Dogwood Poems - Poems about Dogwood

The Victorian House By The Small Dogwood Tree

There stands the Victorian house
by the small dogwood tree I planted at the age
of nineteen thinking of a colorful spring;
what a subtle joy palpitating inside
at a short distance, before Lassie starts barking:
her hearing is sharper than mine!  

I stop walking with a curious reflection:
who built this house by a busy highway,
was it a desolate

You Are Still Beautiful

There is a dogwood tree planted in our front lawn.
It reveals its beauty with each glorious dawn.
It was pretty when young, but lovelier with age.
Majestic white flowers, like modeling on stage.

You gave your body so our children could be born.
I know you think you look rotund and very worn.
Yet, to me you are still as

The Dogwood Flower

I was a youngster when my sight began to realize,
When I viewed a tree of flowers that grew across the road.
Whereas this time of beauty was forming within my eyes,
Where the shapes and lines are made from the clay that memories mold.

A flower on the tree branch seemed to bloom before my sight.
Sacred bloom was

A Day In May

May fashions days it will unveil;
and there exists one which I hail.
For me, it stands out from the rest-
for proof May came- it is the best.

Outside my window, grows a tree
that blooms each year- now fifty-three.
When dogwood blossoms open wide-
May bares her beauty- amplified.

May 6, 2022

Contest: A Lay For A Day In May
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich

Dogwood

Born of ignorant sod
King of kings, son of God
Halo crown of thorn
Pivotal pinnacles adorn

Crucifix dogwood tree
Suffer so dire malady
Forge rugged cross
Convey sanctioned loss

Purest blossoms white
Pristine petals alight
Tips in sanguine red
Pierced divine bloodshed

Father's grief enlisted
Boughs gravely twisted
Ne'er again use malice
Hardwood most callous


3/14/2022

Legend of the Dogwood In Haiku

dogwood blooms open 
revealing the cross Christ bore 
center crown of thorns 

nail dents on petals 
edge of petals is blood-stained 
glorious Easter 


March 28, 2021

To the Dogwood He Came

Down hot sunny lane came pink robin,
With a beautiful song in his heart!
He perched on a dogwood in my garden,
A moment of rapture, soon to depart.

Blooming days in my garden of delight.
The afternoon dragged waiting for him;
And he came singing long before night,
Like a rainbow's appearance on a whim!

Chickadee In the Dogwood

A chickadee sings in the dogwood tree,
sun rays highlight edges of pink blossoms;
spring awakens all life to renewal.

Dogwood

Dogwood
Full of blossoms
Blushing pink against green
Petals of four crowd slight branches
Summer flowers reign birthright of season
Grace a vase as the centerpiece
Creates smiling dimples
Unique beauty
Dogwood

The Words of Nobility

HIS SHAMES
THAT HE STANDS BEFORE
THESE MEN
WHO REPRESENT CAESAR
THE TRAITOR, THE HEROTIC, A SATAN
WHO SPEAK OF HIMSELF AS THE SON
OF GOD.
THAN CAESAR DENIES SUCH, THAT HE IS GOD
AND THIS MAN IS A CHARLETON WHO
MUST BE CRUCIFIED.
THEY CALL HIM THE " KING OF THE JEWS"
THE MESSIAH,! WHY WOULD GOD MAKE HIM
OF HIS IMAGE. TO HAVE HIM A

Dogwood Coaxes Spring

sage scent of dogwood
glorifying my heart strings
nurturing spring time

Written 3-1-2019
Contest: Spring Haiku Poetry
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin

Dogwood Tree

A splash of white rises in blossoms tall
On the Dogwood trees near the stone wall
They have been growing year to year
Now they have bloomed with spring cheer
Decorated in white surrounded by green
They are shining to fill in this beautiful scene

Heidi Sands

5/12/18

Sly Are the Foxgloves and Excitable the Dogwood, Oh My

Foxgloves and dogwood, oh my! 

Playing in the garden, 

When no one else is looking

Having such a great time, 

Foxgloves they are so sly 

Dogwood so excitable, 

Dancing together 

And so colourful, 

Filling the garden 

With mischief and magically 

Bring to life all of natures beauty, 

The foxgloves and dogwood, oh my!

They are both amazing

The Dogwood

The blood and lapis daylight sets
in ether. How the mind resets
brutality of winter chill
with February's codicil;
what gossamer a dream begets.

I hear the crickets in the dark,
their clicking takes up where the lark
has been. The flagrant marigolds
have huddled into twilight's folds,
on sanguine nightfall to embark.

The eastern zephyrs fall and rise
with rapid movement of my eyes
and echo

Dogwood Tattoo

Watercolor sketch
Of a dogwood flower on
Your sun-kissed shoulder
Sangria toned, calls my lips
Regret turns sweetness bitter

July 3, 2017

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