaningful poem of hope and happiness as one grows older… the golden thread of hope continues to weave its way through our writes and I’m proud of the tapestry our words do create. I relish the privilege of being your writing partner, it is my lovely joy and an honor. Your superb poetic talent and insight gives your poetry a lustrous quality and a rich value that I treasure. It is with my truest appreciation that I call you, my friend. Thank you Robert.
When I say peace, what comes into your mind?
Some fantasy, a world where there's no wars
No soldiers setting foot on foreign shores
Where weapons of destruction aren't designed
My thoughts on peace are vastly more refined
I think of nature's song which has no score
The changing of her seasonal decor
The moon and stars, in silence, as they shine
And yet you ask,"Well, what about world peace?"
If you'll recall that's just a fantasy
Man's lust for gold and power will not cease
It's time to face up to reality
I realize my thoughts are so unkind
But that's as close to peace as one can find
Hatred will steal your heart just like a thief
let the beauty of love set your heart free
Who you follow does not matter to me
but beliefs should not be forced to cause grief
Life can be fragile like an Autumn leaf
a journey that reflects moods of the sea
Yet, strong leaves return on each naked tree
and waves become calm when reaching a reef
Get rid of ego, do not let it grow
love is the hope for the future we breed
Poets pick up your pen, let your ink flow
together we can heal those hearts that bleed
Words are a force, if unified we sow
which lay foundations for a peaceful seed
written by Daniel Turner and Silent One
NOT FOR CONTEST
The God Seeds
in the midnight summer solstice
out in air alive with fireflies
floats young lovers and their wishes
exciting moments hand and hand
hold the mind in solid silence
contemplating on the romance
to be shared in heat of passion
just a touch is hot attraction
till coming dawn all fresh with dew
with a sum of years, they ponder
deep within to nurture God seeds
of a rich devotion aging
from eye to eye and lips to heart
of the man and of the woman
imparting joy and love to keep
a constant growing in the soul
an empathy says someone cares
to walk together when their old
7/25/17
Spring's First Morn, Promise Of Those Rising Seeds
When seeking beauty, 'tis the rose I choose
Its flaming reds, 'oft love and truth infuse
And so reminds fine poetry of Keats
Or delicious taste of chocolate sweets
Yet dawn's sweet awakening Shelley sings
That flowers are the purest Heart of Spring!
But mind cries out, what of the yellow rose
Can it dance in the image that you chose
Shout out its songs, as does a meadow lark
Express its glory- vanquish the deep dark
Will aura of soft rose thy heart imbue
That beauty and truth spirit 'oft renews?
When Spring's waking heart, radiant truth shows
Dare we ignore majesty of the rose
And awakening, its beauty inspires
Blossoming spark that sets anew love's fires
How such sights sears into ones heart and mind
Essence of Life and a soul true and kind?
Spring's first morn, promise of those rising seeds
Joy of flowers that a soul often needs
Wafting aromatic smell, sunlit rose
So pleases the eyes, delights eager nose
Inspiring beauty in its soft splendor
Sings of Love and Kisses sweet and tender!
https://www.howmanysyllables.com/syllable_counter/
5-23- 2021
Syllables counted by,
The Most Beautiful Flowers You've Seen Blossoming,
This Spring So Far, Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
Awarded first place..
When sowing in a fallow field
A bumper crop you'll hope to yield
For many folks, do a good deed
Think of others when planting seed
No two days will e'er be the same
The farmer always takes the blame
Some crops are never meant for feed
Think of others when planting seed
Share your harvest and you will find
Daily blessings for being kind
Don't desire avarice or greed
Think of others when planting seed
If one crop withers and then fails
Plant again, persistence prevails
Take this warning for you should heed
Think of others when planting seed
Do not have a bad attitude
For everything show gratitude
Tomorrow you just might succeed
Think of others when planting seed
May your garden be filled with sprouts
And your days not be plagued by doubts
Do not allow contempt to breed
Think of others when planting seed
Your days will bear sweet ripened fruit
And grow when love has taken root
Keep your field free of tangled weeds
Think of others when planting seeds
A blowing wind ~ in November's chill
Through leafless trees ~ atop a hill
Falling seeds ~ adrift in air
Blowing Wildly ~ far and near
Under leaves ~ and under stone
Lost in cover ~ left alone
A lucky seed ~ If rain begins
Where it falls ~ from blowing winds
The raindrop falls ~ it's what it takes
Melted down ~ by chance it flakes
Roots in mud ~ it came to be
A springtime blossom ~ a newborn tree
Of years in growth ~ it now stands tall
Dropping seeds ~ in time of fall
Blown in wild ~ hidden in weeds
A forest grows ~ from wind blown seeds
The Raindrop Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
11/20/2018
"Seeds of Reformation"
It has already begun
the swift elevation
of metaphor, self revelation
echoes the transition
of other heralds
their grand symphony
of change singing
like archangels calling
in the love pains, of all
their others' oceans
beacons pure,
the children
torch bearers
radiant lights
teetering on the edge
of reformation
shifting
fresh hearts
reaching out
to their deepest imprint
a bluer sky watching
holds them firm
sings them in
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Black weeds of doubt
still sprout
from the seeds of me pain
remembering the day
when i had lost love again
after letting myself care much
forgot that love is hush
still I tasted the bitter
side of love that wasn't better
those words of pain from your letter
Ignored that, there is danger
in loving someone so much
that love is blind
takes over the mind
had treasured happiness
and locked it away in sadness
for black weeds of doubt
still sprout
from the seeds of my pain
As I force myself to remember
the drying, falling & dying
of our love in November
when summer started
had no love content
when the knife so sharp
those lies tore me apart
left me with black weeds of doubt
that still sprout
from the seeds of my pain
Now I cant say it no more
that I love you alot
for that repetition
does not bring correction
to the horror of my past
when i thought i had found love at last
until the day when all were gone
and our love was done
remaining with only black weeds of doubt
that sprout
from the seeds of my pain
they sprout
cause i doubt
that you love me
i think you'll hurt me
like he did, again...
I’m noticing the seeds I like to buy
are running out in flavor “Nacho Cheese.”
They’ve got sunflower seeds in Ranch, but I
require my nacho cheese ones. Geeez Louise!!
I look it up on Google and I find
they’re selling out. I run to every store!
They’ve got that dang “Dill” flavor, but my kind
is not in stock and won’t be any more.
I know a service station that’s still got
those seeds I love. I’m off! The hunt is on!
I’ll buy up every bag in every spot
where I can locate them before they’re gone.
Some other stations carry them. I dash
from Pleasant Grove to Provo, brandishing
my credit card. I buy them. In a flash,
all seeds in Nacho Cheese are vanishing!
I’m driving south as far as Mapleton!
The chance of finding bags of them is dire
for fellow addicts. I’ve found sixty-one
to last a year before they all expire!
A true story that happened to me about five years ago
See "About Poem" above. When I love something, I try very hard to get it!!
For the Obsession Contest of Silent One
Quote:
If there were no night, we would not appreciate the day,
nor could we see the stars and the vastness of the heavens.
We must partake of the bitter with the sweet.
There is a divine purpose in the adversities we encounter every day.
They prepare, they purge, they purify, and thus they bless.
>>>> James E. Faust
************
For Light Then Plants Its Invincible Seeds
In that deep darkness, no pity exists
Fate too often decries such on its list
Of destruction and sad, sorrowful woes
Those mortal man feels as hard, heavy blows
Once held within, eyes bled fast to go blind
While lost hope too, seeds a worm-wooded mind!
In that set malaise, how can love rejoice
Human soul sees life as having no choice
But to bend, bow and admit utter defeat
For evil wins and evil always cheats
Agony cries, beast on human flesh dines
Where struggling in morbid black, no light shines!
In that sepulchre no pleas can escape
This world seems but a devilish landscape
Born not for man but for deep disaster
And in it, Fate and Death are two masters
Such is the great power that darkness holds
Mankind seems to be made from broken molds!
Let one ray of Light enter that abyss
Fate then finds that its poison arrows miss
For Light then plants its invincible seeds
Tends new garden removing all the weeds
And Death, its dark-dreaded touch must then wait
For Heaven above cast Light changing Fate!
Robert J. Lindley, 4-11-2021
Rhyme,
( For what is man, if divine Light does not shine )
If we could look into the seeds of time,
and say which grain will grow and which will not,
we would arrange our affairs defiantly
in the face of current opposition.
If a thought should geminate and flourish
in the barren soil of the status quo,
it would likely be by sheer providence
that ideas would come to fruition.
Our dreams, our very imagination,
are what keep our momentum in this world.
Sans the prospect of incremental feats,
we would not strive to attain excellence.
If the portent of riches entices us,
would we forsake every value system
to attain the pinnacle of success?
No one could portend the foreordained path.
A packet of seeds arrived in the mail last week
with no hint of what they were, or how to be grown.
With curiosity aroused by their mystique,
I wondered just what I would reap from what I'd sown.
The very next day, there appeared weird little sprouts,
wiggling like fingers, rising up from rain soaked ground.
That these things were edible, I was having doubts
when I heard from deep inside one, a gurgling sound.
If this was a prank or some sort of wicked joke
someone was making a mockery out of me.
My heart nearly stopped; thought I was having a stroke.
I needed a drink, or a bottle of Chablis.
Suddenly, tendrils grew into a climbing vine
with blooms of white flowers, overflowing with wine.
August 16, 2020
Mystery Seeds Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Carolyn Devonshire
Inside my mailbox late last month; nine packs of seeds - a mystery!
I hadn't ordered anything, but curious was I to see
what might become of planting them. So grabbing trowel, hoe, and rake,
I set about to till some soil; a little garden plot to make.
To my delight, the plants grew fast. I'd saved the packs to see each name;
though Latin isn't my first tongue, I'd know each blossom as it came.
Each flower shape was like a quill, which I then took back to my room
and onto paper, words would spill from every seed's enchanted bloom.
The packet labeled "Clio Phlox" was my first taste of mystery:
the quill-shaped flower wrote and wrote a tome of Roman history!
"Euterpe Hyacinth" was next: this writing didn't take as long.
Within ten minutes, written down were lyrics of a lovely song.
Then "Terpsichore Ranunculus" - after it drew a five-line staff,
composed a lively dance tune for the song lyrics - it made me laugh!
Speaking of laughter, my next bloom; the "Thalia Agapanthus" wrote
a stand-up comic's funny script - a joke or two I'd love to quote.
"Melpomene Nasturtium" was the one I needed tissues for:
as tragic words came pouring out, my teardrops splashed upon the floor.
"Urania Hydrangea" wrote sweet poetry of sun and stars,
of comets, and alignment of the moon with Jupiter and Mars.
"Erato Rosa" wrote some rhymes of kisses under stars above,
some ballads of infatuation, some of unrequited love.
"Calliope Plumeria" wrote fast and long: one poem came -
a tragic tale of epic length, it put poor Beowulf to shame!
"Gardenia Polyhymnia" wrote Psalm-like hymns, I said "amen".
My eyes were reverently shut, but when I opened them again -
I realized it was a dream! Nine muses came in flower form.
I woke, and quickly wrote this down (believe me, this is not the norm!)
//Note: The Nine muses of ancient Greece were:
//Clio - History Euterpe - Lyric Poetry Terpsichore - Song/Dance
//Thalia - Comedy Melpomene - Tragedy Urania - Astronomy
//Erato - Love poetry Calliope - Epic poetry Polyhymnia - Sacred Hymns
//... the remaining Latin words are names of some of my favorite flowers
written 12 Aug 2020