It has been said you are all just bricks in the wall -
confined and coffined in concrete, your moments
magnified in mortar, souls stone-stippled.
But listen: you are as flowers, individuals efflorescing -
shy eyes of violets, fragile forget-me-nots
unforgettable in pews of blues, sunshine celandines
beaming from sunless corners, strident daffodil trumpets
with everything to tell. Some will grow apart -
wayside wanderers, wayward and cast out.
Some forever up against the world-wall.
You unfold as petals, to sing in tongues of the sun,
in golden tonals, corolla contraltos, a floral choral,
soprano sepals, hibiscus hymns to him and her.
Flowering through stone, blossoming through gloom,
though shadow-dusted with dusk's lilac bloom.
Baptised in the dew of the new which forges
a world anew, transformed by the higher light
which highlights your days, gilded pollen-gold.
Days lengthen as rays warm walls, edges and corners
sun-softening, souls becoming sun-stippled.
Listen: these are the petalled messages to you.
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart." Hellen Keller
Snow-tipped mountains ranged around the prairie,
Small rivulets wavered down the steep sides,
Spreading nutriments, flourishing flowers.
Bright red poppies, and yellow celandines
Swayed all around, as a balmy breeze blew.
Aiding agile grey geese gracefully glide.
Above the shade of a cluster of oaks.
A few old men tended a flock of sheep,
Most chewed unleavened bread, nibbling on cheese.
Till to a tavern they'd go, to drink beer.
Placed 1
The clocks have moved forward. The Lyth Bank lanes
are primrose studded. Sparky celandines
wide open to the sun as winter wanes
and lengthening days renew age-old designs.
A pre-dawn chorus, eager for the day,
each one its neighbour seeking to outplay.
The cherry and the sloe, piled high with snow,
and, in the gardens, sweet magnolia.
Along these lovely lanes we gladly go,
delighting in the encircling drama,
yet mindful of the loved ones gone ahead
and in whose steps we do forever tread.
Since Man’s short sojourn on the Earth began,
we’ve viewed with certainty each newborn spring.
Whilst counting down our life’s allotted span
we wonder how and when the years will bring
an end to suffering on this fair planet.
We pray for those who will this Earth inherit.
Beautiful blue buddleia
brimming with bejeweled butterflies
which flutter frequently from branch to branch
Fabulous freesias
sensationally scented
perfumed perfection
Ruby red rambling roses
dainty daffodils and jaunty jonquils
colourful crocus and charming celandines
blooms bring breathtaking beauty
glorifying Gertrude’s garden
horticultural heaven!
Flower or Flowers in Imagism Form - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
03/13/21
Again the machair blooms. Again these wild
Atlantic shorelines, battered but unbowed
as the marram grass, survive the wayward
blasts of winter, the silver sands endowed
with dancing colour, greeting the splendour
of the budding year. A close bound repertoire
of nodding harebells, celandines and thrift,
clover, thyme and tiny eyebright, near and far,
a sweeping backdrop to the wave-washed shore.
Sea campion, marigold and silverweed,
majestic iris, buttercup and mayweed,
bashful wild orchids, and a myriad more,
each in their order pays homage to the sun.
Bedazzling the eye, High Summer has begun.
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