Best Verdancy Poems
How I love the sky, the sea and land.
Today I paint myself into a scene
of visual delight; though I'm on sand,
I dip my brush first into vivid green.
Tall trees are in my view far left and right.
I paint the path made out of stones that led
me to this beach which now is my escape!
I paint the sand, then dip into some red!
I'm all alone in my red bikini.
I like the fact that it’s in contrast to
the white of sand and forest’s verdancy.
But, oh, the backdrop is amazing blue!
My picture’s top half is the sea. Beyond
its tranquil surface, now my eyes are drawn
to hues of brightness of which I am fond
as twilight’s sky I am adding on.
Some tangerine with crimson I have swirled
onto the canvas, and the red’s the same
as my bikini! Finally, this world
I've been painting I inscribe with my name!
10/21/17
Categories:
verdancy, art,
Form:
Quatrain
Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay -
from the poem 'Under the canopy of pine trees by Eve Roper
UNDER THE CANOPY
Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay.
Fervent scent gives undertow noses a heady sway.
Four eyes closed, we swallow the coniferous forest.
Love thrives in our paradisiacal protraction of rest.
Blinded to adversity, verdancy thrives in aurora splay
As our minds run into the river of sunlight to play.
We make promises — nothing sovereign outside our love.
He squeezes my hand, our engagement rings think of
Only this moment, the splendor of our crashing lips.
Our bodies envelope each other like an eclipse.
The force of nature — the arcadian elixir, its bliss.
I shall nevermore forget the chill of reminisce.
4/10/2020
Poetic lines from a Poetry Soup Poet - Eve Roper Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Silent One
Categories:
verdancy, beauty, love, nature, senses,
Form:
Couplet
With verdancy surrounding me, I wish to spin
around this world of endless spring that I am in.
Bewitched am I by forests, hills, and fields of green.
If nature is a woman, here she loves to preen
in emeralds whose splendor I’ve so seldom seen
as I revel in our drive out to the ocean.
Winding roads we travel with a zig-zag motion.
Where land weds water, we breathe a magic potion.
How I love this gorgeous shoreline of Oregon.
We come upon a beach, so I’m expecting fun,
But sky does not comply, and now we’ve lost the sun!
I also notice once-blue sky has changed to grey.
How happy I had been to spend time at the bay,
but wind and chilly weather bring my heart dismay.
The water feels so cold! I pull my sweater tight.
I can’t lie on my blanket soaking in sun’s light.
Oh, I long to jump some waves! This just isn’t right.
Wasted beauty can’t be felt warm upon my skin!
Bewitched am I by forests, hills, and fields of green
as I revel in our drive out to the ocean.
How I love this gorgeous shoreline of Oregon.
I also notice once-blue sky has changed to grey
The water feels so cold! I pull my sweater tight.
Wasted beauty can’t be felt warm upon my skin!
Written July 5, 2016 for The Crown of Couplets Contest
Judged July 30, 2016 and now used
for the I Got Zero, Nothing, Nada- 2 Poetry Contest of Broken Wings
Categories:
verdancy, beach, beauty,
Form:
Couplet
Yearly - for a spell - I come calling,
not unexpected.
But there are times my travel may be slow.
On such rare occasions when I’m late,
you’ll look and see the mountains’ crowns
remain uncovered,
and in the valley, meadow grasses
dance with gentle breezes,
reveling in verdancy prolonged.
Other times, I roll across the prairie bellowing.
Assassin of startled vegetation,
I wield a force God-given,
and even dry terrain, where soil is sand,
might feel the touch of my icy hand.
And though I be unwelcome,
I’m certain there’s a moment
you look out on a pristine field
where I have softly laid my eider down
or to a street now silenced
that strangely gleams in peaceful white.
Or maybe you gaze up at stately mountains’
lovely snow-capped crowns,
and in that tranquil moment,
you are awed.
For John Freeman's "the Pictures of winter Poetry Contest"
Categories:
verdancy, nature
Form:
Free verse
My open-ended lines can convey more than one idea. Verse 3, middle line, ends in “I am.” I am both okay (today) & puddles on pavement.
whispering birds through wind and light rain
no drama of wildly flapping wings & lightning
sweetness in covered tones, under umbrella
mine is red and white, candy-striped, mint
moment at the beach, ebbed into tall mug
heat of cream & coffee steam my a.m. lens
just peachy in mid-May, Mother’s Day past
don’t have to pretend to be okay today, I am
puddles on pavement, swirls of mud and moss
sounds of Spring tympanic, tinkling & symbolic
dull day, verdancy not at all bright, nice chill
still those tweets invite a kiss of heart, mind, soul
louder tweets, grow, not as mad as thunder, tow
not of under, nor rip; chorus of natural sequence
and consequence, harmonious, non-disclosure
biddies somewhere are moving their beaks
cheeky in gossiping, speaking curses not kisses
only man intentions to kill, imagines the hearse
be sweet, as proverbial pie; as best homemade honey
don’t terrify anyone with a storm of marmite words
lightly flap your wings to visit the poor in your dreams
thoughts cohabitate with nature, change moment
to moment, pierced and pecked synchronization
not numbed out by a blinding sheet of buffeting sound
Categories:
verdancy, morning, rain,
Form:
Free verse
Child play. Dawn, as a wind-up toy,
jumping up and down, keen.
A buoyant verdancy of joy -
waking up fresh and green.
Waking up fresh and green.
The ivy…the oaks and weeps.
On the salient morning I lean.
Whatever this day…it is for keeps.
Wiping tears and sand from ducts.
The ascension of the sun display.
Pink and purple passion constructs.
I hit my knees, look up and pray.
I hit my knees, look up and pray.
A humble approach - prism of self
seen through Christ - in Him I stay.
To deep dive today, I entrust myself…
To deep dive today, I entrust myself,
into God’s faithful word. The good news,
sharp and alive, off my bookshelf,
With Christ, my hope, I’ve nothing to lose.
Whatever this day…it is for keeps.
There is one who shapes each cockcrow.
I know my Lord and Savior never sleeps.
His faithfulness - dawn’s enduring glow.
6/1/2023
Categories:
verdancy, morning,
Form:
Rhyme
"Green is nature’s poetry."
"Green – the magical canvas of nature."
"Green gives the calm we need in this world full of chaos."
~ Shilpa Ahuja (all 3 quotes)
"Green is the fresh emblem of well-founded hopes."
~ Mary Webb
Nature's poetry is green,
Blazing in the leaves,
It makes the heart feel serene,
The mind, calm receives;
Green is canvas magical,
Where God paints the trees,
Vast verdancy radical
Cool the eyes and please;
Emblem of well-founded hopes,
Green is Spring's first blush,
The fresh grass that grows on slopes,
Decked with dew looks lush;
When we see an emerald,
The pulse beats faster,
Green does excite and herald
"Hand of the Master".
Categories:
verdancy, green, inspiration,
Form:
Quatrain
"The forest is a sanctuary where you can grow to be you," ... by the Poet.
The passing of a torch, when Spring was announced,
was noted in the melting quarter of winter memories, as a sun climbs in
its forgiving rays; hoping its extent will favor the many listless foliage
that shy away the hours and that will soon purify vividly.
A forest is a sanctuary of admirable heights,
indelible spreads in the reach of golden beams.
The nurturing glow is a blessed welcoming, as glimmerings of first light,
and in its duration;
at the lower regions,
are duly usual reliance on root's deep hold of the earth
will stabilize their stature.
The lesser herbage of lowly pinnacles beneath shades of tree boughs
whereby the sun's light skips and winks a trace of them, is nevertheless
enriched with nutrients that will foster its growth.
These passionate plantings in harsh spotty sites amid forested trees are all
functions of the grand scheme of nature at its finest. Two, of the three
sanctuaries, the Flora, is known as the greater of the living greeneries.
The Funga is the lesser of the verdancy of the woods' life.
Then there are the incidentals of nature, and their animated interactions known as the third sanctuary; the Fauna. They soar, stride, slide, and swim.
Most move free of incidents, and others, not quite so. It's the
beast of the jungle that rules. They set them, and when broken,
there will be consequences. It is the pattern set by nature for the cycle of life.
One life dies as a gift for another to live. These are the rigid realities of the
woodlands, though not limited here,
but relevant beyond this sanctuary's realm.
The entrance of Spring seasons well the vibrancy of greens evolving greener.
Anticipative varieties of colorful flowers can survive the thick overhangs
of a forest.
Fauna, or animal life forms, infest these regions generously.
Spring here in the forested jungles is no different from the expressed lands
beyond its perimeters.
The Wicket of Spring has opened its forest sanctuary.
Categories:
verdancy, animal, bird, creation, fish,
Form:
Free verse
I had nearly forgotten who I was
Until I sensed your easy strength
and heard the timelessness
of your years;
Until I caught the sparkle
of your lacy light
and showered
in your fragrance
Until I recognized your verdancy
jumping the primal circuit.
Categories:
verdancy, nature, spiritual, tree,
Form:
Free verse
Lured by the dulcet song of a lark perched
On the low-hanging limb of a blossoming tree, around which
Violets had sprung in wild beauty among the verdancy as if
Embroidering the lush long meadow grasses, I
Lingered, while the ballerina breeze lightly danced flowers’ fragrance to me.
Imbued with the luminescence of a
New day’s dawn, the nearby lake was sparkling.
Elysian my whole world seemed, enveloping me in
Splendor, so I stayed, lazing in the sun, listening to the
Susurrus wind and the lark’s sweet serenade.
Written Feb. 17, 2016
Categories:
verdancy, beauty,
Form:
Acrostic
I asked the desert
to carry me from this place
of the Qubbanet El-Qirud’ infertile soil
suddenly, that whisper of wind
took my hand, and walked
along and alone with me
I, heard a voice, in tones of angels
“we see your beautiful life within”
one that we do not understand
yet, I do not remember this life
as having beauty
I see a life that I have
wasted thoroughly; jealously
and unrighteousness ruled
my empty daze, before
this; please do something
do look closely into me
I asked this of both the angels
and my desert friend
the desert smiled…
as all of Heaven’ Angels
swooned and said, “your life,
from infinity you have come”
an infinite and [i'n(y)o?om?r?b?l]
probability, willingly mixing
yourself in all particles of life; you are of
infinite scintillae; that blend
into; the “special purpose”; that you
is urbane, decipherable, and vestal
becoming a fertile soil, to accept
those ill wills and innumerable sins
of humanity, all whom have broken the trust
of that which was given…
impurity therefore, is humankind’ “Portae Lucis”
for in the realization of;
you gain your last chance
for a one time, "Contact with Eternity"
you are but dirty and
impure and infertile; I, have cried
upon my friend; this barren desert
begging to become, a participle
of a fertile land; enabled to produce
squalls and outcomes, and sublimed sulfur
I will enjoy, these powerful urges, these
lovingly nudged immoralities within me
and when, I finish with the each of you
I shall enjoy a long and lovely “Desert Sorcery”
verdancy, will be the [?ks'pe? tri?e?t] of thee
across this entire Earth; out of me
the sons and daughters of inequity will be judged
and their eternal ends will be welcomed
each of those who is as Adam, and Eve; will be left
out of a home, upon this Eden’ mothered globe
you, who have made burgoo of your lives
know this to be your truth
those who have suffered the dirt and impurity
of the oppressors will be made free, instantaneously!
Oh my lord! Once again, remake me as thee!
and reproduce me, as the very last; God Particle!
Categories:
verdancy, analogy, inspirational, psychological, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
bathed in such splendor
in front of us blue water -
verdancy behind
how very cold it is though
like ice, it cuts to the bone
this frigid beauty
I let my eyes feast on it
ignoring the cold
the scent of pine is wafting
I breathe in tranquility
breathing in fragrance
I let the iciness go
my love shall warm me
the fresh trees and ocean air
can’t compare to his sweet warmth
July 14, 2017 for the Contest of John Anderson
Categories:
verdancy, nature,
Form:
Tanka
(To one’s Birthplace)
In the glory of the morning
just to see the sunrise
take the place of the moon,
at this time I love the best
this memory this place truly blest.
Through the ages one had not forgotten
blue skies some that turned to grey,
knowing one day we’ll meet again
in this land that holds no sway.
Yes indeed I need to walk again
within the balmy moor,
meet my reflection from the past
sense once more locked away happiness.
Hear the dawn chorus of the song thrush
a rendition of a morning tide trill,
that seemed to say
‘forever I love you’.
Visit the old cottage in the dale
where one’s sensibility sweeps,
like the spring clean broom
upon a naive childhood.
Relive the chasteness
of dandelion seeds floating
in the warmth of dancing light,
spreading the message of rebirth.
Walk amidst the mist that mingled in ceremony
a subdued veil upon conformity,
stumble across sinews of dewy tears
glistening within verdancy.
Endure the reverberation
of rhythmic waters
over moss riddled rocks
beneath the old stone railway bridge.
Meander again upon the hillsides
where meadows collide in dishevelled jade
and one’s over indulgence
of ‘Pure Nostalgia’
cements a portrait of foreverness!
© Harry J Horsman 2010
Categories:
verdancy, love, old,
Form:
Free verse
From my bay window, each pane holds my small world
window leaks anticipation out and in this glassy casement
here seasons show their multi-colored faces in a whisper
Trees liberated from weight of their leaves, I eavesdrop...
wintertime's icy snowflakes tint my windows with glacial frost
a cold paralysis edges over my fingers
All that is past…
my windowpanes grow then shrink conditionally
wintry days take flight under my breath
for now, spring passion comes bursting as beautiful tableau...
Oh look,
squirrel flashes up toward his tree nest hidden in oak verdancy
he carries a corn cob to eat
does it taste of salt and melted butter?
A bird house on the nearby maple feeds my feathery neighbors
don’t tell--but the cardinals are hatching three crimson chicks
listen, the chirp, chirp, chirp... a natural but alluring annoyance
Newly mown bouquet of grass wafts into my room
this essence returns me to a time eating warm rhubarb pie
while watching Grandpa mow our lawn
April showers bring an array of wonderment
a pretty teen girl walks under her bright paisley umbrella
of course, matching raincoat and galoshes… such fun to see
My goodness… alert… alert... feline at six o’clock anticipating
cardinals to take wing for worms; feline slithers toward chicks
what a clever bird... he swoops down squawking at the cat
Life leaps out at me now, casting shadows
no matter--if you are out and about,
come size up the earth
through my window
Categories:
verdancy, beauty, change, home, spring,
Form:
Free verse
*Image of Beautiful Spring by APK.
First Day of Spring
Meadow
larks mesmerize
these longer days, as those
hibernates wake to furry hops
near verdancy, neath warmth of rays or rains,
newness absorbs a pass-over,
facing nature's depth midst
flower-patterned
meadow.
2023 January 15
Pen a Rictameter, Hopes of springs return
~~M. L. Kiser
*HMS.
Categories:
verdancy, spring,
Form:
Rictameter