Best Vetch Poems
What's not to love about a summer day?
Kissed by the sun, the warmth of its embrace
To feel the cleanse from sweat at work and play
While honeysuckle breezes cool my face
With hillsides blanketed in purple vetch
Magenta morning glories and light blues
Imagine all the butterflies they fetch
A scene to romance any poet's muse
But when it gets too hot, I seek the shade
Barefoot in clover 'neath tall sycamores
Or take a watermelon down to wade
A spring fed creek, to cool, while I explore
That evening, in the swing, I watch fireflies
Then pray I wake to see one more sunrise
May 9 - 2018
Daniel Turner
The Glass Eye
My window is an eye on the morning stretch.
Raspy green grasses tangle up in the vetch.
A mama quail runs down the soft red clay path.
Her fat round babies edged to the drain for a bath.
I see the hill slope up in poppy and craggy oak.
One lone gray cloud trails on cobalt blue, like smoke.
The sounds of a barn owl are near but it hides,
And only my window can find where it resides.
Then finally, the children dance by on to school.
The window knows innocence here in the rural.
A giggle, a shout, dropping books as they race,
The bus winks lights, on the knoll, in its place.
My window blinks back with it's stare of the hill;
Its shimmer reflects our morning time drill.
The eyelash curtains brush back with the breeze,
I turn to my paper, and coffee, and do as I please.
By Edlynn Nau
© April 20, 2016
FEEDING HORSES
She was four years old
Apples in bulging pockets from garden trees
Cold day in autumn
Stroll down to Paddy Sands’s horse pasture
Stop at five-bar gate and lift her up
Call or whistle - they come from a half-kilometre
Black, brown mares, one gelding
Jealous one tries to bite the others
Jostling for position at the gate
All those soft soft noses.....
They will permit stroking
If fed enough handfuls of grass
Grass tastes better from our hands
Than when cropped by them,
(Especially with tiny flowers of blue vetch).
Their big brown eyes close up
So peaceful and trusting
Tempting furry ears just out of reach for her
Turning cold now after half an hour
Spoil them with our apples before we go home
Show her how to hold back her thumb
So it doesn’t get bitten.
Walk home through Sands’s cropped hayfield
To tea and biscuits.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written for Carol Brown's Contest "A Horse Story"
THE PASSIONLESS REVOLUTIONARY
A ragged impulse – the scrivener’s tetch
truncated our conversation on the working
class. Your brief was their craft
was their art, which liberation lost
to them: mine was an impounded version
of the waggoner’s instance, the vetch
caught up in the wheel, thus anneal
the war on wills, the writer’s mockery.
Justice, your fruitless wand and weal
is power to blow the thrust of the argument
over the innocent sweet scatterbrained
head of your sister. The lace-
maker’s art has a hand in this, but
like fingerless gloves, makes raw vision blind.
published IN MEMORY OF HER, Dublin 2008
Wicke / Vetch / La arveja
Blüten der Wicke
Wie kleine Schmetterlinge
So violett leuchtend
Flowers of the vetch
Like little butterflies
In shiny purple
Flores de arveja
Pequeñas mariposas
Brillante violeta
FLIGHTS OF FANCY PHRASIS 3
Blossom of baby's breath,soft white
gorse,crusted yellow, weeping willow
rush patterned lace pastures a pastel green.
Buttercup,daisy&comely cowslip mingle
&mix in fellowship swaying pelts of grass
with purple vetch & ribwort plantain,clover
in English rain.Scabious,burnets butteflies
and bees hawthorn and scented woodruff.
Briar brambles sprawl,in dogrose so tall
above harts-tongue.
Seabank with scattered seaweed &
feathery fennel in aniseed;Alexander’s
leaves so green this tender cusine.
Welcome wholesome fat hen,vibrant
shoots the vimen in Lamb’s lettuce
in Jack-in-the-hedge in wild radish,
cress&chive,where majoram &sweet
cicely thrive.Seabeet,and chard also survive.
Wild parsnip the confectioner,tansy to savour.
Stinging nettles so green,peppermint oil
pick-me-up, in coltsfoot syrup cup.
From Flights of Fancy 2003
Listen to me recite this part phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthys chiro
Buttercup,daisy and cowslip
Together mix in fellowship;
Swaying pelts of grasses fine
Bask in Spring sunshine.
Purple vetch,ribwort plaintain
Jostle lush clover in English rain;
Scalious,burnets protude,
Butterflies gorge their pollen food.
Hawthorn dense and tough
Amidst sweet scented woodruff;
In rambled briar sprawl
Prickly and wandering tall.
Prayer, a tide of washing's wane
confers rancor's disdain
that when a spirit fastens me
upon annoyance lame,
the bitter vetch is carried off
like dust per aft the rain,
and I am saved to fill the cup
of Holiness again.
But when my mind is so filled up
with worry and proclaim
I only hear the goading sup,
that lengthens with its gain
and so my spirit is vexed abrupt
and I react in vain,
to curse the vestige interrupt
that fills me with its pain.
To curse that cursed thought destruct
my goodness is its aim
Oh, Godly giving, pray construct
relief from mortal strain.
Unique Nature zone
A Blissful Calm Dusk,East From Green Hills;
Imbedded Jungle;Kale,Legume,Mahogany;
Naturalized odious Paddock;Qualifies Red Sun.
...The Unique Vetch with Xerophytes Yielding Zone.
N.B:Xerophytes are plants that can survive in an environment,such
as the desert,where water supply is scarce.
Follow the track with the scenic view,
into the wood with a carpet blue.
Between clumps of gorse in yellow garb,
along a path baked summer hard.
Around shadu ponds that teem with life,
rush and sedge amidst tall loose strife.
Into the meadow,a country stile,
contemplating I sit awhile.
2020 version
Blossom of baby's breath
soft white gorse
crusted yellow
weeping willow
rush patterned lace
pastures
a pastel green
Buttercup, daisy&comely cowslip
mingle&mix
in fellowship
swaying pelts of grass
with purple vetch &
ribwort plantain
Hawthorn &
scented woodruff
briar brambles sprawl
in dogrose so tall
above
harts-tongue
in
English rain
Purple vetch and ribwort plantain
Jostle lush clover in English rain
Dogrose dotted on a briared sprawl
prickly as it meandrs tall
Speaking volumes of words,unheard
Spring,flowers,in which all senses merge
buttercup daisy
&
cowslip
swaying pelts
of grasses
bask in Spring
purple vetch
ribwort plaintain
lush clover
in English rain
scalious burnets
protude
hawthorn
dense and tough
sweet scented woodruff
hearts tongue
divided frond
circle &stop
spined point
rambled briar
sprawl
prickly &
wandering tall.
Blossom of baby's breath,soft white gorse,crusted yellow, weeping willow rush patterned lace pastures a pastel green.Buttercup,daisy&comely cowslip mingle
&mix in fellowship swaying pelts of grass with purple vetch & ribwortplantain, clover in English rain.Scabious,burnets buttefliesand bees hawthorn and scented woodruff.Briar brambles sprawl,in dogrose so tall above harts-tongue The thinking eye,the abstract made visible a spatial convergence ,now liberated.
Imaginary ,incomplete feelings,beacons of vivacity,profound and positive.Intense inner sounds,a polyphony,the poet's soul,unfazed&free.Seabank with scattered seaweed & feathery fennel in aniseed;Alexander’s leaves so green this tender cusine.Welcome wholesome fat hen,vibrant shoots the vimen in Lamb’s lettuce in Jack-in-the-hedge in wild radish,cress&chive,where majoram &sweet cicely thrive.Seabeet,and chard also survive.Wild parsnip the confectioner,tansy to savour.Stinging nettles so green,peppermint oil pick-me-up, in coltsfoot syrup cup.
By Fatmir Terziu
The vetch of autumn awoke me. Tears of Peace
crawling on the Scythian glass
left its grey charm,
hastily gaining a stealthy hand
over the darkened face of the sky,
then instantly signing
for less darkness.
Arrogant over the Thames,
the toothless sun appeared
like a moving Persian rug,
in order to dust off the Tears of Peace.
Designs with dark-brown cords
took over my window,
ropes were tied on the door,
it was simply a vision.
Tears of Peace had settled on the eyelids,
specially to tickle me,
tears are not as in fairy-tales,
peaceful even when they move.
PERPETUAL PETALS
The
bouquet
of autumn,
lasts but a short
while-
but
real
flowers live-
that spring from our
soul
to
sprinkle
here and there
in posies of
love-
such
coloured
aromas,
garland others'
day
SPRING
Purple vetch and ribwort plantain
Jostle lush clover in English rain
Dogrose dotted on a briared sprawl
prickly as it meandrs tall
Speaking volumes of words,unheard
Spring,flowers,in which all senses merge
FLOWERS OF THE FIELD
Daisy,buttercup,yellow cowslip
together mix in fellowship
MUTED
Silent,
nature's flowers
with which all senses merge-
become a dialogue with words
unheard.
SYMBOLIC INTUTION
She
moved the
empiric
into abstract
form
from
above
and beyond
the natural
view-
a
close-up
of flowers
in magnified
bloom
Ekphrasis tribute to Georgia O'Keeffe
LOVELIER than LILAC structured prose
Along the primrose path,passion flowers
luminous beauties all of a flutter,true,
natural and gentle on the stream of time.
This drift of time fashions silence into
words,silent thoughts.flowers of perfect
speech by wayside haunts.Sights sounds
and secrets so full of sweet song.
Songs of picture poetry chasing shadows
in an eclectic amalgam ,lovelier than lilac
FLOWERY WORDS
Meadowsweet & wiilow herb
and forget-me-nots
Blue,white,green & yellow
Wild flowers in abundance
Pastel shade my garden plot
LITTLE PIECES OF HEAVEN
Flowers to us,may teach
as to them,our fingers reach,
of God's love,they preach
Flowers to us,so bright
colours to fill our sight,
reveal to us,God's delight
Flowers each day to inspire,
igniting poetic fire,
God's poiema,never tire
Flowers,that smell so sweet,
good enough for us to eat,
'til that day,God we'll meet
Changed in a moment,our bodies too
on that earth and heaven, new
inspired by Christina Rossetti poem Lillies of the field