Long Camellias Poems
Long Camellias Poems. Below are the most popular long Camellias by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Camellias poems by poem length and keyword.
Filled with Jesus-fascination
Pure poinsettia Plantation
Red, pink, white, salmon and yellow
Cover the fields like a rainbow...!
Sweet-peas like little butterflies,
Cute cosmic angels in disguise;
Perform ballet dance in cool breeze,
Make baby Jesus feel at ease...!
Does this blood-red calla lily
Blooming full at weather chilly
Prophesies his tests and passion
Symbols of divine compassion...?
Do these parrot tulip torch-balls
Sing of sanctity of our calls?
Setting our goals toward wholeness,
Journeying with him in closeness...!
These fresh camellias have stories -
Their mysteries and histories;
These as precious gifts they offer
At the foot of their true author...!
Anemones, Amaryllis,
Gardenia and gladiolus,
Each make this season auspicious,
Adores Him who is judicious...!!!
16 November 2022
November or December Quatrain Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
When I
feel down
and out of sorts
and have no get up and go
the only thing that lifts my spirits
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!! !!
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are
Sparkling ~ Dangling ~ Outrageous ~ Bizarre
the longer the better ~ the wilder they are
they are making me grin
I am feeling them swing
when moving my head
zany rings in my ears
some they are odd
some they are even
I wear them together
with flowers in my hair
lifting me making me
outlandish eccentric
zany I grow old disgracefully
but what do I care ~ with
bright red camellias adorning my hair
Written to lift my mood on 10th April 2021
Contest All Yours (April 12)
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
Contest 'Z' contest New or Old
Sponsor Constance La France
FIRST PLACE
Placed Second In :
Spring Sonata Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph Bru
Spring Sonata
When the queen of seasons serenades her sonata
And the spring sun spreads its soft shine on earth,
It`s time for daisies purple and blue to take birth anew,
For lilies pink and white to spring out from slumber
And daffodils yellow to garb on a new dress.
When the spring shine gently warms the air far and wide,
It`s time for camellias deep red to parade their blooms,
Vie with the splendour of tulips orange
And spy the frolics of skillful bees
Stealing nectar from the midst of flowers.
When the sweet breeze of spring sings its song,
It`s time for flowers to display their pomp
And their brilliance to all observant eyes,
Pervade the air with their delicious scent
And radiate the joy of life and living.
When the spring morn creeps in at dawn,
It`s time to lend ears to sparrows
Tweeting and twittering at ease
Amidst robins chirping with grace
While scanning the air with flapping wings.
When the moon and stars of spring slips in,
It`s time for sages to stare at the shine
Subdued by a slight breeze that caresses the skin,
And for staunch lovers to stitch sweet sugary dreams
In the stark silence of their silken couch.
When the gentle night of spring steps in,
It`s fitting time to scribble a serenade
To hail the gracious queen of seasons
And offer to her heartiest appreciation
For bestowing on man her generous boons.
She is a widow, never wanting to marry again, never defiling her vows,
her five children have moved to other parts of the United States;
and they seldom visit her, except on the very special season of Christmas,
when she adorns her home with garlands and lights to honor the Child Jesus...
Her name is Amelia, a petite lady from Andalusia,whose passion is writing poems,
and her Spanish accent is somewhat heavy, but the words are clear and precise;
on long summer's nights she speaks of her native land...meadows covered with camellias,
and tells tales of Columbus and the Conquistadors with feathered helmets...
She was quite beautiful in her younger days, daises in her dark, lustruos hair,
and sea-colored eyes that resembled the Mediterranean Sea, which brought her nostalgia;
and she often wore a folklorist costume of stripes of bright orange and yellow like her flag,
and now she's confined to a wheelchair looking sad...who has camellias for Amelia?
This past spring I planted a dozen of camellias plants in the empty and barren lawn,
hoping they would bloom when she would stare at the huge Atlantic Ocean;
and with eyes as sharp as a youngster, Amelia would see her beloved Spain,
and those lush meadows covered with camellias to bring her bitter-sweet pain.
In the quite hours of an early August' morning, Amelia rose to say her prayers,
and with the rosary in her devoted hands, she peaked outside and surprisingly smiled;
a beautiful garden of camellias appearing in front of her joyous eyes... she was so delighted,
but she couldn't go outside and caress them, but thought to herself, " Someone cares! "
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
We know her as Camellia...that fine name,
a perfect one for someone sweet as she;
her silky skin and amber eyes proclaim
a charming, pristine beauty, all agree.
Just like the flower's petals, pure and white
are shaped into a cup of perfect form,
Camellia molds her care to help them fight
the painful journey to more healthy norm.
Our dear Camellia comes most every day
to nurture our close friend who cannot walk.
Her tenderness and kindness lead the way
with her fine therapy and gentle talk.
Her steadfastness and excellence outshine
the beauty and the presence she portrays;
it's what's inside her heart that is sublime
and marks her loveliness in many ways.
Just as the flower does, Camellia lives,
with meaning of a pure and lovely soul;
perfection, beauty, in the care she gives
to her dear patients...help, her only goal.
August 25, 2016
~13th Place~
Contest: And In Words, She Blooms
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
Judged: 09/14/2016
"The symmetrical beauty and long-lasting quality of the flower have long been appreciated. White camellias with their pristine and pure hue depict an adorable quality. The white blossom may also symbolize perfection without blemish. Camellias, no matter what the color have meanings attached to them like steadfastness, and excellence. Once the white Camellias go into its fully bloomed form, it takes the shape of a delicate cup of petals...for the white camellia, getting blossoms with a perfectly shaped cup will embody your message of admiration for someone’s adorable qualities."
In early morn, the clouds are light
And breezes dissipate the worries of yesterday
While wispy clouds' dance a fleeting sight
Both camellias and magnolia's limbs sway
Camellias' verdant leaves a sight to see
Against magnolia's beauty pure and white
The two have healing touches in nature's glee
And Larkspurs' colors charm with delight
Magnolia's petals lift in the gentle breeze
Amidst the beauty of nature's grace
A symphony of colors a harmonious tease
In this wondrous heavenly place
Larks sing in the morning light
Where earth and sky meet in unity
Together they dance a wonderous sight
A moment of perfect serenity
I would’ve lived on
in a life composed of shades—
Black, white, and million kinds of gray.
Pulsing hearts rarely made sense
when even blood was
the shade of cooled cement.
That’s why you’re a mystery—
Your eyes are vibrant, water dancing
in a grace I cannot name.
They look like celestial crystals—
like if heaven has a shape;
Your hair warm, like autumn
before wind grows chilly.
It reminds me of maple leaves
I inked to seal fall’s harmony;
Your smile stirs—something
in my paralyzed soul.
Like a gentle thunderstorm,
but instead of rain you leave petals.
The camellias caress every
fiber on my skin, the electricity—
Then I knew:
You are color.
You are poetry.
You are the flustered butterfly
whom I felt across the sea.
Women, how can I make you a fair definition?
You have nurtured 6 billion live children
So, you are the mother of the human
On every piece of land on this planet
They, with fine wisdom and skillful hands
Arranged, the order of time and
The dimensions of tolerance
Giving the air the direction of love
Making the clouds Elegance and
The moonlight flow like a stream
So, you created miracles
I remembered how you grew up
Like flowering trees, jasmine, peaches
Apricot, or plums...
In the wind of spring and
In rays of the beautiful sun,
You are stretching the branches joyfully
And releasing the growth happily,
I can also hear your voice too,
As you are flying in the air, like the thrushes,
The swallows, or the Orioles...
Or like the sparrows jumping from branch to branch
So, you are broadcasting graceful music
When I'm near you, I can also smell your breath
The fragrance is somewhat with sweet,
Like the jasmines, the cloves, or the camellias...
And when I'm away for a long time from you,
Many times, my heart will become noisy
And my thoughts will diffuse
And hard to maintain a mindset of a scientist
And whenever this moment comes,
I know it will be more hard to define...
So, I must go outside
Facing the flowering trees and
Dazing
* To International Women's Day
At the end of winter's cold
And the beginning of spring
While the Camellias still bloom
Come to me
Let's share some time
Enjoy life together
While the Camellias still bloom
In lovely warmer weather
In the garden where memories
Whisper, a Camellia bud awakens
That tender blossom with velvet petals
Dances with grace and sun embraces
Love, like Camellia's blossoms
Grows slowly, nurtured by moments
Like these fleeting times spent together
But yet love is eternal
As velvety petals unfurl, vibrant
Love's ardor consumes, but is resilient
Winter's winds carry sweet fragrance
And of love's true commitment
In this ever-changing world
Let love find its place
May its gentle whispers and grace
Bear witness to love's evolution __in time
I found a chateau lawn once, teeming with charm
A MAZE it was, growing cluttered yet it had an air
Of much lushness TURNING the space into a hued mantle;
Where PATHS of herbage, bluebells, camellias sashayed
Like a vintage GARDEN set on cobblestone and ivy WALL.
Touches of grass here... firs, and jasmines there bloomed
Like shabby elegance which was never designed--
On the aisle, a SINUOUS bend led me to a wishing well
Creating a playful mood for birdsongs' rhythmic trills,
While dragonflies wheeled in pirouetted flight
That I, LOST in this finery recalled springtime glee
When my cousins' roguish play of hide-and-seek,
Mirrored their frolic, TWISTING reeling among weeds:
O reminisces gushed of colored florets TRAPPED
Within their scratched arms made me dream again,
About a youth's lawn which held me enthralled...
This wondrous PUZZLE of discovery I now keep, on my mind!
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Maze--19 Word Challenge Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart
6/28/2020