Long Pollens Poems
Long Pollens Poems. Below are the most popular long Pollens by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pollens poems by poem length and keyword.
A Garden rejoices when it envisions colourful exquisite blooms everywhere filling the empty spaces.
Lush green grasses are the attire it adorns and flowers become the embellishers.
Even a sad heart would feel enlightened & placid by visiting flowery garden.
In my heavenly serene garden.. once I sat and admired myriad flowers widely seducing the butterflies and bees through its aromatic succulent nectar and pollens..
They were all enjoying their appetizing feast.
At the same time..
I also noticed a pink hibiscus bud curled like a baby not wanting to bloom,preferring to remain a virgin..!!
I keenly observed as the butterflies were trying to kiss the petals and black bees constantly humming tunes to arouse it.
The mother hibiscus did not bother
Instead kept preparing herself to wither as her time was over.
The tiny bud wrapped the petals tight, covered her face and thoroughly weeped cogitating about losing her mom shortly and simultaneously scared by her predators who were competing around to conquer her heart.
Witnessing the struggle there climbs a saviour ant with his warrior team to save her from the trouble.He reaches to stimulate the tip & guarantee her that she will be safe and consoled her to stop worrying unnecessarily.
In few minutes competitors flew away and the bud was free from fear.
Visitor ants said "cheers" and left .
Mother flower bid good "bye" and shrivelled..
As the little one slowly unwrapped her petals to look at her world ..
A tear drop, up from the sky fell upon finally to deflower her.
She being fragile, now bloomed to be the most attractive flower in the garden.
I stood up went closer ,smiled at the blossom captured a picture and conveyed my first good "Hi."
28-7-2020
Second place in the contest.
Note:Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies!
Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Silent One.
Bumble Bee Hiku 37
b u z z i n g b u m b l e b e e
e n s a
l . . . . p
l a
o . . . . c
s p r e a d s p . . . . . e~
n a t u r e`s g ~e ~n ~t ~l ~e m -y –s –t –e –r –y.
Deadly sins
1. Strange, I can't recall if I had breakfast yesterday,
I can remember what kind of pollens made you sneeze twice that Tuesday.
If only you knew how many times I called your name when I was drunk,
Or sober
Or how many times I had to drive two hours back to stop myself from ringing your bell.
I have only grown dumber
2. Gawking at her glowing skin in a two-piece red. An ethereal canvas that could make a straight woman bend.
Water trickles snake-like down your abdomen like rain on my window. Stunning blue orbs, wish you could lend
Biting my lips, tried to look away when you caught my eyes. So embarrassed, choked ''hi ''
3. Sing to me about your infatuation in the voice of Mr. Tortoise marked with his tattoo.
Lie to me. Kiss him. Babe, add me to the queue.
Say all the right things when the lights in his eyes go dim and I can't see
Go against gravity if I need to; you will fall back to me.
4. Stunning forest green eyes, a demi God body like mine. Striking! Try to keep me from you?
Overqualified to be your crush. Watch the whole world stare when I am with thee.
Your pretend, trying to play it cool. I could have anyone in the universe.
I guess you could say you are truly blessed.
.
Redolent, posh lyrics have hidden flaws.
Surrounded by a rusty sapphire sanctuary
That dampened the beauteous bronze glow.
Gold-sparkly afterglows can be sumptuary.
Surrounded by a rusty sapphire sanctuary
with acidic pollens and nervous neon wisps
Gold-sparkly afterglows can be sumptuary.
built an array of dark and wicked tale tips.
With acidic pollens and nervous neon wisps
Where platinum wings are tightly encased,
built by an array of dark and wicked tale tips.
With ash, in the dawn of solace, unlaced.
Where platinum wings are tightly encased,
I wake anxious, wailing rain, loving the flute.
With ash, in the dawn of solace, unlaced.
Melding dark poem of doom into wool toot.
I wake anxious, wailing rain, loving the flute.
That dampened the beauteous bronze glow.
Melding dark poem of doom into wool toot.
Redolent, posh lyrics have hidden flaws.
Written: January 27, 2023
"Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower there is no more, in the leafless root there is no less" - Ralph Waldo Emerson
I'm a sunflower,
dipped in honey of
bittersweet bronze smiles,
admiring its soulmate
strolling around the sun,
in sombre shine of
eclipsed dawn, whilst
these faes lure poisoned
pollens with flaming
ruby red ocean foams,
And I see a peculiar
patchwork on knitted
canopies, which are
sprouting clayey hearts
out of crimson crooned
willow branches.
Crumbling to pixies,
falling lifeless like fragile
leaflets in autumnal carols,
I believe, twin flame
telepathy is a souvenir
of roses and thorns,
which emerges as wanton
wildfire on the brim of
ocean's moon-song
in mellifluous mystery,
outlining turmoil in
turquoise land of trolls.
For, magnetised feathers
on matte lips always get
soaked in ashey sighs
of regret, whenever
bewitching conspiracy
of his amethyst eyes,
befalls in dialects of
forest's echoes and the
brittle skin of basilisk
slithers with a deadly gaze
upon my mulberry heart.
Chasing seasonal winds,
I became the fading mist
that succumbs to the
sheath of amber rays,
infusing in my lungs,
and suffocating my love for life;
Amidst these broken skies,
you left shadows of
pencil-sketched debris,
that float like wisps
of faulty daffodils,
distorting my dreams
and twisting thy truths,
in hellfire horizon that
sets our graves apart,
beyond million miles of
satanic soliloquies.
Languishing within seed was a gigantic tree,
interned through genetic code by the almighty,
furtive, stay buried, to withstand time’s vagary,
ever can human tasks equal this mystery?
streams of ants, leaf flags,will not pause till job done!
Moon shines bright and white, travels over dark night sky,
year recounts seasons, as earth spins around the Sun,
streaks of lights like meteors, stop! admire! firefly!
tiny pollens make fruits, invite bees with nectar!
eggs with flimsy shells! but withstand a heavy storm!
rivers hold million lives, flowing miles, mountains far,
innumerable are these wonders out us to charm!
each of us like specks of dust in this universe,
souls unseen tied to God, creation so diverse!
2nd placement
written 05/Dec/ 2020
reformatted to 12 syllables per line for the contest! 12/12/2020
Life’s Mysteries acrostic poetry contest
John Hamilton sponsored
14 lines with abab, cdcd, efef, gg 12 syllables each line!
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And the birds are chirping
And singing their happy songs.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And the bees are pollinating the
Blossoms in the flowers and trees.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
But there is another side to Spring
To which we should all be aware.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And we are enthralled by its beauty.
But be wise and advised of its dark side.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
But that doesn't mean
We don't have a care.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And so are mosquitoes
And other undesirables.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And so are allergenic pollens.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And so are bees and wasps.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And hibernators are out.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And the snow is melting,
Causing massive landslides
And flooding the lowlands.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And flies, flees, and snakes
Are looking for things to eat.
SPRING IS IN THE AIR
And it's a great time of the year.
And we need not worry, fret, or fear.
But there are some things out there
That might engender a tear.
012923PS
Inspired by Michelle Faulkner's contest theme
but not qualified for submission to the contest.
1.
observing the ardent eagerness of the wind
it is clearly understood
that nascent pollens are overflowing
the niche of her heart
in response to the signals of the river
she keeps on ringing
all long the month of earth-quakes
the bench of the rail-station
wants to hug her
the medicine-counter of the ***-end of the day
beckons her with the hand to come nearer
in the assembly-hall for musical demonstration
adorned with ash-trays
going on the rehearsal of her dancing and singing
she also distributes some life
to the meticulous dressing
of the magnolia
2.
let the swimming pool be fully absorbed
with its dark-room
when the feather of your fore-finger
becomes green
the merchant of venice
will leave his business of photo-coping machine
to start walking directly
in search of new earnings
evening sets in
on the boiler of the delta
putting on yellow-dress comes
the water-vessel of the paper-balloon
there is no singing bird
shivering with cold
in the fold of the dear bed-sheet
it is possible that the boldness of the metro-railway
may give some wood of tamarisk
on the expanded palms
yet oh the western page of night
do tell today
why so much tamed polythene
are here in our cohabitation
3.
after so many days
published in the wind
painted in wings
the recent heart’s desire
of the doors and windows
they have rolled up their fairy-tales
from the ignorant drawing-room that wanted
to set her mind to the hill slanting downward
they did not want to know
how much rheumatism is there
in the hands and legs of the bark
to whom is delegated
the control of the mason-made bus-journey
sleep hugs the eye-lids of the rivers
though there is no postage-stamp
within the reaching-point
then what magic is there
in the hill slanting downward
why the wall does not learn
how to swim like a fish
truly it is he from whom
those negligible moments of man-ism
itch for blue candle-stand
Of all creatures in my ornamental garden, simple,
I admire and adore you, O butterfly beautiful!
Might be due to your tenderness or feebleness,
Or even just because of your very beautifulness...
I see you enjoying your experimental world,
With freedom, fearlessness, and joy abundant;
You sit upon whatsoever flower you want,
Inhaling freely their nectar whenever you need;
Fluttering your wings freely as and when you like,
Flying away from even best of flowers you dislike;
When you sit on some flowers you show endlessness,
While on others you seem to display hurriedness;
When you fly away from flowers you give an impression,
As though dusting pollens and thus enabling pollination;
When you fly you seem flying like an airplane nonstop,
At varying speeds and zigzag or flip-flap or hip-hop;
Often your unavailability of time you exhibit,
And stay lesser than soap-bubbles or fastest tied;
Yet you seem to enjoy each and every moment,
And displaying enthusiasm and freedom, and zest;
A miniature universe in yourself, you resemble
With forms, shapes, colors, and glamorous full;
How brief, indeed, O butterfly, is your lifespan!
Yet, are you worried at all about any hell or heaven?
7th May 2021
Nature Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
I'm okay, you're okay is a mask in the land of pretend.
Being cool as a cucumber is okay for cowards.
Pollens cannot always hide themselves within soft flowers.
Breaking from established norms is sometimes necessary.
Why should minds be wrapped by a pacification airy?
Compromises and negotiations do not last long.
How long shall we, like logs on river water, shift along?
Shouldn't we, first and foremost, to our very selves, belong?
Why should our voice always sound like a challenge-less birdsong?
Humility, though a virtue, demands questioning too.
Within smiles of appeasement, feelings of grudge must not brew.
I need not feel I am okay, but you are not okay.
I needn't, yet, forget that each one has his or her say...
I must adjust when needed; I need not be a doormat.
Why should tigers feel as though they're negotiable cats?
Confrontations and encounters enable us to bloom.
Mere mollification will finally bring one's self-doom...