Best Undergrowth Poems

I have the rhythm of a winding road
how do I consign myself to being confined
rows of poplar pillars prop
the rendezvous canopy beneath we meet
—I self-cajole on ooh-la-la afternoon 

yellow eyes; daffodils watching 
lean into gossip groups nodding
a prodding breeze instigating deep-freeze
I am a sweet weed...

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(after the painting by Vincent Van Gogh)


Does she even exist? Doubting her own reality,
seeing herself vanishing in undulating undergrowth,

fading and merging into summer-scorched scenery.
But cold lurks there beneath shafts of sunlight, phallic trees...

He wears the night underneath, a fabric of dark and unease,
his hand heavy...

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brushed by the blushing Fontainebleau,
   blooming with rainless foliage,
like a poem kissed by the green…
I sigh as thoughts wander
   in saffron silence,
   in the echoing warmth
of your breathing silhouette...

we are beyond wraiths of wildflowers,
   waltzing through the...

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The rush that occurs with Van Gogh’s brush.
Deep in the undergrowth, drawn to two figures.
The dappled landscape, lemon, lime and vanilla.
The close couple strolls amidst rows of trees.
The ebonic widower walks with his spectral wife.

Trees, like stick figures, reminiscent of cemetery stones.
This dreamy scene, romantic...

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An unpopulated place where 
poplars grow 
Unseen canopies expose 
tree trunks in a row 
Wildflowers swoon over 
undergrowth below 
As back to front figures
watch the panoramic show 

Lush vegetation evokes a 
spellbinding hue
With violet bark
to engrain their view
Don’t flee this forest
reality will go askew
Stay forever...

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                                      Our unnoticed actions,
    ...

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black bat flower speaks to me
invited intensity, profound propensity.
its wings and whiskers —
spooky, grotesque.
its bouquet of flowers, teeth
that devour fear,
courage to stand my ground.

it’s said, don’t linger too long
in its centerfold song.
deep darkness swallows
one whole,
an eye entrenched
in one’s soul.

blue moon or so,
a pity party,
boundary of...

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a statement in their freedom of expression
the verdant undergrowth – 
a green carpet, indispersed with yellow, white and rose flowers –
leaning away from the regimental lines of the centre lane of poplars
the tree trunks, a whimsical hue of lilac
a profound blend of renewal, early love,...

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By his hand was grown a forest
trees aligned as fence posts
trunks accentuated lavender and blue, 
but not as a spruce
and purple strokes, not disguised as prose
in a woodland cut short in proportion
somewhat a distortion of towering height
over wildflowers it stood,
sans a canopy of leaves
for the...

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Vibrant and radiant life abounds 
as lovers, sealed around devotion
thrive midst nature's care...
mindful of paradise
blest, blooming, blissful
entrusted to their stewardship
for functional optimization
they both are committed to fulfill
since trees and vegetation witnessed...
the Creator exhorted them to
"Go and multiply."*

*Genesis 1:28 And God blessed them, and God said...

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flowers crush under their own weight - it's how the end slides in

widened perspectives tell us more of the same

deep thinking root claustrophobia as the treetop remains out of sight

we are not the centre - we just have tunnel vision

always seeing too much or too...

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In the undergrowth of passion...

discovery appears...

If we dare to dig deep enough...

...the secrets will be shared...

...Upon recognising our find...
...we deliver more of kind...

Sometimes avert the tyranny...
choose to leave this all behind...

Simplistic in our values...
reciprocate - (maybe)...

Ploughing on regardless...

for fault may not lay in me...

The truth,...

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Tranquil Undergrowth  

Tranquil Undergrowth so slowly grows
And hides the tiny timeless leaves of life
Arrows spring forth on sunlight bows
Joined by birds of green and white in flight
Piercing bursting life into the light

Golden butterflies glisten in the new suns birth
Untangling night from day
From covered secrets...

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A couple stands side by side in a woods
among the tall slender trunks of many trees
lifting high to the sky, 
the unseen crowns of which
I can only imagine.

The man and woman’s feet 
are planted on ground
wildly overrun by white and yellow flowers
which seemingly have bloomed...

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Funnily it is the shame of sham that shampoo runs away down a drain. Oh dear. What an absolute disaster for the many supporting bottles bearing differing names. Nevertheless it is the revered gel that will last in its cast of sachet. No problems with...

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