Long Delphiniums Poems
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Brilliant, grandiloquent, magnificent, trenchant...
Writing prompts burst asunder
deafening soundcloud roared
with apocalyptic thunder
'course only audible to yours truly,
I did dumbfoundedly wonder...
At o'clock tick tocking wee hours brisk
December seventeenth
two thousand nineteen
simultaneous blinding fiery kindling
quickening xing risk
within winkin blinkin and nod,
I feared full light of day brainstorm
snatched away courtesy invisible whisk
broom all those potential
ideas sprung while
Messiah by George Frideric
Handel's never out of style
within cerebral nooks and
crannies (think Ohiopyle),
whereby Youghiogheny River
bubbles, gurgles, fuels river mile
after mile harnesses and doth generate
approximately twelve Megawatts
of electricity per hour, to alleviate
domestic counting eight
thousand homes necessitate
distributed across western
and central Pennsylvania.
Analogous catching
courtesy goo goo dolls barenaked
ladies hands spawning
salmon slippery as an eel
(if curious don't take my word,
which might not appeal)
though yours truly
offers no guarantee,
you could easily fall
overboard as ye kneel,
which subsequently offers
live human meal
to hungry sharks, impossible mission
to escape no matter
how loud you squeal,
bouquets delphiniums and daisies
designate watery grave site
dissolving blood amidst the color teal.
Aforementioned depiction, whereby current
commander in chief
admittedly no gent
till man nor scholar, and
he cavalierly lent
and nearly fin hushed nearly
(possibly already) rent
asunder high crimes and
misdemeanors, he casually spent
constitutional principles of democracy,
whereby I experience torment
precipitating quasi riptides undercurrent
bigotry, demagoguery, "fakery,"...
misogyny, vanity vetted vice
whereby woebegone grievances
Pandora's box loosed
helter skelter they went.
Anyway... synonymous maintaining
readership attention blinker
necessary to apply unsuspecting
hook, line and sinker
without rousing ire principal
(at Henry Kline elementary
my dear watson Mister Rinker)
long since retired,
he possibly maybe grandfather
of one or more freethinker.
In spring, when delphiniums are in bloom fair
Come to my garden where I will meet you then
We will talk about life and love without a care
When spring comes, the earth is young again
As everything comes alive, trees begin to thrive
Come to me when the apple trees are white shining
In the spring when the young corn plants survive
But will you stay when winter's white is pining
When the white snow is on the mountain top
And those northerly breezes bitingly blow
Will you still look forward to seeing the snowdrop
When the garden is aged, wrinkled and slow
Youth has loves advantage in strength and beauty
True love through age and wisdom fulfills its duty
dance party of summer
blue waves rock and roll
seashore tides shimmy and shake ~
sunlight tap dances
white clouds pirouette
delphiniums deep plies ~
ebb tides grand jettes
meadows slowly waltz
forests polka with raindrops ~
breezes minuet
willow trees tango
sunflowers skip jump and jive ~
moon does the hustle
butterflies slow dance
ladybugs groove in two-step ~
surfside twists and shouts
shooting stars moon walk
tide pools salsa dancing ~
birch trees swing and sway
dandelions stroll
fields of daisies jitterbug ~
long days zydeco
swift rivers rumba
rapids mambo in quickstep ~
starshine at the hop
Sweet blue indigo were your eyes,
sometimes they appeared almost black
but in their reflection, I saw clear sky blue
with floating pastel aqua painted clouds.
In your tended garden, soft pale cyan croci rose
followed by tall taunt blue cornflowers
that stretched between the graceful cobalt delphiniums
that stood before summer cerulean hydrangeas.
Your laugh filled the garden with sapphire irises
that lived for but a day or two
and in the walking tour of flowers displayed,
each shade danced into a Persian setting sun.
Passing now those recalled memories and scents
I smell sweet lavender fill the air
and in my loneliness without you
the blue celeste fades to paler shades and hues.
The mix of white and gray shadow accompany me
and the sky turns cerulean tinged gray
and I wipe away the tears from my azure faded eyes
as blue midnights wrap around my heart.
Now, tincture steps into unblushed sky of winter
and all the colors tend to fade and disappear
like you.
Serenity Of Blue
As in our rivers' varied tints of blues,
the color blends are peaceful and serene,
in ripples of reflective color hues
that mirror mix of sky and hills of green.
Yet, 'midst the flowers in our fields that grow,
real blue in blooms is very scarce indeed.
The few we see will thrill us with their show;
Delphiniums or blue wildflower weeds.
And too, in foods the color blue is rare
most fruits display a color that attracts,
like tangerine, red apple, plum, and pear;
somehow the color blue in food detracts.
So nature gifts us blues in soft sky blue
reflected in her rivers, lakes or seas.
Though rarest of earth colors, it is true,
serenity of blue will always please.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Mid-May Standard
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 05/14/2018
~2nd Place~
Contest: The Color Blue
Sponsor: Janis Thompson
Judged: 01/30/2017
My elderly friend and I walk along
the raised flower beds
full of rainbows of blooms,
becoming the mother and daughter
in the famous Renoir painting,
now with the daughter grown up.
We slow our pace,
gazing at pink and yellow dahlias,
velvety purple salvias, blue delphiniums,
hanging baskets of pink bleeding hearts,
red begonias everywhere we look.
Greenery frames the fountain’s dancing spray.
Down the paths of roses,
yellow, orange, white, lavender,
fuchsia, and bright red,
sunlight catches on my friend’s white hair
and the silver metal of her walker.
We stop at a carousel, watching
the pastel horses, the frog, the pig,
the cat with its fish, the goose, and the rabbit
rise and fall, round and round,
until she turns to me.
We part, as I head to ponds of lilies,
surrounded by orange flowers
I don’t recognize.
I picture my friend, smiling amid the roses,
her words echoing inside my mind:
I’m holding you back...back...back...
Go see the rest of the garden.
Go see the rest of the garden.
March 13,2021
Flower or Flowers in Imagism Form Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Note: This is a poem I wrote for my self-published chapbook Song of the Katabatic Wind: Poetry of Travel through Western Canada, which was made for a church fundraiser.
It was summer in the mountains,
Daisies, bees and poison ivy surrounding
The little creek where my feet swung down,
Swaying gently over the trickling water…
Betraying the heat with its coolness,
Its calm – serene like the world where I came from,
A world of laughter, beauty and grace…
Where granny worked and prayed,
Where mama didn’t see any shame in repenting
For sins that were taken away by the Savior,
The grace that remained when He went to heaven
To await the day when we would come to stay
With Him, in paradise… in praise, in eternity
Fading into the summer praises, the lupines
In colors of elaborate violet – dusty rose delphiniums,
Imperial hues of breathless roses, blushing beauties
Brilliant and bright, hoping for the moment when rain
Bruises the petals and suggests to them a joy
Far beyond the miracles invading breathless whispers,
Rainfall moments and sun, so alive it feels nearly timeless,
Blessing the leaves, silently fawning – mysteries
While all the world searches for the wonders of these
Gracious colors, admiring – honoring the beautiful,
My little cousin eating pies I created
With two chubby hands, pies two times the size
Of the pot pie pans that taught me the meaning of
Recycling… they were leftover trinkets from a mother
Who believed in me, she’d found her reason
But me … I was only happy to know the freedom
Creating mud pies on the banks of a creek that treated
Me like the wish for giggles, the craving for fanciful
Dreams who walk away from the heart
Misty eyed and prayerful, erasing the lost
Hopes, replacing them with promises
For a coloring book life… made from joy and hope,
Kindness that fills up the soul, a wildness
That comes from being that little girl who grows
Cousins from the mud pies she baked in the sun,
Urging them to gorge themselves with…
And, they still loved her, despite her baking skills!
A faint perfume of lilac blooms has stirred the sleeping dawn
Bright sunlight weaves a golden loom with threads across the lawn
Crisp white-lipped Delphiniums tossed snowflakes to the hills, while
Daffodils and pink jonquils shake off the morning chill
Each violet of morning has left no stone deferred
Found growing near, a sprout appears from every seed interred!
Greeting me like candle flames, are poppies, gold and red
Hawthorne weaves a golden crown around the arbor's head!
I look long past the windowpane, and spring has bloomed anew,
just in time to see the sky revealed in shades of blue
knitting primroses in surprise! A sight long overdue!
Lost between the flagstones, alyssum, wild and free, has
mushroomed into puffs of white, competing with sweet peas!
New sprouts of cosmos spring alive in flowerbeds we've teased
On winter's lace a pansy face is smiling up at last!
Petunias in their pastel coats, are dressed like royalty
Queen of all in velvet robes, the iris crowns the grass!
Resplendent are the foxgloves…..and the dragons are a Snap!
Sweet Williams are such gentlemen, they make the morning grand
Tiger lilies brave the wind, stalking in the breeze
Under every shady tree, violas are reprieved, while
verdant shades of primrose lace wear green upon their sleeves
Wisteria's hysteria spreads levity with ease!
Xanadu is Statice "quo"……now, what more could it do?
Yarrow blooms tomorrow. I'll have to dry a few
Zinnias mean that spring has sprung, to share fresh air with you!
____________________________________________________
"Spring Is In The Air" Contest Form ..... A to Z (Abecedarian)
3/4/18
Boundless Blue
Born in a misty rainbow,
Blue slips out from her place
between her sisters Green and Violet,
painting the heavens azure,
covering the earth like the robe of Virgin Mary.
She floats into the ocean in a navy dress,
then waltzes on waves of the Danube.
Sailing the teal waters of alpine lakes,
she journeys to glaciers,
leaving her daiquiri-colored footprints on glacial ice,
taking some with her to cool the fires of Robert Frost.
She treads into meadows and gardens,
planting delphiniums, lupines, hydrangeas,
bluebells, and cornflowers to sprout in her wake,
with morning glories to climb fences.
People copy her free spirit,
painting their china in Delft and willow patterns,
sing “Blue Suede Shoes,” “Blue Velvet,”
“Blue Moon,” “Blue Hawaii,”
even play “Rhapsody in Blue” on their pianos,
blow their cobalt glass, dye their denims,
even their ice cream and candy.
They try to capture her lapis, turquoise, and royal sapphires,
pressing them into frames of silver and gold,
hanging them on chains.
She smiles at their craftsmanship,
then saunters down the path to the forest,
seeming to sway to her own swingy music.
With only her blue tick hound trotting beside her,
she picks wild blueberries, savoring the tart fruit
as its indigo juice runs down her fingers.
This poem was inspired by Meenakshi Raina's "Optimistic Orange". That poem is a great example of how fun it is to write about and personify a color. I encourage the rest of you to try it!
Contest: All Yours (May 5)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
5-5-21