Lilac is such a beautiful scent
A poem of fragrance that never gets spent
Same for you, my desire, it doesn't run out
It only keeps building, it will not see drought
Overrunning its banks, yet a self-contained flood
That wends its way, coursing, warm, heating my blood
A strong flowing current that brings me to you
And into your arms I fall, fall into mine too
flower
fragrant, colorful
watering, gathering , pressing
floweret, bouquet, nuisance, lawn,
growing, irritating, overrunning
smelly, unwanted
weed
8/24/2021
Diamante Poetry For Fun - Your Choice Of Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
Funny, feisty, fearless
Obliterating output
Rescuer of raccoons
Creative counselor to curious children
Adamant artistic aspirations
Relatives overrunning
Eye for exceptional expression
Nifty note-taking natural!
Lies lies lies
Easily and swiftly they flow out
And never will they stop
Until the stoppage of life
Like the blood from the jugular
They have no potency
Rather are they independent
But they spread magnanimously
Like the cancerous cells
Their soothing effects
To the heart of the hearer
Great and not unenjoyable
Like the feeling when you diddle
Lies lies lies
They don't reproduce
But they are reproduced
Like a series of overrunning echoes
They are not scary
Rather are they violent
Yet they kick the heart of the bearer
Like a player hits the ball
You don't love them
But when you hear some
You give a warm welcome
Like to a dishy maiden knocking at
your door
Non-energetic as they are
The carry powerful effects
Inciting disparate reactions
Like a refree's decision
You send them the invitation
Even when they should not come
Because they are easy to come by
Like lipstick paints on ladies' lips
My wife and I return from our honeymoon, and what do we see?
There is a new regime that is overrunning my country.
I have the terrible feeling another war will begin.
It will be started by those goose stepping morons from Berlin.
I have been given orders to report to Bremerhaven.
A commission in the Third Reich’s navy I must begin.
After we appear at the Salzburg Festival tonight,
Maria, the children, and I must take flight.
We cannot stay around to collect the top prize.
Our escorts will receive a most unwelcome surprise.
I have every intention of disobeying the issued order.
My wife, children, and I will be across the Swiss border.
Inspired by the 1965 film “The Sound of Music”
Then the third day, as we were packing up,
finishing our work, completing our tasks,
We scoured the horizon for you.
You finally appeared again.
Your cough a little less severe,
Your head a little less bowed, your smile regaining its brightness.
your little hand just waved and waved at us, until you disappeared from view,
as we pulled out of the station,
You dear, little, frail, blond W-V-a boy,
who stole a piece of heart, from every one of us.
Then I walked through my front door, and my own little grandson,
bounded up to me and hugged me tightly, with brace straighten dazzling white teeth, and several pairs of new shoes;
A closet full of clothes some with tags;
overrunning school supplies, and a regular Pediatrician,
And more love than he knows.
However, there is a piece of my aching heart,
and thoughts, and prayers, and wishes for strength,
That’ll forever reside, with the frail little blond headed boy,
from W-V-a, the Third World/ America