Long Coltsfoot Poems
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Early one Spring morning, I joyfully walked the verdant hills,
among lemon tinted blooms of coltsfoot, swaying in spills.
Their beauty seemed to drift in a gloriously scented display,
so enticing that honeybees and butterflies visited that day.
Dawn whispered with fruited breath to bid the sun, "Arise,"
and hues of watermelon rind and peach flesh filled the skies.
I gladly welcomed the gentle warmth on my upturned face,
savoring this tranquil scene; a moment I would long embrace.
Tangerine and lavender coral bells had grown quite profuse.
There was one the shade of lime, like the liqueur, chartreuse.
Blanket flowers of crimson were fringed in saffron yellow.
Dragonflies flitted among the buds; a pastoral scene so mellow.
Wild lilac bushes were maturing into a beautiful hedgerow,
then I caught I glimpse of aquamarine water on the lake below.
It was such a serene setting that I lingered for some time
thinking about the pastoral scene I would write about in rhyme.
April 13, 2021
Changing Colors Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
The temperature fluctuates between mild spring days to rain or even snow. Nature wakes up, and the buds slowly sprout on the trees. Coltsfoot pop up as yellow rubber balls, charming yellow flowers. I find that the older I becomes, the more I love it. This time of year sings in my heart, along with a flock of whooper swans. Celebrating the arrival of spring with bubbling cider,
and delicious food on the fire pan.
coltsfoot pop-up spring
hocus-pocus, white crocus ~
dizzy by rapture
Spring is so lovely, right down to the smallest detail. Look at the bees, the queen has already laid lots of eggs. Buzzing, thousands of small bees ...spring tastes like honey - no doubt
do you save the bee
then you also save yourself ~
sweet golden honey
25/03/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Springtime Haibun Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
7th place in the contest
I value the ability to live independently
Most sacred to me
is the freedom and my health
- every breath of dawn, is like a diamond
I open the window ... just for a little while
- no children are out playing
the sun is shining and the lilies are blooming
Spring sings its first greeting
Nothing is so beautiful
as the first coltsfoot
Our world today ... lockdown and isolation
Freedom has got a bad friend
and its name is: FEAR
Fear of getting sick ...
Infection and illness can hit quite randomly
A good saying goes:
// it's hard to define an elephant,
but, you recognize it when you see it //
This is a time and a reminder about
we are all equally vulnerable
... and mortal
// Dear Father in Heaven,
protect us in battle and sickness
Give us hope when it seems hopeless //
- Don't fear
... but cheer
Spring is my happy time
... it tingles in the stomach
- // (not in the throat)
I want my freedom back
27.03.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
What Matters Most To You
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
2 place in the contest
Nicky, the neighbor’s dog, drags a road kill home.
A beautiful pelt like those fox shoulder garments women wore in the
forties.
But the head is crushed beyond recognition—maybe it’s a fox and that’s
why Nicky, a canine, is conducting this wake on our front lawn.
Loretta, my wife’s mother, is in the hospital again. Forty years of Crohn’s
disease has finally broken her.
It may take some time but she won’t bounce back from this episode.
None of us are sorry to see her die, not even Loretta. There will be a
thunderous downpour during her last hour.
I like the story about the nuns hitting Peg in school–contumacy is a sin.
Emile and Loretta considered it an inappropriate punishment for their
cherished adopted daughter.
So they pulled her out of Catholic for public school. They did their own
thinking about discipline.
Early Spring, peepers all night, then the birds take over at dawn.
Soothing—the mourning doves.
During this half of the year, May through October, we live in a green
bower.
We turn the house inside out, move into the mountains.
In their annual order, flowers appear in the understory: coltsfoot, hepatica
and trillium through to the end, late purple aster, spotted joe pye and
pearly everlasting.
We let Nicky nurse her road kill, watch over it, roll around on it.
Don’t let go of the steering wheel while driving fast in the passing lane.
Late April and only
coltsfoot—Tussilago farfara—breaking leaf litter.
Our daffodils, peonies and crocuses
are also making signs.
April is the cruelest month, I forget why.
A sweet slow Spring
no sudden changes
each leg and leaf unfolds deliberately. You can't miss it.
New York City's spring rushes like a yellow cab
into summer. One day leaves are wet,
next they’re leather. I prefer this slow dance,
birds mating on the sky, peepers evolving into frogs.
Repairs take weeks or months. Septic,
garage door, cracked windshield, clean windows,
build bridge, buy land, rake leaves off erosion control,
cut wood, prune lilac, paint lawn chairs.
More carefully inspect, identify, the insect
of the week, a fly with an ant’s body
that skirts the grass and falls in drinks.
Look more closely! It will be gone in a few days!
Then it will be the time of moths or fireflies,
mosquitoes and wasps. Mud road,
red-winged blackbird. The slashing stream
topples old trees. My legs hurt.
"Flowers fade and decay through wintry hours- waiting for rebirth."
Quote by - Constance La France
Each season has its own highlights
Flower life starts at the roadside
Coltsfoot, which humans classify as weed
A lovely sign of spring
Shrubs, trees and flowers come to life
everything germinates and grows
wood anemone, crocus and snowdrops
- a spot in the garden
Plants maintain the balance of life
Choosing a favorite is hard
Summer is a glorious spectacle
- when the blossoms explode
Time for a long hibernation
Preparing for the coming frost
Winter plants ice roses on the window
- creates sense of wonder
The decay and rebirth cycle
means everything is connected
With strength back into every living cell
- It feels as pure magic
@@@
Whistling
winter keeps us
silent.Cold moments
turn into bright yellow
buttons along the path.
The coltsfoot has flourished.
A few insects are beginning to stir.
Honeycombs stick sweetly in the
mouth. Changing surfaces, when
spring breaks.Makes your stomach
tingle with hypersensitive details
in this sonnet's time.Everyday
emotions rainbow painted
an verdure sheen,
overwhelming
excitement
@@
// @
// (¯`v´¯)
@ // @ (¯`(O)´¯)
(¯`v´¯) @ // (¯`v´¯) ( _. ._ )
(¯`(O)´¯) (¯`v´¯) // (¯`(O)´¯) @
( _. ._ ) (¯`(O)´¯) // ( _. ._ )
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Blowball and cankerwort,
words born from a common tongue.
English is most practical
when it is rustic and colloquial.
Lions tooth, priests crown,
moles salad and pee-a-bed.
‘Swine snout’ snorts loud upon the page.
The yarrow-yellow flowers last for hours
then overnight turn to fairy bones.
I recall us both sat upon the grass
blowing unfettered puffs into the wind,
our hair littered with stemmed parasols
the pirouetting flotsam of the airborne.
The French have alternate names,
herbal idioms difficult to spell,
but we savor together taraxacum
for it is a diuretic and wets the tongue,
as do the damply dunked sounds
of sneeze-helicopter's and
the muddy splatter of piggy snozzles.
Lions teeth are its leaf,
mix well with burdock
for a low tea under a shady tree.
Beware of false dandelions
such as cats ears and coltsfoot.
The Chinese, Pu Gong Ying
is the real thing.
After we had covered each other
with dandelion kisses
we made hay the old fashioned way.
Feel free to spell dandelion
the way you would write
a long sunny day.
Lost my energy... tired and exhausted in my body
My longing drives me like a high fever
Just the thought .... feel a bit lightheaded
Am I sick - should I see a doctor
No ... when I think about it ... it's spring fever
Beautiful spring ... long time to wait after a cold winter
Gorgeous birdsong in the air ... I have not waited in vain
Spring snow melts ... Snowdrops, coltsfoot and buds on trees
Taste of summer I must say. . . my time - so beautiful
The air is set with colors - and dipped in beautiful fragrances
I want to plant a little seed in the still cold ground
later the seed grow into a beautiful flower
Spring has opened my heart today -
and I can feel it in my whole body
Now I want to dance - dance with me
19.02.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Blossom of baby's breath,soft white gorse,crusted yellow, weeping willow rush patterned lace pastures a pastel green.Buttercup,daisy&comely cowslip mingle
&mix in fellowship swaying pelts of grass with purple vetch & ribwortplantain, clover in English rain.Scabious,burnets buttefliesand bees hawthorn and scented woodruff.Briar brambles sprawl,in dogrose so tall above harts-tongue The thinking eye,the abstract made visible a spatial convergence ,now liberated.
Imaginary ,incomplete feelings,beacons of vivacity,profound and positive.Intense inner sounds,a polyphony,the poet's soul,unfazed&free.Seabank with scattered seaweed & feathery fennel in aniseed;Alexander’s leaves so green this tender cusine.Welcome wholesome fat hen,vibrant shoots the vimen in Lamb’s lettuce in Jack-in-the-hedge in wild radish,cress&chive,where majoram &sweet cicely thrive.Seabeet,and chard also survive.Wild parsnip the confectioner,tansy to savour.Stinging nettles so green,peppermint oil pick-me-up, in coltsfoot syrup cup.