The male Hine’s Emerald patrols his cattail fen
low through sedge and seepage
his compound eyes pluck gnats from the air
two yellow bars flash along his thorax
hindwings catch the morning
Chimanimani Mountain mist beads over quartz
the female Rock Threadtail
six black feet braced on the edge
her wing tilted toward the sun
eyes—black
He misses the gnat
darts, veers, halts midair, pivots
his ommatidia fixed on her raised wing
smitten, his heading shifts
the female Rock Threadtail rests above her stream
=======
Aye, this pavement now pale and old
A flower once sprung of glistening gold
When melilot narrates me of time long before
These crevices on floor hides these unheed lore
But no vibrant sings over here merely a withered sedge
Once the hour I remember this our lovely
pledge
Beguiling is the pendant of love I carry so far
More ado of me to love you surpass the clouds and star
I listened on the voided diminuendo of song
And purple lethe came; told me I was never wrong
Told me this love is so beautifully painful
And a lovers be sometimes wonderfully disdainful
Aye, this Sycamore now languid and cold
A bough once sprung of glistening gold
I loved on Saturdays in March, at dawn
(back then, each day was Saturday) to root
in pond and hedgerow. Light was pale, dilute,
and buds clung tight and hard around the thorn.
This season, with the world so freshly born,
enchanted me. Each flicking, wedge-faced newt,
sedge on his face, unconscionably cute,
each ink-black eye from thousands in the spawn,
each clear cold pool, each acid-green young shoot,
each minnow which acknowledged my pursuit
and twitched my hand-held line (no hope of rod!),
each copse, so self-contained and absolute,
with nascent blossom dusted, bluebell-shod,
appeared to me a pledge of life from God.
.
thinks uv yourn
celtic appalachian sylph
tramp’n through thuh
pennsyltucky prairie's
verde sedge
yep
A lanterne is a five line quintain verse shaped like a Japanese lantern with a syllabic pattern of one, two, three, four, one.Each line able to stand on its own, and the poem may or may not have a title which sometimes forms an integral part as a 6th line
#1
Black,
yellow,
brown, or white--
partitions skin
deep.
#2 WATER MEADOWS
rush
and sedge
hide shady
ponds--teeming
with
life
#3
by
the stream
so shallow,
weeps a willow
tree.
#4 DAYSTAR
dawn
tinges
the bleak sky--
hope enlightens
all
#5
a
sea mist
rolls inshore---
daydreams deluge
me
#6 BIRDSONG
lost
in the
soft mist of
a September
dawn
#7 EQUINOX
Rain
droped leaves,
spotted gold--
scatter in the
wind
#8 MONA LISA
Her
gaze and
smile followed
his every
step
#9
bells
tolling
on the wind--
old memories
die
#10
a
dry rock--
out of the
white water of
life
#11 HIGH RISE
Thin
spires
in the breeze---
tasselled teasels
touch
Lanterne #12
Faint
May breeze----
in the trees
ripples shaded
green
here I stand waiting
balanced on the edge of time
past draped at my back
the future creases forward
a bloom yet to be folded
creases cross the sheet
the past bends, then re-creases
future folds to match
both entwine though never meet
a puzzle time enlightens
like petals rising
origami takes its form
each wedge takes its place
a flower blooms in the room
unfurling in happenstance
paper remembers
each valley, each mountain path
trails of where I've been
ghosts of futures not yet lived
hidden in the pleated sedge
tilted polygons
wedges stacked in helical
time loops on itself
a structure both flat and vast—
endless bloom of folded space
each crease is a breath
a moment held in silence
each fold, a new path
unfolding from edge of time—
flowers blooming come alive
Teensy tiny toad totally teeters on a goblet edge
In this prissy uppity restaurant! Screamed unappreciative Sedge.
The prices are outrageous! This toad is ruining my meal!
His blind date thought he was acting like a bit of a heel.
He wanted a refund, demanded the chef come their way.
His date, who had brought the toad, quickly ran out and away.
I guess I am the best gauge of character, the tiny toad said.
Yes, she agreed. I love it that you are always here for me, Ned.
Bound in supple molded leather, nondescript,
are manmade pages with rough jagged edge;
between their lines my unkempt thoughts are kept,
Whatever thoughts I fancy or things I fear,
however vain my conceit to try and make them art.
Long past when mold becomes my mantle set,
and my form feeds the growing sedge,
after even up the wind my bones has swept,
the words herein will still inhere;
and so, apart from pulse I will exist, in part.
But it’s true import none shall see:
that you once gifted this to me.
Accidentally I stumbled on the hidden pool,
I saw her there among the sedge, so lovely and cool,
"Come swim with me," she smiled in an angelic way.
Euphorically my heart beat fast with radiant sway.
How fast I swam towards that heavenly vision,
Only to see her vanish in a colourful prism.
Refuge
Whither the river flows and finds its way
Life surges and ebbs by hunter and prey,
There, beside wooded paths alert anglers fish
By slow waters where cool willows sway.
Painted boats glide on the bright wavelet’s crest,
Below shaded bridges, fish feed or rest
And gather in close clumps of reed or sedge,
A Grey Heron sits upon its open nest.
Passing tall grassed meadows where cattle graze,
Under oaks, horses retreat from heat filled haze
Nervous rabbits run to bank side burrows
And field mice escape the lone raptor’s gaze,
The silent hunter waits and finds his mark.
Inside a moored boat’s cabin, a dog’s bark
As fox and cubs sleep in their hidden lair,
While others find refuge in the watchful dark.
Barry Stebbings
July 2023
Beauteous scene of scented spring
Farthest from the world of men
In the sacred breath of woodland
Singth therest lark and wren
Shades of beeches, pines and birches
With the shades of Autumn mingle
As in hut a silent damsel
Cooks and embers shine in ingle
Cuckoos, beetles, fish and cricket
Look at wondrous lake and murmur
God hath sent for us a mirror
In the nature holy bower
Therest heaven's morn and sunset
Dewy gems on earth they shower
Tender wind it singth on timbral
Leaves in it afloat and dance
Hearst thou the flute of Shepherds
By the magic hands of chance
Nymphs and deities therest Rowan
In the eve in afternoon
Row therest in lake of woodland
Lady of the haunted moon
Beauteous art the hearts that ever
Worship in the nature yard
On the sedge on mossy velvet
In the temp of Holy Lord
Beauteous scene of scented spring
Farthest from the world of men
In the sacred breath of woodland
Singth therest lark and wren
Shades of beeches, pines and birches
With the shades of Autumn mingle
As in hut a silent damsel
Cooks and embers shine in ingle
Cuckoos, beetles, fish and cricket
Look at wondrous lake and murmur
God hath sent for us a mirror
In the nature holy bower
Therest heaven's morn and sunset
Dewy gems on earth they shower
Tender wind it singth on timbral
Leaves in it afloat and dance
Hearst thou the flute of Shepherds
By the magic hands of chance
Nymphs and deities therest Rowan
In the eve in afternoon
Row therest in lake of woodland
Lady of the haunted moon
Beauteous art the hearts that ever
Worship in the nature yard
On the sedge on mossy velvet
In the temp of Holy Lord
A HIGHWAY LIES BESIEGED BY A NATURAL LAKE.
About a mile from my abode, there's
a large lake called "B Lake". It gets its name
because it is shaped like the alphabet 'B'.
Without reinforcement, the highway will become
one with the lake.
A HIGHWAY IS BESIEGED BY A NATURAL LAKE.
The state highway parallels that lake for about a mile,
but a portion of the highway is far too close for comfort.
A HIGHWAY IS BESIEGED BY A NATURAL LAKE.
When there are heavy rains, the lake rises high and over
time, it has infringed upon the stability of the roadway
and laid sedge to the side of the highway. Presently
and fortunately, the highway is being reinforced with
steel beams and shielded from destruction. Motorists
are now secure and no longer threatened by B Lake.
052323PS
On the floating vegetation mat the nest is
Swans are quacking, moving to water sedge
Swamp of charming dawn with the raw ray
The flowers are waking up on the love bay
Rising sun are hugging the window glass
Through the sky-blue curtain fluting bass
On the bed of wintry frost canvas is ready
Pink roses are gleaming to paint your key
No dream there is to buy the heart of Eden
It’s me, the love for you come from heaven
Valentines unveil saintly to all amorous truth
To be true index for all come to be love root
Let’s collect the loving seeds of insightful light
Plant all in the field of beauty to be pure guide
©Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
16/01/2023
Valentine Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose |
I recollect the day we met, my dear
When the air was wintry warm and clear.
The garden was a paradise of perfume,
And many flowers were in bloom.
Daylilies and columbines flourished around the pond
And tall sedge grew here and there and beyond.
Littered everywhere were lovely lotus flowers,
Beneath goldfish and calico swam together for hours.
A small wooden bridge took us to a small bench,
So soothing I heard a waterfall drifting down a trench.
We talked and talked and knew love was there.
I promised I will always be true for I really did care.
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