Bucolic Poems - Poems about Bucolic

Southern Rata Splendour

Southern Rata (is a stunning Kiwi Tree)



Red or scarlet harlots instead...a bucolic frolic..

Tranches spread as if bulbous branches have gorgeously bled..

Overpowering flowering towers glimmer…fanciful fairytale shimmers showering...

Such vim...swim on a whim..sprouting on an outing from their pouting wooden limb....

A delight..refining..shining bright.. defining.. these bizarrely beautifully gnarly trees...

Crimson collage..insisting snarling tendril darlings..timber tentacles twisting…a magical mirage....

Marooned

bucolic pellucid wet dreamz

.

                            amber
                          

Bucolic Scene Poetrix

In front of a still blank paper
   the poet imagines poetic movements
      watching leaves in the wind,

Bucolic

Bucolic

Bucolic, what a word.
I learned it from John Lloyd.
A poem like this, is it absurd?
And will it get you annoyed?

Imagine the grassy countryside.
The milk & honey flowing land,
or waves breaking at high tide,
crashing loudly at God’s command.

Bucolic, what does it mean?
A pastoral poem, beautifully written.
A scenic view, very serene.
There we were, completely smitten.

I love this

Bucolic Air

chickens pecking in the backyard
         tenderize the already bucolic air
          ... the poet is already poetizing...

The Field

Summer resplendent sun glowing
in the photosynthesis of viridescent grass.
Waving blades like long fingers flowing,
the sudden sighing gusts come and pass.

The field lives palpable in the anamnesis.
I step through the Queen Anne’s lace,
I lay down on dense turf, where distress decreases,
Sun of repose wrings out pain, leaving no trace.

The field uncut, surrounded by trees,
shooshing wind mixes

Immortal Bucolic Painting

He ran the palm of his hand across the canvas,
Felt its soft, smooth surface, excellent fabric.
It was well primed with gesso, and he was sure
The end result would be an immortal masterpiece
    
       The quintessential fragrance of daffodils,
        

Bucolic Desire

Apple skin body !
       sweet perfume of pink mango,
              wish be your orchard...!

Beauty Bucolic Scene

Bland  bucolic scene
      hidden behind a light rain
        a herald cock crows

Bucolic Bliss

golden paddies sway in sync as soft wind strokes their
cheeks ~ white herons squawk


Date: 08/15/2021
For A Brian Strand 1,2,3,4, or 5 Line Poetry Contest

On Bucolic Setting

ON BUCOLIC SETTING

      Earth dressed in foliage with lush verdure,
       leafy green revolution  to assure.
      Undisciplined non-mowed lime-green meadow
     growing wild weeds for cattle, camel, deer, and doe.
      

Rock Wall In the Woods

I see a rock wall in the woods,
I wonder where it goes…
To some forgotten forest glade
that only whitetails know?
To some abandoned farm graveyard
where small stones stand in rows?
To some shattered, ancient tree trunk
knocked down by the wind’s blow?
To a New England stone-choked stream,
gurgling out its flow?
Through what was once broad pasture land
farmers no long mow?
Through

Bucolic Tiredness

in summer twilight
cattle run to shed with dust
tired cowboy with stick 



-Thursday, June 13, 2019 Chattogram

Bucolic

bucolic perfumes
galoping unbridled
jumping sunrays



posted on July 8, 2019

Along

along country roads
barns crushed by the fall sun ~
and weight of time



AP: 2nd place 2020

Posted on July 8, 2019

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