Best Succulents Poems
The lace of a Lily
and grace of a bee
the face of a flower
and sun on the sea
Silhouette shadows
cloud painted skies
rivers of peace
a bird as she flies
colorful lichen
the succulents glow
still water mirrors
and Autumn’s first show
All of them captured
as moments in time
life’s truest treasure
these moments of mine
Categories:
succulents, art, imagery, inspiration, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Charles Green was eight years old, and his father was a great teacher.
Yet, Charlie preferred playing to school; because he was a daydreamer.
The Greens lived in the town of Ivoria, where dahlias nodded greeting;
And Charlie frolicked with Sam and Scarlett, until sun came, bleeding.
Samuel and Scarlett were his siblings. Both got good grades in school;
Like gardens dyed in burgundy, red, orange, and gold, lovely as jewels.
Fantastic, flaming nights were not far, and gusts fitfully tossed flowers;
As good friends flattered the family with visits, like silver glazed hours.
Funny family rode for miles, to laugh jokes, or olden days, out of focus,
When fruitful summer was finally full-grown, and jade frogs visited lotus.
Charlie lived in the house of enlightenment, like a saffron sun, forever;
Where lilac breezes brought on awareness, in emerald days of whatever.
Soaring ravens owned the satin nights, when navy twilight was missed,
On Charlie's street of songbird serenade, and big moon, still sun kissed.
Formality was never necessary with neighbors, when they came calling;
In a pretty nation of nearsighted novelty, where aged time was crawling.
The touch of jazzy 'jade vines,' adored June, and monkey tail cacti leapt;
As 'jungle velvet dottie' posed pretty, and 'little baby dwarf kowha' wept.
'Alien egg succulents' waited an eternity, only for pleasure of being born;
And 'blue shrimp' plants swam sadly, like snows, as weather turns warm.
On his way to school, Charlie began to dawdle. Frogs were so much fun!
Like honey sunshine on the first rose, back when scents were first begun.
Charlie's lateness was fun for a time, as neither of his parents knew of it;
Then his teacher made him realize, that with learning, the sky's the limit!
She finished her talk with the following words, that haunted him forever;
And made him a better pupil and person, like all honest, fruitful endeavor:
'A diller, a dollar,
A ten o'clock scholar,
What makes you come so soon?
You used to come at ten o'clock,
And now you come at noon.'
Categories:
succulents, boy, fantasy, nursery rhyme,
Form:
Couplet
In pursuit of imperfect perfection,
she slowly turned every lucky star blind,
drowning in constant chores from obsession,
unable to appease her stormy mind.
Promises ascend against perception,
nothing halts fixed rituals from spinning,
as turmoils of time twirl through aggression,
she sees the devilish mantra winning.
What is left when breathing becomes a pain?
whilst malignant fears urge for reliance,
spiky succulents perish faith in vain
frantically panicking in silence.
day bleeds into repetitive debate—
Emotive wildfires stir despair and hate.
emotive wildfires
appease her stormy mind blind
stir despair and hate
breathing becomes a pain~in the pursuit of imperfect perfection
Categories:
succulents, mental health,
Form:
Sonnet
Intense thirst in the sweltering desert,
yet, the emerald succulents still thrive;
for surviving, often takes extra effort.
Intense thirst in the sweltering desert;
Then cool moon arrives, as if pressured.
A beautiful, flowering cacti night, alive!
Intense thirst in the sweltering desert,
yet, the emerald succulents still thrive.
Categories:
succulents, beauty, endurance, nature, night,
Form:
Triolet
A bell-jar, crystalline, as transparent as an aquarium
Vibrant colors burnt umbers tints glass atop the kitchen table.
No elaborate gardening, just gentle misting in the terrarium
Muted pinks, earthy tones, texture soft as Siberian sable
My supercilious ways are overridden by fecund elegance.
Gather around my friends and behold cherished succulents.
These flowery cacti, such profuse perennial poetic ebullience,
with an award worthy, floral southwestern desert essence.
Categories:
succulents, beauty, imagery,
Form:
Rhyme
My garden is an art of splendour,
I behold her with all my gaiety,
A garden of flowers and hope blossoming alike,
With all its beauty.
The buds splutter,
The mystic mystery unfolds with its glory,
Giving way to the symphony,
A harmony of colours and sounds so deep.
The soft petals dances to the melodious hues,
Spellbinding the onlookers,
A riot of colours it is!
Pink, purple, red, yellow, green, orange, scarlet and many more.
The butterflies waver through the unending haze,
The bees buzz adding to the tunes of melody,
The chirping birds twitter incessantly,
It's a confluence of colours and melodies so sweet,
The master conductor is the wind,
It directs every soul in the garden,
To break into the euphoria.
The wind chimes tingle with delight,
As if to thank me for their site,
Along the trails I hung them so dearly from the lamp post and trees.
Amidst all the extravaganza,
A happy me!
Hopping and tapping on the stepping stones,
Twisting and turning through the garden coves,
Here and there a nest erupts
among the shrubs and trees,
To signal a new dawn.
What more can I wish for?
As I wander and ponder
Through the poppies, pansies, poinsettia and phloxes,
Salvias, sweet william, succulents and shrubs,
The over powering Gulmohar and magnolia,
Atop the jasmines and the bougainvilleas.
They are all there in my garden,
There is colour, there is sound, there is life, there is hope,
My piece of haven I call it,
A colourful heaven in all its right,
And a peaceful eternity in all its might.
July 29th, 2020
2nd position
Contest: Petal, Buds, Blossoms, Bees, Birds, Butterflies poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Categories:
succulents, bird, color, flower, garden,
Form:
Free verse
This quaint haven away from Seeing Eye
No sound of the loom now at nature’s call
Here on this coarse park bench in deepest fall
Gloomy clouds above threatening blue sky.
Song of the Blackbird rings out yet so shy
Speckled Thrush nags his mate in tuneful squall
Lush green lawn an ocean of food to trawl
Twisting squirming succulents soon to die.
I now will have to end this little verse
Clown on a motor mower not at peace
Feathered friends scatter to a higher place
I look to heaven now in silent curse
Back to the weaving shed and all that grease
Lunch break in tatters silence without trace.
© Harry J Horsman 2010
Categories:
succulents, nature, work,
Form:
Italian Sonnet
A lovely walk, a promenade leads the way
Burnt orange succulents stand like bushes serene
Crushed tepid deep, whitewash stirs up behind the scenes
Delightful blends of blue sky in-between
Entwined the seaweed branching out for a reach
Finely tuned trumpet sounds of swoosh on the beach
Glassy prisms beam through dark shades
Horizon blended ocean, sky, behind palisades
Intruders running 'round, sand in face
Jelly fish glow and charm with grace
Krutsinger Island, the sign reads
Lover’s bed and breakfast needs
Men and woman frolicking in the water
Naked babies cry out with laughter
Oceanic mammals creep by
Palm trees, flowing, occupy
Quietly recedes then tosses its sea
Rentals, beachcombers welcome
Surfers ride their boards for fun
Tingling with a cooling breeze
Umbrella of waves, high tides come and go
Verdant colors make for radiant seascape
Whales bellowing blow show
Xanadu paradise plan your escape
Yachting, sailing, tagging and more
Zanzibar coastal getaway tours
Categories:
succulents, beach, fun, summer, sunshine,
Form:
Abecedarian
What you see today
Might be just a fake ray
And be not as they say
Or it might just be a fake way
What you hear today
Probably has not come to stay
For who knows if it pay
Even if it comes to you in golden tray
What you taste today
If whenever in your belly it relays
Like a running train with no delay
Not every plant grows in the month of may
The path you walk today
Might just not be okay
Shouldn't or should you dance in gay
Most green succulents always become hay
Don't relent on what you see today
Listen, watch but don't take the play
If its hard carving diamonds then use clay
Never lose hope, don't let the dreams of tomorrow decay
Categories:
succulents, art,
Form:
Rhyme
In the desert, succulents sun themselves; they’ve no need to work.
Full of drink they bask; playing Opossum for predatory eyes.
Any flower, wild or in a garden, must be jealous.
Categories:
succulents, earth, environment, flower, nature,
Form:
Sijo
Culinary resonations my senses please
Blowtorch trimming the tapering of cheese
Cremated lactations dance on the fan’s breeze
Crab forks impaling young peas
Lightly dusting salt of the seas
Grindings of exotic teas
Marinades my taste buds tease
Categories:
succulents, food
Form:
Monorhyme
I see you hipsters in rustic coffee shops with pictures of Marlyn Monroe and contemporary art,
the girl in all black with a black beret to make her look more avant-garde and red colored hair that was obviously bought from a drugstore. Strolling through the downtown streets wearing swedish backpacks that are a statement piece for impracticality for they are not large enough to hold textbooks but are meant only for small sentiments of music and poetry. Their fishnet stockings that only go up a little past the ankles to be seen out of the tops of Doc Martens shining against the sips of a blue moon witbier brew. Drinking lacroix which in my opinion tastes like a substitute for watered down alka-seltzer or more like sprite without flavor. Listening to their radiohead and pink floyd and nirvana in a fervorous rage against conformity or simply riding a chill wave through the early 2000’s. The boy with his colorful button downs buttoned all the way to the very top- which is somewhat strangulation because I have tried it myself. Where they occupy their bookshelves with paperbacks of Jack kerouac and John Green while looking for Alaska on the road travelling through paper towns. I see you modern day rebels wearing your frown with a fedora or newsboy cap which never looks as good as you think they might because newsboys no longer exist like that. Beanies that hang off the back of your heads while you wait in line for your frappuccino to condense. Hanging from the ceiling are small cactuses and crystals among bouquets of dried roses and daisies. Flowers and succulents are to be cherished like baby from dirty dancing who never gets put in the corner along with the Buddha and Billie Eilish although no one ever really went through with the eightfold path because it took too damn long and besides Kurt kobain turned out to be a saint anyway.
Categories:
succulents, art, community, culture, fashion,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I take a garbage bag out to the deck
to gather the plants that have died.
I definitely don't have a green thumb
but at least you know I tried .
End of Summer and the heat has left
dead twigs where flowers once shone.
A few hardy succulents still flourish
but everything else is now gone.
I apologize to each plant as it goes
into the garbage bag at my side.
Preparing the deck for the bareness of Fall
now that Summer's blossoms have died.
Clearing the deck at the end of the Summer
is the " letting go" of the season.
I can say it's because I'm cleaning for Fall
but we know my neglect is the reason.
Categories:
succulents, autumn, flower, summer,
Form:
Rhyme
Her beauty is like an Olive tree
The roof of her hips so succulents
I will go up to the Olive tree
Milk the solace that emits from her breasts
Sleep and dine in her chamber
Come, Come, Come, Come drink of my temple she said,
Come, Come harvest my grain,
As a harvester, I broke her hallow ground
Separating the weeds from the wheat
Crawling between her leaves
She tattooed her wet lips in between my grips
As my balls melt in her longings
My diabolic streams flush into her narrow gate
The osmosis of passion and emotion
There was chaos in her holy order
Her branches rustled
A pleasurable tears cascading from chamber
As I glide in-between her streams
She sighs for more,
With my apt hoe, I prune her chamber
Conquering her body
Guess who she is talking?
She reside far in the unknown
Awoh Awoh
Categories:
succulents, allegory,
Form:
Classicism
For I awake within a dichotomous dream,
I ask what is real that the eye may gleam…
Realities regulate as the heads at the helm,
As dimensions deliberate a deceitful realm…
I walk through forests of faceless feeble time,
Nurturing nightmares of a calamitous climb…
Confronting creatures, succulents of the soul,
Upon Quantum quicksands of a nightly stroll…
I then Nova with the numinous sacred suns,
Ethereal explosions causing sacerdotal strums…
Decoratively dancing divine where Angel's trend,
Reaching the edge where some decline & descend…
All this within a differential devisable dream,
And idol illusions resonate and reign supreme…
For what is a dream without its raging reality?
Reality without dreams a sacrificial silent sea.
Feb.17.2019
I Dreamed a Dream
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 1'st...Thank You
Categories:
succulents, conflict, dream, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme