Long Walled garden Poems
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The fairest of all the roses
in the walled garden’s afternoon hush,
this blossom delicately poses,
making the other blooms blush,
In the walled garden’s afternoon hush,
while standing enticingly
making the other blooms blush,
is a beauty gazing at me.
While standing enticingly,
with her soft upswept auburn hair,
is a beauty gazing at me.
She answers this lonely man’s prayer!
With soft upswept auburn hair;
in her long flowing gown of white,
she answers this lonely man’s prayer,
making the garden grow bright.
In her long flowing gown of white,
this blossom delicately poses,
making the garden grow bright -
the fairest of all the roses!
For the George Dunlop Leslie Poetry Contest of Isaiah Zerbst
The Picture is called "In Walled Garden" See at this link: http://www.ebay.com/itm/GEORGE-DUNLOP-LESLIE-In-Walled-Garden-print-NEW-/190409030838
I drink much less than most people think,
and I drink much more from the well of thoughts,
where time flows like a gentle brook,
whispering secrets of an unperceived world.
A solitary soul in a sea of beings,
I wander through the deserts of my own mind,
where illusions of understanding shimmer,
yet never fully retreat.
I am a bastion of sincerity,
in a landscape troubled by ephemeral jokes.
My truths, heavy and unmovable,
stand like ancient monoliths,
unmoved by the winds of common worries.
Indifference becomes my armor,
against the battering rams of trivial concerns.
The world spins in its collective dance,
but I remain, a solitary ghost,
outside the perimeter of their whirls.
I hear the symphony of storms,
the relentless hymns of the winds,
elements clashing in a primordial concert,
but they pass through me,
like light through an ethereal mist.
No species, no kin, no flock embraces me:
I am solitary in this vast society,
my heart, a walled garden, unseen,
untouched by the entangled vines
that root others in their realms.
In the twilight hours,
when shadows stretch and silence sings,
I walk the dim corridors of thought,
each step echoing in the halls of memory,
each breath a whisper of forgotten dreams.
Thus, in this quiet, melancholic journey,
I remain a solitary sentinel,
a keeper of unsung songs,
in a world full of unheeded voices.
~~
A garden with walls high and deep
Brilliant daisies swaying in the sweet breeze
Cabbage, cauliflower and leeks thriving, flourishing
Down crunching gravel paths I dance
Everything in this garden is lush and profuse
Fig trees for the plucking
Gooseberry and red currant bushes, heavy with fruit
Harmonies of birds, drift all about and above
In my dream, I walk with beauty
Jasmine kisses my soul
Keep me in this glorious paradise
Lilac trees perfume the air
Morning glory set my heart at rest
Now, I listen to the ripple of a stream
On the surface, water lilies float lazily
Peach trees, old and gnarled like old men stand guard
Quince, with glossy, bushy leaves grow against a wall
Rows of pumpkins glow in the sun
Strawberry patches, sweet and tasty beckon me
Tangled purple grapes hang from branches
Under a trellis, a bench to pause
Vines of red roses trail and dangle sweetly
Wasps buzz and bees hover, butterflies rest
Xanadu exists beyond my closed eyes
Yams, potatoes ready to harvest are waiting
Zucchini, tomatoes, and carrots ripe for the picking
_______________________________
August 18, 2014
Poetry/Abecedarian/A Walled Garden
Copyright Protected, ID 08-591-906-18
All Rights Reserved, 2014, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, 101 In A Row - 4
sponsor, Poet Destroyer, Judged 09/2014
Fifth Place
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Written for the Standard contest Abecedarian
sponsor, Shadow Hamilton, Judged 08/2014
First Place