Frilled Poems

Butterfly

As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew  
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
 
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue 
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true

Look at her fairy wings marked and checkered with dark veins
And the frilled edges of its wings spotted with polka white stains.

With every swing and every dive in the air, this marvel does amaze
With its mesmerizing dance, a wondrous sight inviting us to gaze.

The blue butterfly merges well with the azure sky as it ascends higher.
As a splash of cobalt, again it comes down, landing on another flower. 

Its gentle spirit inspires us to soar high, fly and flutter on wings of joy 
Though its life is short, with the wind under its wings, it is out to enjoy!

Plucking Petals

she plucks pink petals one by one till there none
 a stark bare stem with beauty gone and empty
 would that she could glue them back but it is done
 and now no soft and secret silk will tempt thee
 even the green, moist, straight stem bends in the sun
 and there are fresh new flowers full and plenty
 a vast field of flowers frilled and frenzied sought
 yet only this can tell if he loves you not

Portuguese Man o' War

Sunrise and already the water 
is being seared with a glow 
as if under a grill. 
You can feel the heat building
in the morning air, the sand 
still warm from yesterday.

The tide has left the creature
stranded on the beach,
its frilled sail glistening 
and rigged with blue tentacles
clumped menacingly beside
its motionless body.

The sun will soon cook it
to a dried out bladder.
This drifting marvel of murder
is now no more than sea phlegm 
coughed up on the crest 
of a wave. It looks so pitiful.

And yet it still 
has the power to inflict 
a painful sting. Venom
waits for one last desperate
chance to snare some poor
careless prey.

My fingers seem possessed 
with a will to pick it up 
to see how it feels without 
being stung. I hover somewhere
between head and hand, 
stranded by indecision.




Footnote 
This is one of a series of poems 
that have the shoreline as the 
backdrop for the exploration
of meaning in things washed up
on the beach or in the experience 
of being in the moment.
Paul

Underneath A Spell

A dark blue midnight  awning has its portrait,
etched by a a starlit silver lustrous galaxy,
silhouette of black lace frilled clouds,
in somber quietude  adrift  beneath a vibrant pearl,
amber moon whose gleaming radiance bemused awhile,
at the stark underbelly of flickering candles,
that the urban nocturne spellbound revel in perchance,
sleep pattern held captive by ethereal bliss,
angelic dreams wrapped in opal tincture,
what optic relishes await at early first light,
a colourfast dawn unveils it’s bronze bespoke banner,
heaven bound  yellow flare insouciant whim,
red orange burst sky a stirring presage,
for wingspan flight of stone gray plume creature,
natural world usher whose gold throat cadence,
rouses wonderment among the persimmon trees,
tapping into human yearning for awestruck omen,
Kashmir bright velvet hue azimuth a scant gem,
yet sapphire orb twinkles close or distant lure
might embolden dull minds with ardent spark

Underneath A Spell

A dark blue midnight  awning has its portrait,
etched by a starlit silver lustrous galaxy,
silhouette of black lace frilled clouds,
in somber quietude  adrift  beneath a vibrant pearl,
amber moon whose gleaming radiance bemused awhile,
at the stark underbelly of flickering candles,
that the urban nocturne spellbound revel in perchance,
sleep pattern held captive by ethereal bliss,
angelic dreams wrapped in opal tincture,
what optic relishes await at early first light,
a colourfast dawn unveils it’s bronze bespoke banner,
heaven bound  yellow flare insouciant whim,
red orange burst sky a stirring presage,
for wingspan flight of stone gray plume creature,
natural world usher whose gold throat cadence,
rouses wonderment among the persimmon trees,
phasing into human yearning for awestruck omen,
Kashmir bright velvet hue azimuth a scant gem,
yet sapphire orb twinkles close or distant lure
might embolden dull minds with ardent spark

My Red Red Roses POTD

Red, red roses, you flowers of immortal love
You first blossomed in God’s Garden for Eve
In my garden too, you bloom so bright
I tend you with love and care day and night
You gladden me all through the day
That my verse on roses before all, gleefully I lay

Amid stinging thorns and the cover of leafy green
Your frilled beauty is sometimes veiled unseen
But as the wind croons all day in your ear
Your sweet fragrance spreads in the husky air
Thus, we are drawn to your hidden presence
And come to know of your lovely existence
You appear most beautiful when budding new
Lovely you are when your petals glisten, washed in dew

My Garden serves as a therapy in stress and strain
It is there, I forget and forego all my pain
When the first rays of light fall on the flowers
And the leaves are beaded with dew drops in bowers
I get out to work in nature’s household
And it brings me returns and rewards manifold
As I pull out every unwanted weed
A bit of my grief, I am learning to set aside
Sure, the smiling flowers give me lots of cheer 
And my health improves, as I inhale morn’s fresh air

Rhythm Innate Chanso

Diamond due droplets
Adorn fresh flowers
Calm comely comets

Flowers nectar filled
Sway in Zen Zephyr
Petals curl furl frilled

Zen Zephyr scent wafts
Tempt the tender buds
Taunt the tough thriftlofts

Tender buds spread smiles
Unleash aroma
Swath in sublime styles

Aroma outspread
Soothes the ambiance
Euphoric moods wed

Ambiance gorgeous
Creaturely chorus


16 May 2023
TAKE A CHANCE ON A CHANSO Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables

Kaleidoscope

Across the sideways, bronze framed hall mirror,
A ribbon of infrared light imprinted itself,
Like a streak of alien sky;
Hours later, it dimmed and blew out, like an ill-furnished house.
Other reflections crawled across like tarantulas...
Somebody's corduroy acorn brown trouser legs and spotless tapshoes;
Somebody's long-lashed, hazel-ringletted doll; it was wearing a lacy, tulip-embroidered smock with frilled edges, and it was napping in a nook.
One day, somebody slipped-up; their teacup, which had a watercolour lily design, ended-up on the mirror:
The owner of reflections fragmented,
Until it was nothing but a set of chess pieces, cluttering a dustpan.
A crescent of sun splintered the window, targeting the shards in the can like yellow rose hued rainbows.

Roses

Lo, the Roses which bloom in my garden, bright
I tend them with love and care day and night
These roses gladden me all through the day
That my verse on roses, before you, gleefully I lay

Amid stinging thorns and the cover of leafy green
Their frilled beauty is sometimes veiled unseen
But as the wind croons all day in their ear
Their sweet fragrance wafts through morning air


August.25.2022

~Placed Third~

Eight Lines of Rhyme- Your Favorite Flower Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Tania Kitchin

A Jolly Fisherman

Driven by a growing angling fad
The jolly fisherman took a fishing rod
And walked onto the nearby stream
As the sun rose from the mountain seam

He had in mind the swimming Trout
With rising hope and speeding steps, he set out
Sat on a rock and swished the rod in the air
With the quickness of a practiced bowler

Looking at the line sinking low, waited quiet
Hoping to see the fish nibbling at the bait
Inhaling the fresh morning air, he sat
His head well protected with a frilled hat

As the hook line went taut in his grip
With rising hope, he pulled it up
But alas! With no booty to boast
And no fish at the hook to fry or roast

Uncomplaining, he sat like a statue on the rock
For hours, never allowing his heart to break
He waited all day till the sun went down
And at last with a smile, walked down to his town

_______________________________


August.19. 2022

A Jolly Fisherman Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Julia Ward

Out of the Closet

Night wrinkles on dim hangers;
bell-bottom pants
two-toned platform shoes
a wide `kipper' tie.

In a pocket
a crumpled Kodachrome -
hot pants and velvet neck-choker.
‘Who is she?’

This closet is a time machine
I exited decades ago.
Dreaming hands part a frilled dress shirt
from its sky-blue tuxedo.

A stripy tank-top.
dances badly to ‘Brown Sugar’
damn you Mike Jagger
you created a monster.

There’s a rum and coke stain
floating like a ghost
through fading threads.

Time, now exhausted,
falls back onto a pillow
the wardrobe trembles like a Tardis
then disappears
into its blue police box
where every garb ever worn
still fits.

Who are you?
I am a hairy hippy, I glitter,
and Jesus Christ is still a Super Star.
She’s a sexy girl who won’t let me sleep.

Wire hangers rattle in the dark
a metallic laughter.
Nerves jiggle restless legs.

Frilled Neck Dragon Competition Is On

I am a frilled neck dragon, and I hail from New Guinea he bragged.
We were all intimidated by this guy who never stopped or lagged.
Until a new frilled neck dragon came into the woods in May.
My daddy’s bigger than your daddy, I heard the newcomer say.

The newcomer was from Australia, and at least another foot long.
He ate his crickets and meal worms as he sang his braggadocio song.
First frilled neck dragon got on a boat and sailed away across the sea.
I know this happened, because first frilled neck dragon lives with me.

Daffodils of Golden Grace

Air ripples with the scent of spring on the meadow 
I see the shine of dulcet patina of the dainty petals 
unfurling with the tender touch of the dawn’s hues
enhancing the golden opulence of dancing daffodils.  

The flowers blossom in lively silence with divine joy 
look up to the sunburst canvas of the sapphire sky 
absorbing its splendor in the essence of exuberance
paint the portrait of narcissus of exquisite beauty.

The satin night showers stardust on frilled corona 
suffused with mesmeric film of flowing moonbeam
the flowers sway on slender stems in gentle breeze
they listen the whispering melody of spring sonata.  

As the celestial charisma dances with floral cadence 
swinging daffodils create joyous rhythm in my heart   
perceiving the heavenly luster of ethereal euphoria
for the placid petals reflect the golden grace of God.

__________________

March 8, 2022
Contest : Spring Showers Or Spring Flowers
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh

On the Way

The drive from the airport
took us two days.
We had to sample each other
in bedrooms and showers,
in hot-tubs, in the frilled thrill
of paid for rooms.

Weeks later we did it in the car
on the way to some forgotten place.
It was awkward, I had misremembered
how a car can restrict.
We hastily gathered ourselves
lest the young show up
with cell phones.

Little lambs we were,
and sheep do not grow old,
except in the light of day.

Valentines Day

The drive from the airport
took us two days.
We had to sample each other
in bedrooms and showers,
in hot-tubs, in the frilled thrill
of paid for rooms.
Later, we did it in the car like kids.
This Valentine’s Day
there will be a different kind of passion,
a love of wine and warm sheets,
chocolates and
old movies.

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