Long Wildflower Poems
Long Wildflower Poems. Below are the most popular long Wildflower by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wildflower poems by poem length and keyword.
Sweet, spring wrap your arms around me,
Place me in an emerald forest, green;
Rain, gently fall and make my world clean-
I run through a wildflower meadow carefree,
Narrow trails beckon me to follow their labyrinthine;
Gamboling, frolicking baby ducks play on a pond aquamarine.
Ice cold storms are gone away,
Such delight- the song of a blue jay.
Cajoling, coaxing mother duck tries to keep order,
Oh, in this nirvana there is no clock . . .
Melodious forest tunes like a symphony by Bach-
Inside this forest nature blooms in manic disorder
Nearby, on a branch the call of a hawk . . .
Getting tired- I rest on a sunny rock.
Shasta daisies sway and dance-
Oh, I am a travelling pleasure-seeker,
Oh, flocks of flying birds call to me from a loudspeaker;
Nothing is more beautiful than a spring happenstance . . .
__________________________
March 18, 2017
Acrostic Rhyme/Spring Is Coming Soon
Copyright Protected, ID 885372
Spring Is Coming Soon- Acrostic
sponsor, Laura Loo
First Place
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.
To be loved
is to be a wildflower
blooming in springtime.
How wondrous to be much desired
by all the honeybees in the meadow.
There's no greater wealth on all of earth.
That feeling,
that inexplicable feeling
is like being all wrapped up
in warm satin sheets.
Oh, what a thrill it is
to be loved, unconditionally.
It's like being sung to all at once
by the robins of the universe;
words can't possibly describe it.
Is it crazy to imagine
it feels like a walk across
heaven's pearly gates?
Is it but the loveliest of dreams
one would rather die
than awake from?
Oh, I bet it is.
I know this much is true,
it's heavenly to be loved
by you.
Poem of The Day on 03/09/2021
Can you recall seeing me on a country walk,
winding my tendrils tenderly on a rusty fence;
tendrils and spikes are my leaves with blooms of purple,
I crawl and sprawl all summer long . . .
I think that I am more beautiful than any red rose,
growing in a garden- for I am wild and free;
a country wildflower that touches your heart,
with my creeping and crawling in the sun.
__________________________
March 24, 2019
Poetry/Verse/A Country Wildflower
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1127-181-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to Standard Contest 580
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
I went for a long hike in the forest today,
it was so quiet and peaceful along the trail;
I saw a cluster of tiger lilies gone wild,
and decided to write down this wildflower tale.
Along the trail grew tangled, tall, white Queen's lace,
and all over the place were sweet purple aster;
under trees, in the shade, were some true-blue buttons;
I stepped careful to avoid a "wild" disaster.
Not far, I see a vast field of red poppies,
mingled with tall purple cones and daisies yellow;
and I fall to my knees at the black- eyed susans,
my mother grew these- and I am lost in thoughts mellow.
Down by a stream the ground is blanketed orange,
and I lay down in the shade to drink in this sweet scene;
as dandelion wisps flimsy drift and float in the air,
gauzy they land on a bearbillies bush of red and green.
________________________
May 09, 2018
Poetry/Quatrain/Wildflowers
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1020-886-09
All Rights Reserved, 2018, Constance La Frane
Submitted to the Standard contest, A Brian Strand Structured
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 03/05/2022
First Place
Out in the open meadow
Swaying in the breeze
I am a wildflower
Living a life of ease
The seed from which I grew
Was blown here by the wind
It landed on the earth
And that was my beginning
I am watered by the rain
And fed by the earth
Each of them is dear to me
My life depends on both
I have two faithful friends
Who come to visit me
One is a pretty butterfly
The other is a honeybee
I feed them with my nectar
And then they fly away
I tell them to come back
On another day
I am bathed by the sunshine
Which makes my colours glow
It keeps me nice and warm
And also helps me grow
My beauty is free for all to see
Even a little child
I love the life I am living
I enjoy being free and wild
wildflower - a flower that grows wild and free
I have added three more verses: (verses 4,5,6)
I had removed them to meet the contest requirements.
*gold fusion
syllable-based; 5-3-5
Faint, sparkling crystals
Gold rings melt
for the sun to steal
Extolling the merits of specific metals. Yet, many buyers seek advice from a jewelry salesperson during buying decision process and leave with little relevant insight.
~~~~~~~~~
**sand grain
word-based; 3-5-3.
Delicious soft sand
Akin to the sugar sweetness
my feet clinging
~~
Verses of great poet William Blake:
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wildflower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
and eternity in an hour.
Written: October 16, 2021
Lune (Mixed Pair) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
I have lots of wishes and dreams,
I wish for things with a great thirst;
having wishes is to be cursed
Everyday a new wish it seems,
like, I wish to be a writer;
and make my words fly up brighter.
I yearn for woods in hues and gleams,
and pray I find my peace each day;
oh, sweet tranquility please stay.
I want to paint wildflower themes,
to master watercolor art;
to create from my soul and heart.
I need to photograph blue streams,
and flowers swaying and old trees;
and always, always feel the breeze.
I have lots of wishes and dreams,
Everyday a new wish it seems;
I yearn for woods in hues and gleams,
I want to paint wildflower themes;
I need to photograph blue streams.
______________________
January 10, 2020
Poetry/Constanza/A Wish is a Hope
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1215-568-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Constanza Rhyme(Form created by Connie Marcum Wong)
Written for the contest, What Are Your Wishes
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke
First Place
________________________________
Submitted to the contest, Constanza, Old or New,
sponsor, Joseph May
Third Place
House just turned one hundred years old.
Wooden floors preserve foot-fossils of ancestors.
A fresh coat of paint cannot muffle yesterday's fireplace carolers.
Our stockings hang beside the stockings of ghosts.
House has a heart- a pulse- layered in golden life tones.
I feel at ease in every honey-smoked room
and perfectly balanced on the uneven floors.
I don't mind the infinite cobwebs
that once were catchers of dreams.
Its three peaks and thirteen stairs
had significant meaning to past tenants.
It means nothing now for certain -but it doesn't matter.
I respect their strong marriage to the pastel past.
There're pockets and niches
whose purpose is long forgotten.
Just like I will soon be.
A discarded tin can in a wildflower field.
Winter evenings that I spend with house
are the warmest I've ever had.
I pray it feels the same about me...
Hanging a stocking filled with endless gifts
from a pale, blue-collared memory.
Exhume my gone exuberance,
I’ve always been drawn to a chance;
Such enticing grandeur;
Resurrect me from hollowed ground,
I long to indulge lush newfound;
Run with me, wildflower;
Missing all the juice of layers,
I’m dry devoid of purveyors;
Poundcake of foundation;
Through dynamism opened up,
faint flush from natural makeup;
A welcome distinction;
Revive me but do it slowly,
I’m stained glass you are the church key;
So sensitive to sensuous,
it’s been buried deep for so long;
Your hymnal could wake my soul’s song,
lead me to exodus;
Set free my dormant element,
overwhelm me and leave me spent;
Look at me, make the call;
To others we may seem baroque,
with all that passion will evoke;
Love is real after all.