Written: March 25, 2025, for contest sponsored by Constance La France
Quote: Spring is for concepts and projects, and autumn is a second spring where each leaf is a rose. By Poet
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In the misty dawn, above the shimmering pane,
a gossamer haze swirls, poised for a vibrant leap.
With hawthorn heralding its velvety seep,
birds glorious melodies are mellifluous and plain.
Vortex winds blow over the thawed ground,
as life's poetry boldly finds its voice.
In every way, a magnificent renewal to rejoice!
For the whisper of bloodroot knows no bounds.
Categories:
bloodroot, analogy, appreciation,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme
Bright yellow sun, a stroke of noon’s delight.
Ice cold, red hot, a ravished tongue of spurs.
In moonlight serenade she scales the roof.
The darkling wine on lips — a sparkling feast.
Her rhizomic heart drum, in mystic beats.
The beast detests the prince of pomposity.
Cracked branches fall with weight from snow and ice
and eyes despise the madman’s gaze, above.
Her soft-hued dress resembles candlelight
And leave a stain, a heart in pain – yes, both.
(1)Blushing Daisies
(2) Ice Cold Red Hot
(3) Crumpled Sheets
(4)The Bellydance
(5) Bloodroot
(6) The Prince of Pomposity
(7) Weathered
(8) Death Overrules All Judgments Her on Earth
(9) Pretty Harvest
(10) Shooting Blanks
Categories:
bloodroot, angst, imagery,
Form: Blank verse
Rabbits go dancing in soft moonlit meadows;
Field mice, less boldly just waltz in the shadows.
Moles and shrews surface, but can’t see a thing;
Young thrushes and sparrows take flight on their wings.
Fawns go cavorting in wide open spaces.
Turtles shed shells and run naked in races.
Owls so enthralled that they don’t give a hoot:
Provincial living’s exceedingly cute.
Crocus choirs raise color-filled hallelujahs;
Queen bee lays eggs because that’s what she does.
Pansies and bloodroot are no longer dormant;
Solomon’s wardrobe ne’er held such a garment.
Young kits leave tree nests and begin exploring.
Cross Old Man Winter is finally snoring.
Temperate days have moods on the upswing;
Nighttime’s for frolicking when Mother sings.
Categories:
bloodroot, spring,
Form: Quatrain
hemlock
a shock
foxglove
no love
orchid
morbid
wolf’s bane
insane
larkspur
bad blur
glory
gory
sumac
step back
laurel
quarrel
bloodroot
a brute
jimson
no fun
bella
donna
monkshood
not good
rhubarb
grim garb
flower
power
Categories:
bloodroot, death, flower, nature, power,
Form: Footle
I walked through the meadow this afternoon
To enjoy this spring’s bloodroot growing wild
Short-lived blooms soon disappearing among
The taller stalks of milkweed and columbine.
I masked today because the pollen count is high
[My spring bout with allergies is almost over]
So, I dare not tempt Mother Nature’s malady.
I see the red-winged blackbirds have returned,
Nesting in the old fencerow along the roadside
Where domestic daisies and asters proliferate,
And I suspect a nest of bunnies could be found.
Until worn down, the path is almost overgrown
Brownish dead stalks from the early spring snow
And I waded through a patch of beggar’s lice
Which I carried until I returned to my backyard
Then picking them off one by one, I fretted,
But my first trip of the year was so rewarding
And I could hardly wait to tell you what I saw.
Written May 9, 2022
for "Brian Strand's Premier Poetry Contest"
FRONT PAGE PICK
All Poetry - June 6, 2022
Categories:
bloodroot, adventure, bird, flower, nature,
Form: Free verse
The smell of cherries, stem and all, sours the quiescence of the room.
An ethereal tongue midair, lilting with laughter, daunting and petty.
Crushed, he turns the opposite of robust red - this poisonous groom,
Realizing he’s released the bloodroot from the bottomless pit of hell.
Tortured for his life’s eternity, he will remain under her vengeful spell.
With wickedness of a serpent-bride, venom in her veins - a pitiless betty.
The softness of her skin, golden wheat hair, rich and honey sweet.
A treasure he’d wear for a while, whilst a murderous plot he’d kindle.
He’d not counted on this country mouse developing skills to cheat.
Thus he plotted a slow and painful death with plenipotentiary pain.
His Eve, he’d drive her body with arsenic, until she’d go insane.
~ Nettles of incremental hours, the widower’s squeals ne’er dwindle. ~
3/28/2018
Laura Loo’s Rhyme Time 1 Contest
Categories:
bloodroot, dark, murder,
Form: Rhyme
BLOODROOT
Before her celibacy meets its end,
her yellow hair doth shine, she is snow white.
So pristine clean, she hides her blush and seed -
a wild, pure flower, by the river slope.
Her rhizomic heart drum, in mystic beats,
can cause prince charming harm. Unarmed, he sleeps.
Alas! He has disrobed her virgin soil.
He played with crimson fire. Oh woe is he!
On slanted plot, his kingdom spoiled, he lays
his head - this poisoned crest. Thus touched by fair,
and tender root, unconscious lad has paid
the gold, for maid defiled. Her blood cries out!
7th Place
5/11/2017
Janice Canerdy’s Blank Verse poetry contest
Used: Personification
*Fire with one syllable
Categories:
bloodroot, flower,
Form: Blank verse
Even Devils couldn’t tempt or soothe as sex and wealth they offer me.
These things are meager swings of mood – its witches' tools I want for me!
Henbane, hemlock, liverwort,
the left foot of a crow,
Saturn’s fumes and sulfur dust,
an image of my foe.
The withered pose of petal rose and Vervain’s vile tea,
the spider’s leg and lizard’s tail with deadly nightshade seed;
such salts and stones and baby’s bones,
bloodroot, bat, and bee.
These little things the Devil brings
are all I want for me!
Categories:
bloodroot, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme
Photographs, fragile as Dead Sea scrolls,
hold two of you, dead before my birth,
stiff in sienna spring, serious as scabbards
on south Missouri farm.
Rosie: wind-hard in rock-scrubbed black dress,
stooped with thirteen children, steel-haloed glasses
glinting plum sun, aureole sun-gravured face,
dried apple forehead skewered with string.
Abraham: family myth namesake squinting beyond
musk ox moustache, blanched brow, measuring
Etruscan manhood, those pale stone radish seeds
sown years ago, the calloused hard-silk lover's hands
swinging slowly at your sides, butchered hogs
sashaying trees.
Categories:
bloodroot, death, family, life,
Form: Free verse