Bradford pears line the drive
Golden mops, dense supply
Ivy climbs, in designs
Elegant, are these vines
Cyprus trees, thrive with ease
The goods of woods minus leaves
Spongey grass, rich in hue
Heaven for morning dew
Purple trees adding spice
Alternation feels nice
Variations zig and zag
A dash of contrast, adds swag
An oak that’s lived many years
Rings align,descending tiers
Base is broad and trunk, stout
Pushed through frost, flood and drought
Just beyond this house of mine
Rows of pines, you will find
The beauty of it blows my mind
Twas a dream, once upon a time
It was a week ago that I was out last, because my daughter and I went out to
run errands and eat lunch together. How the trees and other scenery have changed in just
one week. The Bradford blooming pear trees are in full array, some reblooming Irises were
gorgeous in their purple dresses reminding me of Easter. My husband would have been de-
lighted to be planting early things like potatoes, onions, cabbages, and turnips in the garden.
My daughter and I enjoyed the warmth and a nice meal. Then we returned home. Upon seeing
my front yard, I immediately know that my husband would have already got the lawn mower
running and would have cut the yard where now a....
profusion
lavender beauty....
henbit blooms
fine pOwder
O
what a pleasant
mOrning
intake
cOffee
eee…ew
keep the dOOr
clOsed
bathe
the steps & car
thOse
hazardous
areas
the mat
underfOOt
handle
that can drive
yOur nOse
craz…eee
O
what blOOming
daffOdils
willOws
wisteria
bradfOrd pears
O
my
eyes
see
flOaters
flOtsam
pOllen I thOught
swiping at my hair
nOt gnats drats
strangers with wings
O
Spring
we sing
sOngs of thee
hutchOO
and
eee…ew
sO
beautiful
tOOdOOlOO
tO the cOld
sOlidly sOld
On glOrifying cOlOrs
hutchOO eee…ew
O
my
Spring’s
dreadfully beautiful
In a moment, in a twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet:
for the trumpet shall blow, and the dead shall be raised up
incorruptible, and we shall be changed.
—1 Cor 15:52
To Friendly Face and Open Door
Spring of daffodils and time change,
of snowy Bradford pears and I,
to friendly face and open door;
ecstatic at the doctored lift.*
Of snowy Bradford pears and I,
an hour that cannot be reclaimed.
Ecstatic at the doctored lift.
Latter smile on church-countenance.
An hour that cannot be reclaimed,
and thus the gimp has no inkling.
Latter smile on church-countenance.
Pain perished in twinkling moment.
And thus the gimp has no inkling,
saved from the click clack of a clock.
Pain perished in twinkling moment,
in glory of Great Physician.**
Saved, from the click clack of a clock,
to friendly face and open door.
in glory of Great Physician,
Spring of daffodils and time change.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
*lift - elevator and metaphor
**Great Physician - Jesus Christ
***non-rhyming pantoum
Early spring field and scattered daffodils,
Framed in by the ethereal green hills.
Sun sweet warmth falls behind and tries to gain
As gray clouds drift, a calming sprinkling rain.
Under the dappled shade of the tall free
Laden with rich white blooms Bradford pear tree
A wooly ewe milking her small lambs, lie
Contently tucked resting until clear sky.
Baa-baa, scamper, and leap among the field
Awaiting time as mama made them yield.
3/17/2024
Regardless of what the calendar says, for me, Spring is here when the Bradford Pear trees start to bloom...
Glad now winter's gone
Bradford Pear greets each new day
Gaily dressed for spring
Bradford pears decorated in white
Forsythia in her golden gown
Star Magnolia flowers droop out of sight
As many daffodils' petals have fallen down
Pouring rain did damage to tender flowers
Some fell to the ground or turned brown
Those left add delight to my eyes and give powers
To heal winter's blahs and breakdown
sitting 'pon park bench
deep in thought and so alone
joined by a lady who sits
bradford pears' petals
softly fall around like snow
upon their laps and joined hands
Frederick Delius of Bradford
where his circle struck a chord
He composed mainly for orchestra
few on which were his par
Bare winter trees begin to grow;
driving around, I watch nature's show.
shafts of light among taller, barren trunks
dogwoods blossom, a herald
as the woods come to life
Raindrops chase raindrops by design
and April beckons a flash flood.
The muddy streams now fill their banks,
daffodils and Bradford pears bud.
bird nests sporting eggs
yards gussied up for Easter
resurrection nears
March 20, 2022
Combination of Forms Contest:
“Crystalline- Kimo- Quatrain- Haiku”
Emile Pinet
In the yard stands a large Bradford pear tree,
Its spreading branches forming a shady canopy.
Beneath this shady haven is a ring of chairs,
And in each chair sits a friend who cares.
Women of diverse backgrounds and ages,
Make pleasant conversation as each engages.
We sit peacefully enjoying the cool spring breeze,
As it wends its way and rustles through the leaves.
We are not idle - each one stitches, knits or crochets,
On which ever crafty project is their forte.
Discussions range from family matters to local news.
Politics and politicians really light a fuse.
We tell jokes, ask and give advice.
Sometimes we just act silly and its nice.
Sharing our high points and our woes,
When we're together just about anything goes.
This gathering of friends is refreshing and renewing,
A bright spot when the darkness of this world is brewing.
These women are a blessing and a treasure.
Their worth exceeds far more than I can measure.
5/6/21
Dedicated to the ladies in my weekly crafting group
Resplendent showy white blossoms
Will soon embrace the backyard rose,
Bring pure blooms to the pom-pom bush
And towering Bradford pear tree.
Warm reminders of winter's snow
Resplendent showy white blossoms
Petals drift leisurely to earth,
Soft kisses on the fertile ground.
First to burst open buds of spring
The sacred dogwood tree, they say,
Resplendent showy white blossoms
Remind us of the Saviour's cross.
Come the gentle rains of April,
Making way for the leaves and fruit.
Until next winter's past, no more
Resplendent showy spring blossoms.
Written April 1, 2021
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand Contest
A LOVER'S DREAM
In the dark, cold shade, for some unknown reason,
Your eyes seduce, yet they betray no treason,
As you kiss my bosom,
Igniting my unbounded feminine lust.
How I gratefully feel your lips at my bust,
As my blood flows and heaves around my insatiable loins.
Sweetly I surrender to your masculine powers
Which instill within me worship, as my budding and blazing
Desire to be penetrated flowers,
And intensely peaks as my body shakes,
In your manly thrusts
Of conquering quakes.
Angie Bradford
The Bradford Pear
By Franklin Price
2/26/2017
I am the glorious Bradford Pear.
My leaves are turning white
I'm lining many streets and lanes
Trimmed and spaced just right
Other trees with branches bare
Show not a leaf in sight
I do not have to share your eyes
I'm selfish of the light.
Will be snow-like for just awhile
Then time will change the scene
Turning my leaves from snowflake white
To ones of Springtime green
Hello:
I submitted Willow Tree yesterday on your site and I do want this poem feaured on the PoetrySoup home page.
I can't click the "Yes" above.
Let me know if you wish me to submit it again. Thanks.
Thank you.
Carol Rae Bradford (Mayflower Arab)
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.