Best Wilts Poems
~It's Out There~
Green colored field
A flower without the sun
Wilts from distrust
now washed away
by the man storm
~*~
“A Flowers Wilt”
Witness the small existence
that abides the beauty of-----------
Freelancers all around,
Just to get a good look.
A baneful abrasion, the flower took
It captivates you -------------
Reels you, steals from you,
WAITING,
Until you pick the right flawless touch.
Dandelions swaying thin,
Here we fall like petals.
Ready to exploit, the beauty of-------
Inhale the fragrance,
Courtyard azure eyes,
Embarking in a wishful eternity,
A crush they become, when loveliness up and left.
A bully against arrogant threw feminine perfumed veils
Tulips waiting for the better auspicious sky
Asters claim the eclipse's,
-dinginess censors it from the brilliance of the sun.
~
A lonely rose
In My Helix World-
The out-and-out are born.
Cries in the dimness,
A sweet Lotus echo
Slight yelps of agony carried off by pollen breeze.
The earth revolves to fast,
Injections of herbal essence in the wind
For a split second, we feel pixie dust
Channel the essential, it fades
Earlier beauty, calmness-
A flourish smile,
Rusk of flower, a bluebird’s bread.
Like candles and dew, they stream and limber energy
Opposing others of its humanity,
Against the command of its importance,
Pierced by its own elegance,
Thriving slowly of its own will,
A short story, gone astray!
Tonight, we plant a tree,
The Flower wilts
The gardener cries
When love blossoms, in full bloom, the rose of bright
scarlet dances with sculptured petalled passion
as alluring fragrance enchants to ignite
senses and heart aplenty with no ration.
When love wilts dripping blood red petals that fall
and piercing thorns linger with deaths silent call
the rose fades, withers, decaying at its core
and once of beauty before is now no more.
maybe someday this heart will no longer hurt for the innocent souls
as every child's turquoise dream turns into a sea of bleeding bullets
every mother's fruitful orchard wilts into a field of broken bones
but are we too blind - reluctant to see the truth beyond skin and name
walking through a fog of ignorance - dressed as egoistic preachers
bringing shame to the oath of a warrior - weaving poetic lies
what has become of life - does peace come with an unattainable price
maybe someday the weight of these words will weigh heavier than hatred
and the moon shall rise and sprinkle glistening pearls upon eclipsed spheres….
for now, a world without war, I shall weave in seraphic syllables
In my poetic garden, where petals breathe with light - I feel evergreen.
Among ruby roses I see butterflies take flight - I feel evergreen.
Roaming under the influence of jasmine and honeysuckle perfume,
Edenic whispers weave tales of passions that excite - I feel evergreen.
In the fragility of flowers I yearn for my gold orchid amore,
who's eyes like stars, guide me in the darkness of midnight - I feel evergreen.
In her sepal support embrace, I find peace resting upon her blossoms,
like a bee in her flowered nectar tasting delight - I feel evergreen.
Her tender satin skin enchants my senses into drunken breathless sighs,
in each kaleidoscopic floret her soul shines bright - I feel evergreen.
Just like the sapphire moon I bow to her delicate dahlia distinction,
my soul shines when her loving caress is like moonlight - I feel evergreen.
I ask the breeze to carry her to the realms of my tranquil oasis,
so I can dance in the glory of her serene sight - to feel evergreen.
I know greedy gardeners are envious of my most beautiful bloom,
but they do not know how to evolve her seeds upright - to feel evergreen.
Before the tests of time become my nemesis like the serpent with Eve,
flourish strong my beloved like the sun at daylight - to feel evergreen.
In the hope of an eternal vineyard where our sacred love never wilts,
I'll protect you like thorns against predators at night - to feel evergreen.
Forever remain within the boundaries where our hearts beat together,
a perennial symphony where twin flames ignite - to feel evergreen.
Season of death kisses in hues,
of gold, auburn and blood red views.
Cold air wraps around like a quilt.
Morbid clouds veil my sun with guilt.
As tears hide within misty dews.
Puffs of ash float in moods of mourning.
Heart sighs as thunder echoes in screams.
Lightning strikes as birds chirp a warning.
Puffs of ash float in moods of mourning,
as last rose wilts with no more forming.
Tears of rain reflect through broken dreams.
Puffs of ash float in moods of mourning.
Heart sighs as thunder echoes in screams.
Haunted eyes hide pain
when all's lost in vain.
My soul yearns for spring,
for joys blue skies bring.
Quintilla - Triolet - Jueju
"And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves..." - Virginia Woolf
When sun grows stingy in the sky
melancholy wilts happy flowers
summer’s long days will be fading away
when trees announce fall’s coming
in their brightest attire
Gold and Crimson waltz
in autumn’s cooling breezes.
Pumpkins wear strange grins!
Summer’s obituary
by this time has been planted.
when rivers and lakes
solidify into ice . . .
december skates in
September 16, 2020
for Brian Strand's
Completely Your Choice (22)Any Form AnyTheme Poetry Contest
Closure eludes my clasp
Love wilts, somehow lasts
The destination beyond my grasp
The dream decays day by day
Your light, which never fades
Simply stopped shinning my way
Castrating chains of second chair
Faithfull, I wither for you there
Sucking stale stagnant air
Barely beating beneath my breast
My heart, now a hospice
Gently lays it all to rest
Lightly felt faintly heard
Pumping, pain-numbing words
Its over…its over… its over
Longing in lowly light of longer days
by which a summer wilts paternal dreams
and browns the loitered heaves of yellow spring:
the budding void that stamps an empty swing
seen swaying golden locks ungated beams
my own Begotten streamed in greener dawn
where fussy forums for an April fawn
allay no muttered march on mother’s May.
Persistent blades unsheathe the sprawling grass
beneath the blue release of silver dew -
an inch overgrown, as inch shrouded cool
billows: arisen reeds from dizzied drool
showing flashes of reincarnation
cured by the rose (or purple carnation)
4/4/17
Seeing my Daddy in black and white moves my emotional colors
into a vibrant rainbow that was Daddy made decades ago.
Only twenty-seven in the photo, Dad's patience had yet to grow.
Daddy loved us
My brother and I thought him old and always right with Dad powers.
He was actually quite young with wife, career and two small tykes.
Despite my flashbulb-face, I could easily visit the photograph for hours.
I know it is from Fort Lee, Virginia, and my tights have likely slid down.
I love seeing Dad's arms around us while we are leaning on his knee.
I love seeing us pressed against his chest and our heads leaning close.
Daddy loved us
Looking at the photograph, I can completely sense him, even his skin.
My brother is four and years away from bipolar, he is still a happy boy.
I am newly three and except for tights, nothing has ever bothered me.
In this photo Daddy is visibly near, not gone as called back to heaven.
This photo wilts my composure for I dearly wish he had lived to be older.
As a retired Army officer, at sixty-seven, Agent Orange finally caught him.
Daddy loved us
Against a browning hill
oak trees' bleeding limbs are stretched;
some drops release to softly fall
some cling to dry encrusted scars.
A few short months and we will walk
beneath the springing trees
marking their swords of thinnest green
stabbing at the stars.
And so, life seasons make their rounds
in nature and in men
the flower wilts, the rose is pruned,
the leaves must fall again.
Everything of lasting worth
contains a seed of loss;
on young love's throbbing circlet
hangs a bitter cross.
We will walk life's lanes together,
cherishing this pain we share
for spring will come tomorrow
and bloom on our despair.
Copyright, November 11, 2014
filling the radio with words of availability
lot lizards selling their souls to diesel driving “Joe-s”
in and out of truck cabs under a weeping moon’s protection
Jane, works the night, wondering if her daddy knows
lipstick on and high heels strapped as the sun sets in May
call sign; “Wild Orchid” …. “Anyone looking for a good time?”
a traffic jam of radio chatter…… congested air waves
the August sun rises on a night of sexual crime
Orchid petals caressed with greased stained hands
her pale white color quickly wilts to brown
the young November night is holding her final bloom
evidence of violent pruning becomes talk of the town
a knock on the door……………….. a flower delivered
Wild Orchid’s father is asked, “Is she the one?”
he checks her stem, quickly recognizing his roots
inevitably, the withering of his blossom has begun……
Okay we've all cracked the funnies
Joked about what's gone and what's still there.
How everything sags or wilts
Doesn' t work or is in a state of disrepair.
How we're crumbling or fumbling.
Who's deaf? you're mumbling.
How we're gummy or losing our hair-
So what !
Inside we're young and attractive still very active,
Lively, energetic though bent and arthritic-
So what !
Inside we're lustful and exciting,warm and inviting,
Charming, alluring though wrinkles are occuring-
So what !
Inside we're strong and dependable not expendable
Though memory's not reliable and body not so pliable-
So what !
Inside we're funny and witty don't need anyone's pity,
Treat life playfully and are growing old ' disgracefully '
And yes
WE'RE ENTITLED, so why should we care
Because inside we're the person we always were....
Old who's old? Age is only going on out there
--- BEFORE---
love birds coo coo coo
mouths holding honeymoon hands
sailing rapture glow
---NOW---
he morphed into a shabby computerholic couch potato
triple sour grudges, the twisted naggings piercing falceto
mr. droid in the attic snoring, his belly bloated like a preggy hag
while garbage stinks as rotting romance wilts on witches’ swag
no night dates, he tickles women online with bills climbing loco loco
--- AND THEN---
merrily soon-to-be-an ex, the droidcoholic shocked bones anew
without a pre-nup, his mother’s mansion's in my name--- woo hoo!
( for P.D's divorce club contest)
In the orchard of opalescence
magnificent myriads of mellows
fervently flow in fountains
breathing beguile blossoms
a forgotten fable ferments,
in haunting hollows I hear.
My heart is a restless garden
with varying pulses of penumbra
conflicts caressing cuddles
tenacious tattered thorns
singing to sumptuous serenades
where brisking bubbles burst
butterflies spread beautiful wings
bees buzzing like ballerinas
to ballads in pirouettes--
a symphony calms my anxieties
descending from azure skies
but my vineyard wilts in agony.
A bird drops a seed of hope
from a foreign land in my orchard
sprouting to strive in storms
emanating exotic effervescence
ballerinas pause their buzz
butterflies flee in fear
serenades slip in streams
out casting the stranger seed.
I touch the seed with curiosity
blissfully in my meadow
melancholy melts to melodies
auspicious aurora allures
tender bud in lavender hues
drenching my dulcet dreams
in showers of chrysanthemum whispers
draping my fears at dusk
embrace my weariness with love
Is this what I'd been awaiting
a stranger I've always known
Aphrodite in lilac curtains
blushes to unfurl the petals
my fingers touch her musings
her fragrance blooms my orchard
ensnaring my sapphire senses
sparkling in emerald dew drops
I plant her beside my window
she's my fable of felicity
vineyard reviving to life
as tendrils ascend to witness
her velvet lullabies
"Sleep my love
another garden awaits me"
July 30, 2020
Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies! Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
~Winner: 1st Place