The winter snow and freeze killed everything
I planted in the spring,
Rhododendrons, roses, Hawaii hibiscus
And the bougainvillea orange king.
Parsley, sage and thyme are gone,
Peony and pansies too,
The daisies died and I still sigh
For the loss of primrose blue.
No more azaleas or alyssum,
Passionflower or peppermint,
The coleus did not last nor sassafras,
And goodbye to rosemary’s scent.
And all the leaves on the lemon tree
Look more like a weeping willow,
Sagging sadly as if begging madly
To finally let her go.
But Spring is looming ‘round the bend
And new seeds await good earth,
To come alive in sun-filled skies
And signify life’s worth.
As all things come, and all must go
In a whisp of place and time,
Like flowers and plants in a cosmic dance,
The seasons of life are Sublime.
© Terrell Martin, 01/27/2025
Categories:
coleus, metaphor, seasons,
Form: Rhyme
Handpicked, like coffee seeds or strawberries, ten eggs I kept
Like a tensed insomniac, for a long time I'd not slept
I found a change in the bloom of the dermis as days passed
There came out surprise-filled tint tots, elegance unsurpassed.
Red, green, blue, purple, and yellow, like a compressed rainbow
With perfectly blown balloons, as children merrily glow.
As seedlings spring up at night and glisten in the morning,
These soft talc and cloud agate gems appear without warning.
Standing erect and straight with sun-moon-stars-tinged, blazing eyes;
Robotic reflexes; peep, peep, peep, filling up the skies
Judgement quality of quantity like the honeybees
Psychic contagion is in them, like treasures in deep seas.
Symbols of resurrection, springtime splendours, and new life
A masterpiece of nature's craftsmanship after a strife
Scenes of Elysium, Coleus, and Jannah revealed
The mysteries of chicks, like the Milky Way, are concealed.
Categories:
coleus, bird, nature,
Form: Rhyme
late summer's sunset
slowly sinks atop the hill....
red coleus aflame
Categories:
coleus, appreciation,
Form: Haiku
Violet softness blushes the cheeks of the gently swaying purple vinca, and murmurs sweetly of
Violet cloud filled breezes caressing their green leaves, like
Violet lips that whisper the bitter longing flavor of deep blue love songs when snow arrives.
Violet ice tinged coleus shiver beneath the white covering of blinding cold as
Violet perfumed roses reserve their fragrant blooms under the silvery veil of winter.
(purple, murmurs, caressing, green, flavor, blue, white, blinding, fragrant, silvery)
I walk through the garden in early Spring.
The purple, fragrant earth murmurs with
each step of my blue and white shoes
caressing their moistened soles.
Green leaves and silvery
sun flavor the scene
in blinding light,
that paints the
blossoms
mauve.
10/12/15
James Inman
Categories:
coleus, color, flower, garden, snow,
Form: Free verse
Your briefcase sits beside the water can
(long dry memento of ivy, coleus,
and more exotic plants which perished
under your patient, watchful care.)
Not good at growing greenery,
on paper you construct imaginary jungles,
weep watery tears when they wither
beneath your critical eye.
Categories:
coleus, allegory, introspection, life, loss,
Form: Epigram
In the tropics I have held temptation,
By its tail not to pluck beauty pieces,
Orchids in play with the coleus leaves,
Ever green bottle palms and ferns in relief;
Twined creepers as they toss in the moist breeze,
Provoke colorful beak birds to observe,
Natural life as it flowers freely;
Beckons all to the "Bird Of Paradise";
If only one could paint in color hues;
Could he play havoc with these wild beauties?
Categories:
coleus, life
Form: Free verse
Vincent Van Gogh
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Passion tormenting.
Acceptance? Unholy flaw.
Vibrant colors capturing,
All alone he saw.
Beyond starry skies at night,
Honored by his vibrant brush.
Cypress glory, bright,
Embedded images hushed.
Country houses, peasants, cows,
Smitten. His soul crushed.
Chestnut trees. And coleus.
Perfected by sorrows eyes.
Lilac bushes. Irises.
Still Van Gogh's soul cries.
Orchards' blossoms, olive trees,
Fields. Bottles. Hats. Books. And Seas.
Still-lives. Harvests. Groves.
Then, to the asylum led.
Protected from hurtful flows.
Eyes absorbing strife-
Gripping anticipations.
Frantic energetic strokes,
Garden. Creations.
Pondering at his easel.
Paint, brushes and canvas hoped.
Life moaned in his face.
Endless striving. His mind seized.
Competition wore him down.
Peer recognitions.
Pained. Rejected. Feeling naught.
Oh, “Sunflowers in a Vase”,
By death fame was bought.
"Self-Portrait In Front Of The Easel"
To view, use the link below.
http://globalwholesaleart.com/selfportrait-front-easel-p-6458.html
This poem was written for Abe Lopez's Van Gogh contest
Categories:
coleus, art, death, history, work
Form: Choka