War Garden Poems | Examples
These War Garden poems are examples of Garden poems about War. These are the best examples of Garden War poems written by international poets.
I found a blade beside the rose,
its silver kissed by morning’s close;
It caught the sun as if to keep
the fire warm while earth still sleeps.
It did not stir when I drew near,
nor tremble with a hint of fear;
It seemed to watch, in patient grace,
the wind that touched its polished face.
A vine had curled around its hilt,
like memory round the things we’ve built;
And rain had carved, in tiny streams,
the stories only metal dreams.
I reached to lift it from the ground,
and heard a low, unshaken sound—
The whisper steel will sometimes say:
“My edge was honed for more than play.”
Yet still it let my fingers hold,
its weight both steady, warm, and cold;
And in that moment, I could see
the storm it was, the calm it’d be.
Categories:
garden, fate, freedom, passion, spiritual,
The power depends on the people’s will
They were taught to believe this at high school
But as practice has shown, powers like to kill
And the people are forced to obey under rule
So the contract between the people and power
Looks a bit stretched cause it was preset
Do I need a law how to water my flower?
My goodwill’s stipulated without my consent?
And now you self appointed judges get loud
Condemning me for the war in your garden
But you've got the wrong address, dear crowd
Type the proper number of your chosen warden
Am I not responsible for lunar eclipses yet?
Mustn’t I write an explanatory note
On three A 4 sheets of paper, so that
Could be cheerfully taken as my absent vote.
Categories:
garden, political, satire,
i wonder- when the people you’ve seen once upon a distant memory ask how i am, what do you say?
do you say we don’t talk?
do you say the truth?
do you admit to your sins like a devil in the church-
do you feel a charcoal burn on your soul when you see soul in the wind?
the charred burn on my soul remains forever.
a battle scar of your anger- our great war.
i like to think we’re biblical,
like my soul was the great garden you terminated with your unholiness,
bugs crawling our of my beautiful garden of a soul- with the chemical burns of a thousand souls from your extermination.
Categories:
garden, abuse, allusion, angel, bible,
in my periphery
you arrived at my door
with your guns and cannons
i wondered why the uproar?
marched into my house with full force
and aimed your cannons at my door
to destroy my peace and drag me to the sea
the celosia in my garden still flourishing in the war
been through your drought, my undying love
i hate you to your face
but I love you behind your back
my friends called it a “a toxic affair meant to be crushed
either by fate or by your lover’s hand”
Categories:
garden, anger,
How the primitive gain power
I don’t have a clue
They’ve no time to smell a flower
Or to plant a new
They’re spiritually greedy
And inevitably sad
Not at all like me, indeedy
I’m an easy-going lad
I’ve no time to crave for power
Take this country, anyone
Come invade my garden flower
Tramp it in the morning sun
Here’s my ID and insurance
You can burn it in one pile
With myself, at such occurrence
Smell my ashes with a smile
You consider me a nation
You’re a primitive moron
Pray about my fake salvation
Watch me thriving on your scorn.
Categories:
garden, endurance, flower, peace, psychological,
The city is littered with broken souls,
To reside among nature, the purest of goals,
Some dream of vast fields of green,
Deep in their minds, a vivid scene.
Chained to the nightmare of city life,
Fractured daily by overwhelming strife,
Yearning to escape and breathe country air,
Just a single breath can ease your despair.
Held captive in the city for most of my years,
Drowning internally in a tsunami of tears,
I worked myself right to the bone,
To have a little cottage to call my own.
I retired there at the age of sixty six,
To dwell in my garden and feed my chicks,
City life was a battle that cut me deep to my core,
Today I stand the smiling victor, ‘tis I who won the war.
Categories:
garden, cheer up, desire, dream,
I prefer to gaze at my Eden
through this veil of screens.
There, the miracle of sun and bloom
explodes with delight over my stoned edges.
But...ponder me first before venturing
once more unto that breach, for there,
in the bowels of hosta and fern
lurk the humping beetle larvae,
phantom chompers, and
coal ink gorging rot,
all in roiling orgy,
within my manicured lines.
And, were I not a steward of the natural order,
I would Rambo myself into the fray
with bandoleers of bug cannons
and porcupine piss grenades.
Poised like a Spartan at the hot gates.
my doomed, flowing locks fluttering
in the blaze until the carnivorous
Paraná fleas hollow me out from within
and I fall like straw man turned delicately to bed.
cloistered again behind screen and wicker,
very non-Spartan like, relentlessly
resigned to trowel and tribulation
Categories:
anger, garden, lust, sexy,
Buried so long in rules and obligations
To the earth, the roots have worked.
Every time a raindrop falls on a petal,
It finally finds the earth
But the petal owns the mirth
Forgetting it started in the earth first.
The sky births the snowflake
And the snowflake starts the river
Raging
And the doe in the meadow waits
Nervously
For the river to slow down and gently flow
Through the meadow.
Water interrupts war.
Instead it finds life in a root
Of a plant
That makes a flower
That we must give to that little snowflake that started it all.
Give to the roots and let them bloom
High.
Categories:
garden, 12th grade, earth, father
The war was fought.
But the warriors thought it wise
to change sides
time and again.
Categories:
garden, horror, nature, technology,
Four fast friends and I sailed away to war.
Our dreams were fresh, and we owned forever.
On Omaha beach a shell took Trevor.
His Spring life sap gushed on the stark seashore.
Joe’s gardens were the splendor of Summer.
Bright marigolds bloomed as his youthful kids.
One day a viper he woke from slumber,
Leaving a wife's love to life on the skids.
Autumn’s leafy mosaic graced the ricks
With eye-popping colors down to the cricks.
Ben went for a cheerful leaf crunching stroll
Heart failing, in woods he fell with a roll.
Winter memories parade back to view
Medal of Honor friends we bade adieux.
Shedding tears for things that cannot be passed,
Will and I are racing to finish last.
Categories:
death, friendship, garden, life,
The garden
holds a drowsy half eyed
hum of bees
and the whispers
of leaves high above, then,
a hint of magnolia clouding
around the chair on which you lay
a breath or two from sleep.
The moment a warm surround
of passing thoughts
let free to wander
and drift towards
some out of focus haze.
And here time passes
in a barely conscious play
of fragmented scenes,
paused briefly when the eyes
squint open as if to reassure
yourself that you are real
and anchored here,
not in the prison
of someone else’s dream,
to awake not you
but in another place
where the afternoon darkens
and you are, instead, lying
in a muddy ditch overlooking
ruins still smouldering and strewn
with dead.
Categories:
garden, dream, war,
An apple a day keeps the doctor away;
But hugs are the best for your heart.
They say all is fair in love and in war,
But fair can keep lovers apart.
Normal’s a setting on washing machines,
But love is extraordinaire.
So don’t let the sun set on anger or spite;
Apologize gently, with care.
“It ain’t broke, don’t fix it” might go for a car,
But love is an ongoing work.
Measure twice, cut once, take care what you say,
‘Cuz love doesn’t suffer a jerk.
Culture’s what grows in the back of the fridge;
For love, you must cultivate.
Absence, they say, makes the heart grow fonder,
But presence is truly what sates.
Some idiot thought fear was better than love;
For that, there’s derisive laughter.
They say that one’s pride comes before the big fall,
But lawyers come shortly thereafter.
A horse led to water can’t be made to drink,
But roses can go a long way.
“You reap what you sow” should give one pause to think,
Attend to your love every day!
Some say love’s euphoric, it intoxicates,
But a love that is real, it seems,
Is a garden that’s tended to every day,
Not some blissful escape of your dreams.
Categories:
garden, love,
Afterwards in heaven’s garden
Where I find no weed or thorn;
Only stoneless soil unhardened,
Life is verdant, newness born.
Rows of hedges, trees, and flowers
Vibrant in their colors fair
Beauty floods my eyes for hours
Unconstrained by time, I stare.
I can find no signs of dying
Only life and peace - rebirth
No more sounds of grief-fraught crying
That I once knew while on earth.
Life-enriching waters flowing
From their pure eternal source,
Purifying all things growing
That they pass along their course.
Stars above are animated,
As I hear deep voices sing
Songs for which they were created,
Joy to their Creator bring.
Of vile crimes I hear no traces,
Sounds of war no more I hear;
What I see are joy-filled faces
All relieved of pain and fear.
All our days on earth are numbered,
Keep this hope until we wake
To God’s kingdom unencumbered
Of our sins, for Jesus’ sake.
Categories:
christian, garden, heaven, jesus,
A Feast for Mosquitoes
Picking peas in the garden,
My bare forearms a feast for mosquitoes.
With a dozen bites or more,
I think Mother Nature wrote the book
On the Art of War.
Each individual bite
Has its own level of pain.
And each individual bite
I had given a name.
From the pain in my forearms
I would swear mosquitoes have teeth.
My benefactors garden,
Whose home in which I stay.
He could not help me today,
unfortunately has to many years
of being old and gray.
He felt no pain as my forearms
Became a feast for mosquitoes.
My benefactor got his garden peas,
And the mosquitoes did not rest,
Until they got their pound of flesh.
Each individual bite had its own level of pain.
With each individual bite
I spoke my benefactors name.
Categories:
environment, garden, humor, pain,
bouquets of fire
sirens crack God's garden
Gaza strip rockets
For spring explosion contest
sponsor Maureen mcgreavy
3/27/19
Categories:
garden, violence, war,