Long Wild flower Poems
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List of things to do before
I fall in love again
I allow my mind to take me
Into the
A wild opened fields
where the grass is turning brown in spots
^
There’s one
Wild flower
And
Dozens of
Scattered pebbles,
Under my feet
^
Taunted memories,
Bare trees with bend trunks
A cool breeze washes my face
No more umbrella tree
To relief me from
Ray of the sun
I squint from the sun in my eyes
^
To
Think of the ghost in my past
Or to deal with the
Ray of the sun
^
Lists of things to do before
I fall I love again
Buried the pain
Low the drawbridge
or
Keep the enemy out
^
I want to be happier
Than I‘ve ever been
To
Fall in love again
^
I buried
Painful memories
Under the bare umbrella trees
sleeping (( COLLABORATION * Don Johnson ))
by~ DON JOHNSON
The Nullabor it does abhor
the desert in it standing
The broken heart
he keeps apart
where Eagles are a landing
kangaroo is prolific cos good seasons bring in millions
they shoot them for the last hundred years,
Hoppy is still there in millions
Almost a plague after rain
The cure the joy the madness ploy, just catch a little Shiela
but broken hearts tend to self destroy
The one true love, to feel her
so searching for the lock of eyes upon the Nullabor
kangaroo does abound, dead straight the road for sure
Ironic tale sour grapes inhale,
He sleeps upon the plain
his swag is near the old Ute, and the dog is ever watchful
his protector is a beaut
~civilization calls~
he has to go back to the city streets
And searching ever searching for the eyes of lady sweet.
***by~ POET D:
Searching and searching till weak eyes fall asleep.
~civilization calls~
Calls the plague of raining streets!
The sleeping kangaroo took me into the abyss of sour grapes.
A wildlife with wildfire turned over by wildflowers.
Seascapes; full of sand that no one dared to understand!
Drowning underwater in a universe that had no expand.
Where the passer-by's felt the expression of sadness in his sleeping face.
All it took was experiencing the world with one lonely look.
A grain of salt, in the night sky!
Where clouds ‘walk-sneak and / clouds-cry like a whirlpool’,
Tears from a near by fountain deep in a valley.
Where we can sing for roo's sleeping heart.
Death in a wild flower mourning asleep on the hour.
Seeing’ is believing when Shiela appeared.
Drying tears with her sweet eyes over the desert lands.
A Collaboration with *DON JOHNSON
~MY COLLABORATION CONTEST~
An unpretentious wild flower
Peeped out of the crannied stone ledge
A peach coloured blossom
With bright yellow stamens around her navel
She had an exquisite charm
With a seductive smile
So pretty that she could put to shame
Her garden cousins stationed high
She nodded her head in the breeze
As if to invite the footloose ramblers
Who might chance to pass that way
To feast on her beauty
And taste her fragrance
Ere she falls down dead
Sans parting knell
Sans ceremony
In that wilderness
In another day's time,
Unnoticed,
Untouched
Unsung!
Sep.3. 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Life charges up and down hills so fast
One day you are biting your cousin
And they are laughing because you are two.
But not your cousin of course.
In a blink of a wild flower,
you are clunking around in Mommy’s heels.
Thinking you are “all that”
because tomorrow you start kindergarten.
Before you kick off the second horrible shoe
You are learning to ride a bike without extra wheels.
Around and around in circles I go,
and then poof!
It is summer camp, church camp.
Lots of girls are taking Bible recitation seriously.
My friend and I are talking about music and hot guys.
We have started to blossom, and we are amazed.
It is prom today, and I am irritated my date is drinking too much.
I decide to drive myself home and let him walk.
I get his car keys by lying,
But probably save the fool’s life when I do.
Marriage was short-lived, to someone else, not to that guy.
I am fifty now with a child who does not speak to me.
Glad I have my childhood friends.
They are lonely now, abandoned by their husbands.
We form a little group, and marvel that we were eleven yesterday.
Poof! Guess what?
We are now seventy.
Does anyone else know that we are twelve-year-olds on the inside?
Still blossoming and still amazing?
Oh, I love when music and nature blend,
into an unbroken rhapsody with no end;
for nature will always and ever be my friend,
those twittering birds as violins mend;
to merge with the wind where peace descends,
and here in the forest many hours I spend.
I walk in an overture of sweet sounds,
floating, drifting in the throbbing that surrounds;
the music of the green forest astounds,
with foliage that grows in all the turnarounds;
and endless are the wild flower that abounds.
I am one with forest beauty that entangles me,
the mingling of natures music is the key;
for nothing is more lovely than embracing a tree.
_____________________________
February 8, 2019
Poetry/Rhyme/Rhapsody of the Forest
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1113-022-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Entered in Contest 555
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
Deep poetry has its own reality
Instrumental in setting the mind free
From the confinement of this mundane world
Transporting us to wondrous realms untold
It is manifested in Blake's poetry
Which uplifts the mind and sets it free
A heaven is seen in a wildflower
Eternity is viewed in an hour
Khayyam's moving finger writes on time's wall
Once written, there's no erasing at all
Rumi's beloved is a different kind
A manifestation of the divine
With Shelley's skylark and Keats nightingale
The music of their birdsong tells the tale
A world beyond what we normally see
The world of deep poetry's reality
REFERENCES:
1) Auguries of Innocence
- William Blake
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
2) The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
- Omar Khayyam
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
3) Oh Beloved
- Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Oh Beloved,
take me.
Liberate my soul.
Fill me with your love and
release me from the two worlds.
If I set my heart on anything but you
let fire burn me from inside.
Oh Beloved,
take away what I want.
Take away what I do.
Take away what I need.
Take away everything
that takes me from you.
4) To a Skylark
- Percy Byshe Shelley
5) Ode to a Nightingale
- John Keats
The above-stated poems reflect the world of deep poetry reality that I have mentioned.
City life had stripped me bare
Feeling lost and lonely with no care
The wall of discontent blocked my path
Why did I not see it coming from the start?
I closed my eyes, and wandered into the woods
My peaceful place among the green
Looming large the wall now stood in-between
I stood my ground and walked right upto it.
I placed my two hands against the wall
And pushed hard with all my might
A loose brick came undone
We peeped in through the square,me and the sun.
The shadow of the wall rendering the other side bare.
I blinked adjusting my eyes to the sunlight
Standing in the middle of the square
A wild flower was now in sight
Hope rekindled deep within
The beauty of creation standing upright
Turning my back to the wall
I opened my eyes and stood up tall.
03.10.2020
“Arms Full of Linnet Wings”
In the garden
that afternoon
she planted seeds
in their ripe minds
their eyes looking
up to hers their
irises dazzling
in the late afternoon
sunshine wide open
as if waiting hungrily
for more food
she dropped words into
their mouths which
they swollowed whole
jewels like memories
nebulous little darlings to grow
perhaps too young
but maybe one old enough
for the story to stitch
and in time graft
and re-sow
all her little goslings
in a row, eventually
swans, black or white
she could not tell
would never know
she held tight
to the moment
that Summer all a glimmer
and noon a purple glow
arms full of linnet's wings
she never ever wanted to let go
too soon
she would leave
the nest
long before them
she wondered
ceaselessly
about the three fates
and how they’d
grow
the seeds
she’d planted
in their minds
bloomed an entire
wild garden
undernourished
yet overgrown
(LadyLabyrinth)
for Lynette, with Love
“The linnet and the drush say
I love, I love” (PJ Harvey)
“To see a world in a grain of sand
and a Heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
and Eternity in an hour
A Robin Redbreast in a cage
puts all Heaven in a rage
A Dove house filled
with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thr’ all its regions”
(William Blake)
“I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.”
(William Butler Yeats)
Sunlight kissed the horizon; our young age,
leaving dots and dashes upon our crisp page.
Wild flower and Wonders, we both did grow;
watching seasons change from spring to snow.
Sunlight above and the noon overhead;
teenage verbiage and words left unsaid.
Wild flower and Wonders were left behind.
Sometimes snowflakes choose simple design.
Sunlight at five and silhouettes emerge;
and words and meanings work to converge.
Wild flower and Wonders, we slip into sleuth.
Autumn overshadows the losses of youth.
Sunlight gives way to the Wonders of moon.
Wild flower whispers leave me longing for you.
Carolyn is a fabric artist, she has a rare gift
I watched her work, her fingers are swift
She was making a wild flower the other day
Colorful and pretty, it blew me away!
The patterns were beautiful, her machine was a buzz’n.
I am glad to let you know that she is my first cousin.
She has a blog with followers from all over the world too.
Her gorgeous art will lift you right out of the blue.
The wildflower is finished now, she is working on a dog.
She has made a raven, two cats, a pelican and a hog.
Her ideas are plentiful, her gift is amazing for sure.
I watch her working in cottons, linens and fur.