Best Verdigris Poems

Spirit of Christmastide
Beneath the mantel's alabaster gleam
Where verdigris flames pirouette 
     in cerulean ballet's beam...
We gather close—a familial love—
In hallowed halls where chimes of 
     crystal laughter stream.
Amid the yuletide glow where 
memories take flight 
a morning...

Continue reading...

As mist descended far and low, 
dark storm clouds stirred the sea. 
Upon the rocks a maiden lay, 
weep by the tide did she.
 
Fair English rose, her skin so pure, 
awash with salty dew. 
Now tarnished, long cascading hair 
once glowed a golden hue....

Continue reading...

Glowing orange, cloud coals burn
reflections into low tide evening surf,
slap lapping against scattered shells,
ripe fruits for hungry sea tramp's picking.
Itinerant thoughts, aimless as seaweed drift,
scatter like bands of sandpiper strays
on endless quest for burrowing crabs.
Peace rolling off the water, a liquid aura,
brings surcease to the...

Continue reading...

A rhapsodic delight in a carmine feathered coat,
a cardinal sits amid the verdigris limbs;
with breast puffed out
he croons lovely tones as
vibrations of harmony 
to my ears;
Ah, nature is bliss!

...

Continue reading...

Uplift the scent of stars from nightshade.
Sprinkle moondust upon unearthly skies.
Portals light up
And smile within.
Welcome to the garden of breathless night.

Swings the cedar from the country porch.
Chiming butterflies verdigris flight.
Charmed in calico dress,
Summer flirts with the best.
Nearby birdhouse-chapel whitewashed with light.

The wicker basket and hallowed...

Continue reading...

In Memoriam Quietly Always Close

Are they whispers, then, settling
So gently upon that slightest breeze wending
     Over the granite crosses and statues of cradling angels,
     Which stand in their long cemetary rows?
Stating each name of the one passed...

Continue reading...

Nature's
verdigris face
beams at waterfalls touch
evergreens drink a hearty fill
moss is abundant upon the limestone;
I sit dangling my feet in the
cool aqua-watching swans
glide lazily
along.

a taste
of springtime peace
invades my spirit with
its' lure in this place every year;
mother earth is a sweet nurturer, soft
of caress to the soul...

Continue reading...

A transcendental splendor in sepia hues,
spreads it’s woody arms across a nomadic river;
leaves of cinnamon and amber dog the landscape,
as long spectral limbs stretch to golden beams.
Here lay serenity, a breath of neutrality;
tranquility in verdigris-amber glow.
A spark of Gaia’s soul in copper caress
reflects upon the...

Continue reading...

I have a passion to hold a lamp aloft,
to capture one acre of starshine
before the sun writes a new dawn.

Rusting Chevys bloom in the half-light.
Nightjars depart on shadow wings.
Shimmering’s walk toward my window
on silver slippers.

A native mildness calls me out
to the green hollows
where poppies cling...

Continue reading...

If my heart could be unveiled
In etchings on a canvas sky,
I would have to barter with the gods
for inks richly dyed, 
ground saffron and vermilion, citrine and verdigris
could scarcely start to paint nuances of an exotic gypsy soul. 
Could they read warm tones or cold,
looking...

Continue reading...

What does it mean, to be green,
Referring to color, not politics or emotions.
There's some tints or hues, between yellows and blues;
With a lot of room, in between, for so many types of green.

There are some greens that actually say green:
Blue-green, yellow-green, light or dark green.
Other...

Continue reading...

Cascades of stretching autumn ivy
snuggle close to the verdigris hardware
of an intricately carved, but sun-bleached
walnut door under a collapsing portico.

Droplets of sweat trace jigsaw trails
through the clinging film of dirt, revealing 
the white of fluted pillars looming crookedly and
hunched by centuries of unappreciated exertion.

An eerie...

Continue reading...

Sun is brightly shining …
Minaret echoes throughout 
haze hides verdigris...

Continue reading...

Anti-Poem — “Snaking It To Venice”

(Poet’s Instruction: Play “The End” by the Doors loudly, while reading this anti-poem)

it’s you and me baby inside this gliding duster
this ’74 green plymouth cruising machine blasting
spit fire and gasoline grenades into the LA sun
snaking it to venice on the...

Continue reading...

CHI - RHO    IN  THE  BOOK OF KELLS 


A millennium and more since it left the Scottish shore,
Chi -Rho  Christ’s name 
Swirling  in an anaesthetising trance induces
The soul-memory  back  to an  isle,
Called Lorn settled by...

Continue reading...