OCTOBER SONG
September was the summer’s end
With little bounty left to lend
But now October will arrive
An autumn season kept alive
The month that can hold winter back
Proud of its role that others lack
Retaining warmth so all survive
An autumn season kept alive
It sees time changes for mankind
Yet for itself, more strength to find
Such that hardier plants may thrive
An autumn season kept alive
Categories:
hardier, october,
Form: Kyrielle
I attempted to put the pieces back together
I had been a glorious quilt, all dainty stitches and optimism
Until he did damage with his seam ripper
I can do this I resolved.
Revitalize yourself, I chastised me.
Me, who was not the guilty party here.
Come on! I coaxed my tattered fabric.
We can do this! It will not be easy, but it is imperative.
My cloth was damaged,
but all we need is some starch and a good washing.
My fabrics did not believe me at first,
Preferring to take the easy way and head for the rag barrel.
Eventually my persuasion revitalized them and we became a new quilt.
A better quilt, a hardier quilt, a more knowing, empathetic quilt.
Categories:
hardier, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse
Olive copse
Sitting indoors being old and are forbidden
to go outside, I dream of lazier days
then in the heat of summer, I had siesta under
a 500 years olive tree.
I was dreaming of the shepherds who slept under
this tree and the only sound was grazing sheep and the occasional barks of a dog.
I can smell the cheese he ate and the wine he drank
before they drifted into a slumber.
The sheepherders got old and died but the tree grows
bigger and bore fruit.
There was poverty here and a new generation wanted
a better life, they went to America to find gold
and get married to Amanda.
Alas, factories paid well, they married no Amanda, but
someone of hardier, hairdresser stuff.
I wonder if they ever dreamt of the old days when the sun was hot, sleeping under an olive tree.
Categories:
hardier, break up, deep, emotions,
Form: Blank verse
Davenport Tomorrow
by Michael R. Burch
Davenport tomorrow ...
all the trees stand stark-naked in the sun.
Now it is always summer
and the bees buzz in cesspools,
adapted to a new life.
There are no flowers,
but the weeds, being hardier,
have survived.
The small town has become
a city of millions;
there is no longer a sea,
only a huge sewer,
but the children don't mind.
They still study
rocks and stars,
but biology is a forgotten science ...
after all, what is life?
Davenport tomorrow ...
all the children murmur through vein-streaked gills
whispered wonders of long-ago.
Categories:
hardier, earth, earth day, environment,
Form: Free verse
Through the driving snow I trudged,
Now crumping 'neath my feet.
Numb fingers, despite gloves,
Head bowed to the sleet.
Stinging cheeks, and frozen nose
Chilled now to the core,
To my surprise, I saw a flower,
A little Hellebore.
A pretty bloom of dusky pink
Peeped up from the snow,
I thought what a dainty flower,
To pick such a time to grow.
It bore no warming layers,
Far hardier than I,
A life force unrivalled,
As snow fell from the sky.
Entry for
YOUR CHOICE FLOWER VERSE,
Any form ,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand.
23/6/2019. Placed =3rd.
Categories:
hardier, flower, life, winter,
Form: Rhyme
A misty Scottish gale blows fierce
From the grey that clouds the hills
I step onto her western way
Desolate, damp and chilled
Her grasses grow brown and lavender
Stretching as far as I can see
While Hill tops and the horizon
Lead me deep into a peaty sea
From the banks of black Loch Tula
At the base of rocky Bens,
I walk this winding pathway
Bearing forward to Ba bridge
I stop to survey the ruins
That were once, hardier than I
And climb up to a mountain's pass
with Glencoe in my sights
The Buachaille and Beinn a' Chrulaiste
Towers high out from the fog
Herding me towards the gateway
Of the Glen and from the bog
And yet that cold wind continues
Against me all the while
And the rain blows much harder
Urging me to turn away
But the Highland call has taken me
From far enough away
That I see the moor's true beauty
Even on this rainy day.
Categories:
hardier, adventure, nature, places, rain,
Form: Ode
Mysterious pot plants
There’s a garden with some pot plants in the rain
I sit here and wonder what the colours mean and names
Because there’s too many to remember but some colours are the same
Yellow ones and purple ones and orange ones like small flames
Red ones and white ones and blue ones in the summertime they came
Some flowers grow old after the cold comes and whither in the strain
But evergreens keep on flowering because they are hardier than the petals that fall in vain
So all year round there are flowers to please your eyes and tantalize your brain
There’s a garden with some pot plants in the spring summer autumn and winter I proclaim
But what really baffles me is that I’m sure at night when I’m asleep someone comes and
moves them again and again and again.
Categories:
hardier, creation,
Form: I do not know?
he will find a me
gonna wanta trim
the Ruldolph had laugh
to just to two more-
delight chymistry,
But health Never good
too slow an old friend
out of bound wild
call form Animal
which lead too wrought ****-
blemish the spot mesh
tarnish hatt hardier!
metal daily use
his reputation
up, so thin and fine?
still like her hat mess
buy the pan flute tie
biological
in wake of the work
way technology
Categories:
hardier, angst,
Form: Blank verse
Always expect the unexpected.
Don't be shocked by a surprise.
Sometimes our nonchalant complacency
presents a new gift in disguise.
The future we had planned for
isn't always whats in store,
but for each lost opportunity
we'll find another door.
We will find a way of coping
when we thought we never could.
What seemed at first so negative
can be transformed into 'good'.
The seed of faith grows hardier;
the weakness becomes strong
and soon what first seemed 'gloom and doom'
sings a much more hopeful song.
Inside each grey and blustery cloud
there lies a silver seed of hope.
It nestles in the misery and
grows to help us cope.
It blossoms into friendship
we never knew was there;
it blooms when people 'rally round'
and show they really care.
So, don't be shocked by life's surprises.
Don't let them knock you to the ground.
Let the bellow of the storm die down
and hear the tinkling silver sound
Categories:
hardier, faithsilver,
Form: Rhyme