Best Tending Poems

A Rose that’s planted in the rocky earth
that, from the summer sun, is parched and dry,
will seldom bloom to its full beauty’s worth
and soon will sadly whither up and die.

A Rose that’s planted ‘mongst the common weeds
and left untended, sad and on her own,
neglected in...

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Dear God you gave me Eden
With a wealth of flower seeds;
But when you planned my garden
Why did you add the weeds?

Was it to keep me grounded
And down upon my knees?
A time to count my blessings
Ignore small ills like these?

It’s another of life’s lessons
We each have...

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Foregone is my freedom
My future and it's conclusion
My most detached relationship
To myself now subject
To scathing privately
In installments with you.

Now I confided
“He tends a garden”

How was I to express
Without existential anguish
This irrational leap of faith?
Subjugated or subsidized
It bankrupted my reason
So far-gone was my longing

I was invited...

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Sparks white-hot nestled in embers
Your eyes curtain-off the flames
Ice cold as late-December
Turn up the heat to play your games

Push me harder for rent, honey
Your heart, I thought a home
To a skeleton, everywhere is sunny
And today I mean to pick a bone

Fury tempered towards open grievance
Flaws...

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Last night, in a most ***** dream, I saw my garden
Never as I would have dared imagine it
It was alive, breathing and was the place where there was a great happening
A party, yes, a party, of a most wondrous kind
Enjoyed by tiny people
People our eyes...

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Grins
Happy
Spirited
Children playing,
Their soul will enliven as my heart smiles.

But a child crying with a sad-face frown,
Shatters my joy.
Dreadfully.
Until
Grins

© July 22, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest:  "Smiles and Frowns 
Sponsored by: Michael J. Falotico...

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ON TENDING THE GREAT ANCESTRAL FIRES

Here lies the residue
Of an old fire
Long gone
Dry—Ashes 
Left to the whelms
Of raindrops to dampen
Into a useless mush—
Or for the wind to blow
Aimlessly to nowhere;
Wet and immobile
Or blowing dry in the wind,
Useless are cold ashes.

Here, scattered among the warm ashes,
Lay...

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Unexpected blooms
leap to the gardener's eyes.
Planned ones wait their turn....

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Tending Tapestry’s Tenter

Resilience reticent reverberations receding revelations roaming
Resolving residual revolutions resentment reset reposing rest

		Puzzling perceptions poet’s perspective Peace

Agency anticipation an arrays’ arrangement alive assorted aims
Antipode’s adjoining assiduous adaptations anchoured attached

		Wily words wildly withheld with watchman’s wake

Contingency contextual concussion colluding caressing carefully
Confused contusion collaborating consequential contra-points...

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th'oughts...such as
if's and's or maybe's

are the...yes/no's bull
buts that fertilize growth

in/of...concepts soil
gardens in/from which

realities grow...as internal
reflections within the temporary spinnings

of...times space-current eddy-effects
of the unseen natural 'mechanics' of cause

that is known to us only as the...probability
of change consistency with respect our blindness

to that potential...of/for a/some
commonality to/between all...

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I tend the flowers I keep
 even in winter's chilly sleep
bulbs well protected from the winds of the north
 anxious to burst and blossom forth
and bloom radiant displays 
 thru winter ice and cold arrays.

A tiny crocus, a thick hyacinth, young snowdrops
 stretch their green...

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Just by amassing 

a plethora of material goods in life 

without tending his spiritual needs

one 

can never succeed in enriching his 

soul !  









© Demetrios Trifiatis
     15 February 2014...

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Mother's
Day


Roses
I
gave


Who
tends
your
grave
but
I...

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A Watered Garden

In the wonderful “Gospel” of Isaiah
in the testaments that were written of old
God spoke of His living water
which is more precious to Him than pure gold.

Our soul can be as a watered garden
you can see how beautiful they truly are
well kept and tenderly...

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The farmer stands with weathered hands,
Tending soils, nurturing the lands.
His heart beats with the Earth's own song,
Though seasons shift and days grow long.

Through drought and storm, he does not break,
For in the soil, his dreams awake.
A quiet strength, both firm and kind,
A bond with nature...

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