Japanese Zen Garden
I created this garden for you.
With silent winds and a still heart.
Where radiance unfolds its fragrance,
filled with a sweet nosegay,
I offer you Egyoko-bowls of blessing,
Jewels of wisdom.
As we listen to the koto zither,
Plucks its strings, echoing through
through Bonsai trees,
We feel Fuubutsushi takes hold:
The atmosphere is filled with objects
For your delight while reading haiku.
This invitation is my request to you:
whisper of the lotus, a moonlit pagoda,
Bamboo shades beside flowering sakura.
Cherry blossoms echoing the Jade River
Of ancestral tradition.
While we sit in a kanen moment
under the glowing moon,
The light reflects off a mediating
Samurai statue.
Surrounded by karesansui, the day
landscape that prompts Shizuka,
A quiet calmness.
A still circle resets upon the pond,
And koto tones sing behind the
Wind chimes in the yoake no shijima-
The profound quiet of daybreak-
at the end of the unfolding night
In absolute stillness.
Here, in Kokoro no Niwa-
the garden of the heart, my soul
amongst the forgotten notes,
We share Haru no Neiro:
The melody of spring.
REDUCTION
Permeable
Plethora
Potpourri
bouquet
Nosegay
perfume dry
Praise decay
Blooming lovely
bone dry fumes
Bone China burnt
white parfum
Colour of roses
Iceberg melts away
Reduction
in warm ocean
Heavens rainbow
reduced to tears...
Drops in the Ocean
Rise to nest in bosom clouds
Rain flows down river
Aqua Marine
23rd May 2026.
Job 36:27,28 (Rain cycle described in Bible)
Why did you have faith in me?
While in a bleak midwinter
These frozen oceans and sea
As though waves and stutter
Crawls and collapses your nosegay
Arms within arms thrives in you
Thought you would dance along the bay
But you saw pale and got lost its hue
Sulleness heart,the beating heart
Forgots the sound of summers fall
I see the tear from an Agamemnon art
And I remember now your call-
The sleepless night haunt these poor linnet
And the pardon eyes drip the rueful tear
And I travel far and afar till the shadows of bennet
Till I forget you ever by the flower it bear
the multifariousness of my junk drawer
holds secrets, stories, gadgets, humor, and much more
bungee cords, cameras, pliers, tape and string
a rubber chicken leg, buzzer bell with an ominous ring
hard cinnamon roll, which fell in yesterday
blue yoyo, ketchup packet, a tiny nosegay
such a variety of goodies I have to admit
if my mother saw it, she would have a fit.
Soft baby's breath in prim nosegay
abandoned in a parking bay.
A whispered message left behind;
perhaps a gesture was declined?
An assignation underway?
Meet me, my dear, floor three, bay A;
I'll leave you there a small bouquet;
you know which, your favorite kind,
soft baby's breath.
Lovers, perhaps, the kind that stray,
who have to meet this secret way?
Upon the spray, a note thus signed;
my love for you is unconfined
I'll prove, with buds, I leave each day
soft baby's breath.
Cape Jasmine
One last white blossom
Memories
Of our youth
You brought three green stems with buds
Fragrance filled the room
Long ago
When you desired love
Memories
Flood my mind
Now you bring me muscadines
From your garden, love
Daphne Odora
Dainty Daphne costumed in purest white
Through winter’s darkest days shares her blooms
Wears a satin gown to the ice moon’s delight
Small nosegay clusters share intoxicated perfume.
Daphne sings in winterfests of raucous snows
Evergreen, her smiles warm winterbound showers
January’s merry child surely knows
She lifts the heart through every frigid hour.
8-26-22
Contest: Eight Lines of Rhyme - Your Favorite Flower
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Music is always loved,
every piece that is heard, felt.
And yet I can play none,
not a chord, not a note.
Art is always stunning,
every piece that is studied, beheld.
And yet I can produce none,
not a drawing, not a painting.
A nosegay is always fragrant,
every one that is inhaled, scented.
And yet I draw in no aroma,
not a whiff, not a redolence.
Food is often tasty,
pieces that are chewed, digested.
And yet I feel like none,
not a repast, not even a snack.
The loved are always cherished,
every one that is clung to, kissed.
And yet I have none,
not a darling, not one even held.
Our own selves are always explained,
every fragment that is we.
Yes I have those, even grains, slivers, particles,
but, as you see, not a part of me evokes reason.
(Jul 2022)
Ranks of glossy printed editions
squeezed into a concertina of space.
The acrylic smell of new books
is cordite to my nose.
Then in softer contrast,
the musky ambiance of the old and well-thumbed,
a well used dust on dust-covers.
A tactile nosegay of leather-bound
classics.
Fact or fiction,
all are revelations revealed.
The appeal of the alphabetically ordered,
arrayed in an athenium
of only passing inquiry.
Movies have usurped many of these stories,
as well as Wikipedia factoids, reviews, e-books,
and word of mouth accounts.
I crouch and stretch
in a confined alcove for a few volumes
that have kept their obscure tales
under cryptic wraps.
I could take them home, maybe fill a single shelf;
speed-read my way through,
read the blurbs and the last chapters,
just in case I am ever asked.
Tomorrow is another lovely day,
For June brings bright flowers in profusion,
Lilies, pinks, and greens compose a nosegay
Or roses she'll get without confusion.
For June brings bright flowers in profusion,
Will she welcome my most fragrant bouquet?
Or roses she'll get without confusion.
May she accept my love and make my day?
Will she welcome my most fragrant bouquet?
Lilies, pinks, and greens compose a nosegay.
May she accept my love and make my day.
Tomorrow is another lovely day.
Pretty forget-me-nots in month of May
Visited by faeries ever so bright
Honored by fireflies into the night
Gorgeous corsage made from sweetest nosegay
Admired by the prettiest of fey
Healthy plants twinkling with all of their might
Her red knock out roses showing white light
Hollyhocks bring their flirtiest sashay
Rain and sun bring forth a marvelous crop
Vegetables are so healthy and so fair
A magical place where pink faeries stop
A feeling of pure loveliness in the air
Marigolds preen their lacy ruffled fray
A gorgeous garden on a summer’s day
Lilac bush came to life today
It’s nowhere near the month of May
Delicate buds a passion play
Perfect purple on this fair
Succulent fragrance from the fey
Wafting from this merry nosegay
April dance a pretty sashay
Coaxing summer along the way
once upon a time
a wedding day handkerchief
with lovely white lace
an old garter belt
borrowed and fastened on thigh
a groom with blue eyes
a nosegay bouquet
tucked in baby’s breath
fastened with ribbon
the bride’s train so long
ring bearer, flower girls ride
for a couple hours
then into the wind
with the groomsman by her side —
the unbridled bride
12/28/2018
Delight us in your special way
fill our lives and fill our days
Bring us a happy month of May
and a bunch of sweet nosegay
Am I allowed to court you with many a lovely look,
Like Paris throwing an apple for you, my reader?
Sweet Fancy`s Fairy, sitting by this dear stanza- brook,
Am I allowed some pretty nothings for you, my reader?
The butterfly of happiness will fly from our tender book
To find a reason and a certitude, for you, my reader;
I know you know all poets starve for any merry look
I hold the rainbow and an arrow, for you, my reader;
You don`t remember when so fool this verse I took
To lie the hope in love with love, for you, my reader.
This wonder drop of the first light I still wear before fall:
It was at very first beginning as word, for you, my reader.
This poem of our age in hope alluring beauty may call
The noble thrill of good tomorrow for you, my reader;
Thy forehead resting on my shoulder, a picture by Chagall:
This lie becomes true favorable look, for you, my reader.
Is your smile the only prize a poet took? Then let be all;
But many wonders are still possible for you, my reader.
And here, YOUR NAME I put, while writing my Ghazal:
A nosegay of dreams, a tender touch for you, my reader.
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