Chrysanthemum the Christmas pig was perky as any preteen
Greeting us in a marvelous way, his eyes were a sparkling sheen
Smile on his face was wide and excited, he did love Christmas so.
He never realized the plotting in the kitchen down below
Let’s put an apple in his mouth before we put him on the spit.
If Chrysanthemum had heard this, he would have had a fit.
But he’s so friendly, a young maid said, he’s got such a lovely look.
Where do you think we get ham and bacon? Asked the eager cook.
As the saccharine shadows of daylight dims
You can hear the melodies of eager eve
Tangerine sunsets composing chrysanthemum hymns
Songs that the sun with the zephyr does weave
The tempo played by the vibrant sky is before us
Marigolds blooming and booming in the heavens bright
Psychedelic hues of the sundown plays a chorus
Dusk bowing to the music of the dark night
Homebound birdies chirruping their way to the nest
Wispy clouds bidding their last goodbye for the day
Stars entering the scene with supreme sonata fest
Maiden moon like a siren mesmerizing with her sway
Salmon welkin croons its crescendo as it turns indigo
A sprinkling of twinkles spattered across its face
Awestruck by the twilight's kaleidoscopic canticle glow!
What a sight to behold! Such harmonious charming grace!
Line #2
Sitting on me, butterflies and dragonflies give poses.
Am I not, yet, less known than my fragrant sisters, Roses?
Am I not somewhat less cared for as though nature's stepchild?
The sun and the shower on me, yet, fall tender and mild.
I'm Hope. Optimism in me, like streams towards heaven, flows
Faith, in the form of chlorophyll, wearing green costumes glows.
Love, loyalty, and destiny I divinely present
In each petal of mine dwells the Guerlain Shalimar scent.
A prosperous life, positive growth, joy, bliss, contentment
I offer optimism with a sweet psychic amendment.
Love me like a father, mother, brother, sister, or friend.
Scenting your grave, I'll dwell with you till the universe's end.
Rooted in the ground as being common herbs
Either respectfully in a cemetery or simply on a roadside
To guard the dead ones and to wait for the passers–by
Year after year they adhere to their own way
And fear not the rainy and the windy days
And to blossom their flowers and wait for
The shadow that floats over their head off
To light up the black soil on the silent road
And to decorate times with vitality and hope
To remind people that life how to continue
Chrysanthemum whispers
gird clouds of winter.
Frost spells inhume heart
deep into the valley of silence
Loud and mournful poesy
scribbled the souls
enchaining the last rays.
Misty dawn shone owing
to shades of night
And My Daffodil awaits
for the shades of blush.
Rarest bloom of all,
In bliss, you sing Christ's anthem;
My angel mother.
Not following vernal flowers, you bloom in autumn;
By the fence, you stand by yourself in manners awesome.
You prefer to wither at the lofty bough with fragrance
Rather than dance with the north wind in complacence.
(tran.)
It may not be over for you
But you ended it for me
And even though it’s painful
I guess I should be greatful
Because of you I met him
And now I’m happier
than I’ve ever been.
CHRYSANTHEMUM
Chrysanthemum, chameleon joy
King’s pleasure bud, a golden boy
A southern belle, snowball whiteout
Perfect for a desired night out
Welcome to her flirtatious ploy
Flashy pretty petals, not coy
A Purple frill ~ edged daisy joy
Fall dance of November hues shout
~ Chrysanthemum ~
Autumn flower tattooed with koi
Mums by that special girl or boy
A necklace purchased at the checkout
And love is what it’s all about
Riveting petals of great joy ~
Chrysanthemum
7/17/2017
Rondeau Form
Oh, last mum standing, with head bowed low,
to pinch my spirit as I watch you go.
Your mates all gone, kissed by father frost
will you now surrender and leave me lost -
longing for the blush of red on your nose
calling for delay of sharp winter snows?
Like a stray phantom,
Shrouded in fog;
I lay down dying
Upon the thorny solitude
- With no visible candles around me -
The eternal night,
As she grows inside me;
Seems to strip the sky
Off its Diamond-Star,
And the chant of Israfel
- Getting pale and lifeless -
Seems to echo my secret melodies.
In the dark process,
The ether-covered solitude
Gets fermented,
And takes hold of my spirit.
Yet,
With metallic feet,
I finally stepped
Into that misty hollowness;
Wearing the petals
Of a red Chrysanthemum.
Rochdi Bouille
Casablanca, 1994
She always loved chrysanthemums,
my mum.
Those long-lived strong proud stems,
topped with blooms of vibrant colour,
survive all other flowers
until December frost.
She lived through four and ninety autumns,
my mum,
and now her time is come.
In peace she lies in willow casket
adorned with bright chrysanthemums,
her mortal journey done.
They bring such joy, chrysanthemums;
my mum, too,
brought happiness to all she met,
strength to family and friends.
In spirit she still brings us joy
just like chrysanthemums.
Purple explosion
Petals bursting violet
Indigo fireworks
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