Long Honeysuckle Poems
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I relax in the shade of the whitewashed porch
as my gnarled hands caress the arms
of the creaking rocking chair -
it was my late Gran’s favorite possession
I’ve been fortunate to be able to lease her cottage
the temperate climate here boosts my spirits
My once rosy complexion is pallid -
the doctor says my time is running out ...
soon I’ll be at eternal peace in heaven
I’m constantly tired ...
even the simplest chores exhaust me
I’ve neglected the cottage garden
it pains me to see the sweet honeysuckle
left untrimmed and straggly
yet, I wait patiently for its gold buds to burst open
releasing its stunning scent on the zephyr breeze
Required words :- temperate, buds, lease, possession, heaven, complexion, eternal, gold, untrimmed, shade.
A Summer's Day Redo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Michelle Faulkner
8/12/19
Let me walk into the mountains
where the air is fresh and sweet,
where wind whispers through tree branches
around which creep the nectar honeysuckle and wild grape,
in the morning stillness,
pure as breath from God
that moved upon the waters when earth was born;
I will bring my weary spirit and find rest.
I will walk along the hollows,
trace the finger paths of God
where He carved the rugged creek beds
and fed the soil with flowers,
columbine and orchid, wild;
there He will feed this world worn child.
Let me tarry in the mountains,
listen to creation sing
lay me down upon moss carpet
beside a spring, sparkling and clear,
drink in the peaceful quiet, feel earth's healing touch.
I will linger until evening
when soft mists slip through the vales,
swaddling heights with haze blue beauty
as tender twilight swells, sunlight fading,
bending low to lay a glow kiss on mountain face.
Copyright, July 11, 2016
Faye Lanham Gibson
Flow to us from heaven
It's a magical meaning
Dressed in colors
Hypnotic trance
Beautiful as honeysuckle
Breathe the smell
The beauty of a new day
An endless fountain,
of sun rays
Welcome newborn morning
A ruby of light
07.06.2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Taking a blanket they headed for their favourite spot
a secluded place in a glade beside the gurgling river
this haven was filled with the scent of damask roses
and sweet honeysuckle grew rampantly up the trees
Laying the fleecy blanket on the soft grassy ground
sank down into each others arms with gentle sighs
the moonlight was filtering down between the trees
lending a sense of romance, oh how they loved it here
Slowly. softly they began to caress gently stirring passions
their exuberant loving sighs carrying in the still night airs
afterwards they would lie spoon shaped, sated by love
then slowly they gathered up their blanket with a last kiss
Time now to return to their every day life's of the mundane
treasuring these stolen hours that added most romantic spice
after twenty five years of marriage and raising five children
it was these precious moments that renewed their love
Strolling down the old, gray, cobblestone path, encircled by soft shade,
Golden plumes enhanced by indigo and violet are visible as light fades.
The emerald and clover leaves of willows weep, drooping from limbs overhead,
bubbling, trickling, water is audible from a nearby creek bed.
Freesia, Lavender, and sweet honeysuckle scents hang in the air.
Succulent, juicy, and tempting ripe fruit hang everywhere.
Desiring a taste, I clutch a shimmering, burgundy plum,
I lose myself in the decadence of its flesh on my tongue.
Suddenly, a soft, gentle breeze teases my hair, tickling my skin,
Alas, I awaken, to pull on my overalls, and head outside and begin,
It’s not as perfect as what my dreams held within,
not as fragrant, shady, or filled to the brim,
but as I bite the product of my own hard work again,
I realize it’s MY perfect garden.
Written: April 18, 2025, for Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand
********************
. . . here comes the m o o n
taking shape as a girl
her golden skin, aglow
peering through the door
and slipping into the room
I grasp her across
the crowded space
cerulean hair cascading
as a waterfall over rounded
c r e a m y shoulders
her eyes glinting as twin stars
are framed by a curving smile
that splits her shell-pink lips
as our gazes lock,
such a gentle breeze
that tease spring buds
her laughter carries
a sweet scent of honeysuckle
beckoning me to step closer
here comes warmth
a candle soft flicker
and amber flames dance silently
around the silhouette of her curves
shadowed with f e r vo r
winding through a maze of people
I find her waiting
beneath the half-moon
her hands outstretched
like a lifeline
pulling me from dark waters
our fingers intertwine—
her skin is smooth
like sateen sheets
I twist myself into
the folds of her body
as her silken velvet voice
melts between teeth like
sumptuous chocolate mousse
our parched mouths meet
kisses crash like thundering waves
drinking in the tart berry sweetness
and savoring every flavor of her
here comes desire
a flash of your eyes
a kaleidoscope of storms
reflected in the blue—
caught within the blue
swirling like northern lights
on a cold winter night
I lay dazed and amused
drawn to your smile
here comes a kiss
upon our warm, starlit lips
and I inhale your scent
a sweet, rare perfume aura
under sheets of rolling hills
caressed by moonlight
the river whispers
“drown in my f l o w.”
Fallen petals from a funeral wreath,
freshly dug-earth,
and a hint of rot…
linger in the graveyard air
and mingle with the living scents
of the spring breeze—
of lilac and honeysuckle,
and the more elusive smell
of memories and of prayers
They are present here,
as she sits beside his grave
Recalling with eerie detail
the lines of his face, the love in his eyes
And wonders with morbid thoughts
how those features have transformed now
As she contemplates
what lay beneath the earth’s crust
and what similar fate awaits her,
there comes a new smell among
the stones and moss—
An overwhelming smell of fear.
SERENDIPITY
commercialized like dippity-do
— the extra hold hair gel.
sounds like supercalifragilisticexpialidocious*
so fresh; and clean —
a nonsense word used
when you have nothing else to say.
and let’s not forget serenity now**
yelled uncontrollably
when you need to calm down.
one more, s’il vous plaîs:***
serene, dip, dippity-doo-da-yay!
s-e-r-e-n-d-i-p-i-t-y
yes, i love to play with you
my loquacious love.
defined as: (remember to say it fast and pedantically)
the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable
(take a breath) or agreeable things not sought for****
i close my eyes in a honeysuckle fog.
the scent surprises me, dabs on my pulse points.
!!!!!!!!
i open my lids, and a friend,
i haven’t seen in eons, says hello.
!!!!!!!!!
my husband twirls me about
“serendipity” he says as he whisks me away to Paris.
!!!!!!!!!!
thus, i shall place my favorite word
in your hand like a flutterby,
i mean, of course, a butterfly —
the prism-break of
r-o-y-g-b-p and moonbows.
perhaps... i’ll look into my palm
and see your word placed there.
i draw a breath, my heart races — and yes —
it’s serendipity all over again.
8/16/2019
Favorite Word Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Cooke
*Mary Poppins
**Seinfeld
***s’il vous plaîs - (sel-vü-ple) French meaning “if you please”
****from Merriam-Webster
You might wonder about my use of flutterby.
My brother used to give this word as a one
word clue to get me to say butterfly.
Walk with me
along the pale green shadows that fall
on the thin and winding pathways of the wood
where all is quiet and full of growth
wet with the drops of midnight rain.
Breathe in softly,
the heavy laden air
thick and burdened by the drops.
Keep watch at every step
as large and small puddles form
that lay stationary for a moment
then flow downhill to the ponds
where the river runs cascading on the stoners.
Stop a moment
hold your place
take in the view.
Listen to the sounds
birdsong as it fades in and out the trees
wind rustling branch and leaves
where deer step and pause at their surroundings
and squirrel and chipmunk chatter in chase.
Catch the sun
slipping thru the canopy
with light rays resting in the shade.
Smell the scent wafting in the wood
where pine and honeysuckle burst on the air
and every rain drop blushes in innocent clarity
wafting across the damp wet fallen leaves
left from autumn's winter.
Walk with me
escape the hurried pace of the outer world
and submit to the marvels of nature's blessings.
Life is strong and fragile. It’s a paradox… it’s both things, like quantum physics: It’s a particle and a wave at the same time. It all exists all together. —Joan Jett
Connotations of Life
Night birds and daydreams in Edenic oak tree.
The salty tongue and lullabye of beachy blue sea.
Rumination of childhood ‘neath honeysuckle sun.
Red, raw, fulgent, overcome by the heft of the sun.
The fruitless and barren virtuosity of Adam’s tree.
Catacombs and sawlike teeth squatting in the sea.
The thrill of tides, embraced by the bosom of the sea.
Flickering flame or blinding heat tempered by the sun.
Sanity climbing the boughs or crepitant branches of tree.
O tree keep me above uncanny sea; soothe me with the sun.