Short Bowers Poems

In fertile bowers,
from swollen vents perfume flows
mating passion grooms...

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My heart finds it odd—
Clods nor pods get close to God,
Flowers from bowers!
__________________________________
    Senryu | 01.03.18 |...

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Big 
Bluebells 
BEAUTIFUL 
Blossoms budding 
Bloom

Bright 
B E R Y L 
Bells booming  
Bare bowers burst  
Bling



03/12/19
...

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The whistle of the gentle breeze
Through bowers of graceful trees
Etch oak and birch and fir
Where lively creatures stir 
Birds and  will soon take flight
Enveloped in silent night
While quietude descends
And now my own sorrow ends....

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Pizzoulini--

Unraveling  dreams, she spreads her wings
Child of earth leaves her peaceful bowers
Hailed by the golden rays of sun
Kissed by the morning air
That scatters o'er her vestal robes
Rich tints of beauty rare.



....

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Lullaby 2

wind voices speak wild words
above an eider down of dreams
and nighted owl sleeps close to the trunk
when November rends our sky

rain changes from her silks
and whitened raiment wears
as winter casts its nets of frost
across the naked bowers...

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music in the trees
gossips teem in green bowers
marigolds abuzz

cracker butterflies
among burgundy roses
twittering away

hollyhocks abuzz
with news of the honeybee
such blues pinks and blacks

crickets go screaming
near the endless babbling brook
in the orange dusk...

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Swoon now, enraptured Melancholy,
Betroth these heavy hours-
Wield thy sceptred dulcetude
O'er my soul's mist-sighing bowers!
For there yet weep unwearied ghosts,
And hungring hopes of weighted dream, 
Of the unsolaced heart long shorn of dawn
That no yearning can e'er redeem......

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Everyone wonders what is life all about
Well, it's a test will you pass it or not?
Every small action is tallied up in a Book of Hours
Will the total get you to hell's door or one of heaven's bowers
If one wonders what their final sum count might be
Looking  back on their lives and it will be plain to see...

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Towers of Bees

Over the city forest trees
Are hives of bees buzzing
In cubicle stacked towers with plastic flowers,
They labor for no honey, but money.

At an approximate five they fly
For they must eat and fill cool sheets,
To dream of bowers of sweet scented flowers,
When a cubicle is their own – their home...

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I persist in singing my unknown beguiling ballads
As the verdurous pasture slowly glides
Over the vernal bowers of wilderness! 
 
Yearnings, sorrows and joyfulness
Prompt me to offer floral tributes
To this celebrated earth wherein 
For a while I roam to glimpse its grandeur—
Its legacy and alliance with mankind!...

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Frisky kitty is in fresh, velvety flowers,
Dancing all the honeyed bloom hours.
As song drifts from the secret bowers,
Lacy clouds waft and the sun smolders.

Kitty courses in color and sweet odors,
The spell of youth has strange powers,
In greener days that happiness towers,
Until sun grows mellower and mellower....

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Fairies that frolic among the flowers,
Spread happiness here among the bowers
Leaping through the petals,
Avoiding the nettles
I hear they live in grand golden towers. 

SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written November 23, 2022
Submitted to "Children's Limericks" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper...

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Goodness doesn't always inspire,
Or worth too much in the world's desire
Despite its benevolent attire.

Its value is stored as treasure, 
Stacked up like gold per heaven's measure.

Goodness is for you to spend
On earth, like a gardener tends
Overflowing vines and flowers,
Depositing seed for God's eternal bowers....

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And now I return to write another entry
in this long poem. Behold the biting bees
pollinating many trees and flowers
at all hours in their bowers,
for humankind's consumption.
Let us eat many sweets
with our loves so sweet.
My love is a grape,
so sweet and dark,
for she brings darkness upon my soul,
for she has left,yet she is as royal as Byzantine purple....

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In the chill of the morning
As a new day is dawning,
Rabbits emerge from burrows yawning
Fish in limpid pools spawning
Busy bumblebees from hives start swarming
Pretty flowers on bowers adorning
Noise from rustling trees informing
Creatures of the forest a warning
While birds in the air are reforming
Kittens and puppies are performing
As another day is aborning...

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"Not does the air stir quiet whimpers in the dark  nor field, groves and the sweetest bowers can hold." Quote  by poet

Quiet is the
cold night, deep soulful
voice, profound
sense of grief.
Not a breath of zephyr stirs,
just whimpers of pain.


3/30/2023

Writing Challenge - 'Q' Words - Poetry Contest 1. Quiet
Sponsored by: Constance La France...

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I was witness to poetry in motion
amidst all the world’s chaos and humdrum

As the sun lazily rose from its eastern bowers
this bare backed man presented quite a picture

He gracefully lowered his oar with a soft swish
moving slowly looking for fish

Rowed his makeshift boat on scooter tyres
the lone kayaker on lake waters.



for Backwards poem contest by Matt Caliri...

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I see pretty flowers
in gardens and bowers

Vivid gold daffodils
line the banks of deep rills

Fledgling chicks spread their wings
listen as songbirds sings

Little lambs play in fields
I love all that spring yields

Theme 2 nature inspired

Alexandrine - Modified Poetry Contest

Sponsored by Dear Heart

Checked with how many syllables

03/23/20...

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Monarchs are hatching and seeking flowers,
Their gossamer orange wings fluttering wildly
Then perching atop the pollinating towers.
Monarchs are hatching and seeking flowers
When it rains they look for sheltered bowers
Beauty in perpetual motion, to put it mildly,
Monarchs are hatching and seeking flowers
Their gossamer orange wings fluttering wildly.

Written October 14, 2021...

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Memories are being snipped like flowers.
Putting together shades that scent like oil.
Melt almost like yolks pleading on towers.
The work depicts the many threads of hours.
The solder between brushstrokes and bowers 
Fear behind the helmet till its touch spoil
Memories are being snipped like flowers.
Putting together shades that scent like oil.


Written: February 18, 2023...

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The moonlit night
Bathes the earth with light
The twinkling stars
Sprinkle heavenly flowers.

The still, silvery water
Of the silent mere
With a garden of flowers
And myrtle bowers.

The breeze whistles,
The firefly glitters
Enticing the youth,
To revel in Nature’s Truth.

Aimless, theme-less whisper,
Engrossed in youth’s rapture,
With insatiable hug and kiss
O! O!! O!!! The Heavenly bliss!...

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She is learning young
Pure genteel pleasures of a garden
Amid the fragrant roses and towering lupines
Sweet feminine echo of her beautiful mother
She holds up her watering can
A tiny version of the other.

Now she mimics to perfection
The sprinkling of flowers 
As she giggles with delight
At birds in secret bowers.

She can't wait for tomorrow
Her duties to employ
She is mother's little helper
And Daddy's little joy...

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Serenity is nature-induced bliss,
bliss of gentle color-kiss.

Kiss that sets the soul alight,
alight in its ecstatic flight.

Flight like birds upon the wing,
wing away in song of spring.

Spring will smile like waxing moon,
moon of planting in full-bloom.

Blooms of cereus in full flowers,
flowers scent wafting through bowers.


5-20-2021
What Brings You Peace Poetry Contest
Chantelle Anne Cooke...

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Amid the concrete towers of modern life
some ancient preference in us calls
for sunshine dappled bowers.
There is respite in leafiness,
in tangled vines, obstreperous creepers,
in row, upon nonchalant row,
of fragrant roses.

A butterfly invites our eye
to ramble from monotonies of
daily drudge. 
We hearken back to some
lost paradise -  a game, intent
on restoration of  our addled brains 
We find again,
delight in wandering


Thursday, June 27, 2013...

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