Best Thistle Poems
I have briefly caught sight of the other side of yesterday,
blinded by the sun, while running barefoot across a field of thorns
I'll carve a path through weeds and stones, to reach a childhood memory.
Inspired by Andrea's Contest: Glorious Sijo Fields
1/31/15
Resubmitted for Brian Strand's Contest: # 201
I am the
Scot's thistle
The emblem of my
proud country it has
been our valiant
pride for so
many years
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The thistle has been the national emblem of Scotland
since the reign of Alexander III (1249 - 1286) and was
used on silver coins issued by James III in 1470.
According to the legend, an invading Norse army was
attempting to sneak up at night upon a Scots army
encampment. During this operation one barefoot Norseman
had the misfortune to step upon a Scots Thistle,
causing him to cry out in pain, thus alerting Scots
to the presence of the Norse invaders.
My entry into Deborah Guzzi's " Oh, what a Shape I'm in! " contest.
Not easy doing the above, i nearly went cross eyed.
Thistle's when i'm prickly down
Upon your silky pappus.
Ither on over
Your showy
Purple flower head.
Onorpordum Acanthium
Is where i quencheth
On the pointed end
Of a prickspur
Not knowing the time.
Build me a mountain of uncertainty,
A stone of distant fears
Find me an army of losses
And empty hopes,
Some cluster of aimless hours to call my own.
Teach me about heartache and closed doors.
A broken way with nothingness in every direction.
Create in me a heavy heart,
full of misunderstandings and distrust
to keep me hurt and forever confused.
I don't want for much
Being just a simple man
My love i wish to share
To show her who i am
The touch of this man
Will serenade your skin
The touch of his lips
And you will start to begin
To open up your heart
And welcome him home
To hold him in your arms
So he will no longer roam
To look into your blue eyes
As in his arms he holds you tight
Know he'll be here tomorrow
And with you every single night
The want in my loving heart
Just grows and grows and grows
The desire to share my love
For this Thistle and his Rose
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-8.php
I parked along the side of the road
where the shoulder turned to gravel.
I left my cardoor open, thinking I’d only be a moment.
Into the golden weeds I trudged
to find my favorite flower.
Bull thistle bloomed
violet,
jewels aloft on green scepters,
as rich as Sappho’s hair,
as rare as royal Phoenecian robes dyed with conch,
long stems twinkling with acid, as green as the intellect.
I will have a garden of thistles,
a court of purple pixies, prickly sprites that know all the names of the wind.
They will surround artichokes that bloom,
great aubergine tassels
that hold back the great curtain of soil.
I continued through the grass,
burs clinging to my pants like dreams,
the musical warning of the open door
fading in the distance.
March 20, 2020
Wild Country Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
The gentle petals of a rose, the finest and fairest of all blooms
With no other does it compare, its stems thorns should protect from harm
Its scent lingers on so those that pass blindly cant fail to miss
The princess of English flowers, leaves an imprint on my mind and heart that will
never fade
In contrast, from colder climes, a thistle stands alone
A symbol of a nation, of home, a far cry from perfection, and apart from reality
It stands in solitude, untouchable by its own protection and provides only a
glimpse of charm
The pride of Scotland, for in our hearts we fight and in loneliness it grows
So who would think that side by side two blooms could thrive, together but apart
And who would say that the thistle and the rose were matched, to be as one
The spikes and thorns have, and always will, cause pain for those caught within
their grasp
But always and forever do their souls entwine, the pain endured, worth the
pleasure given.
Spread not thy love
like thistle down
upon the errant wind
For thy knows not
where thy seed lands
or what is shall portend
Instead lie close
to garden gate
To hearth, kith and kin
Lie just with she
who holds thy heart
where love ends and begins
HIDDEN AMONG THE ROSES
by Jeanette Jones based on Portrait No 10,
Thistle in a Field, by Fidelia Bridges 1875
HIDDEN AMONG THE ROSES
This field full of roses,
what a vision.
Rows of primary and secondary
colors, streaming, at least a mile.
Among them the solitary thistle.
Beauty is the rose,
its spikes as the thistle,
that bows to hands that caress
it with love, along the way.
In this field of thorny ones,
though never chosen,
it receives a lot of love.
Charming in contentment
is the thistle among the roses.
A summer living free,
Hearing not a plea,
Of any trouble,
Passing the rubble,
Of yesterday,
I live today,
Tomorrow,
My sorrow,
Will stay in place,
Away from my face,
So utter joy may reign,
To keep away the pain,
That creeps,
Delight seeps,
Into my mind,
And I can find,
The beauty in a thistle.
Strangling Thistle
Puff grey smoke strings pollute the sky.
Dull minds remain deaf to vigilant whistle,
distracted by the flower of strangling thistle,
while time silently passes on by.
Youth in a basement getting high.
“I'm just doing my job” says an official.
Thirteen percent towards government missiles.
Dehumanize, and silence opposing cries.
Lift up your brother consumed by hate.
Stand your ground in moral conviction,
Natural law will rain from above.
Free will forever dancing with fate.
Now is the time to change our condition.
Choose to create from a place of love.
Sword flashing fire flows
leap lurch land on pipe led toes
Down hill slicing foes
The title comes from Scotland's flower
The picture is a young wild clansman
with a shiny wet sword
led by bagpipes like a wind blown thistle seed
A good friend once told me that kingfishers know the secrets of the universe
But dear friend, what about this moorhen on the rivers verge?
And as I sit and wonder what my moorhen thinks
Around me dance bright thistles of pink
A river ripple rides the collected current
Long green reeds exist with no need to repent
A family of mice not ever so nice
But look at that face, too cute not to embrace
So my precious moorhen, tell me what you know
There must be more to life than gluttony and sorrow
More to life than anger, pride and lust
Tell me please, it's such a must
My sweetheart moorhen don't swim the day
While I sit here wondering my life away
Drinking milk, a flood of calcium in hopes of growing
Luminescent glowing pearl, your love a grain of sand.
My heart slows, knowing it will not sustain this
Frantic pace, racing away from you blindly
When you speak unkindly.
Won’t this magic coalesce? I’m a swine, now where’s mine?
I want to form one ‘round this formless soul, this
Strained muscle that keeps beating itself against your walls.
You laugh at my fumbling metaphors, toss your hair and
Suddenly not there.
It’s a thistle, grown around my healing heart, to ward off
Eager careless hands. Demands upon it will not stand.
Alone it stands until it blossom’s in the Spring,
The sting of cruelty long forgotten, memories of
Misbegotten days.
How I long to forget you, dear. To not see your face
Whenever I close my eyes. Forget your whispers, laugh,
and sighs. I close my eyes. This lingering appetite for
All that stills me, all that kills me, won’t be denied.
Have I died?
Drugs and alcohol, morphine and regret, a strange cocktail
Mixed in a broken glass. Cigarettes burn, I can’t forget. I
Yearn for that sting, the pain you bring, it cannot end until
I die. You are my life support. Am I strong enough
To pull the plug?
From the thistle and vine
From the thicket of thorn
Into the light of the morning
Out from the briar patch, gone
In a flicker of light
Into the glimmer of dawn
Slipping out at the daybreak
With the rise of the sun
In the ticking of time
From the clock on the wall
Ring the bells of a new day
Sing the words of this song
As the cripple creek winds
Along the bend in the road
Through the cut of the canyon
Through the layers of stone
In the literal mind
Of the words as they're known
Comes the turn of a new phrase
Twisted off an old one
Down from the rain in the sky
Onto the earth where it falls
Through the Rock of the Ages
Through the Roll of the Souls
In the blink of an eye
In the wink of one more
Slipping back in the nightfall
By the light of the stars
Bring the whistle and rhyme
Into the twisted knot hole
Another day in a lifetime
Back to the briar patch, gone