Short Honeysuckles Poems

Sweet aroma of 
Honeysuckles in full bloom,
I turn to a bee...

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The honeysuckles
Fill the misty morning air
To the birds delight...

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Yellow, white blossoms
Along the barbed wire and posts-
Air drips with nectar...

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Sweet honeysuckles
white and yellow on the vine
say hello in June

Robert Pettit for Sidney LeeAnn’s haiku contest.
5-7-5 syllable form describing a common flower that blooms in late spring
...

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Indulge the sweet juicy nectar
  string part sector
    dulcet wee drip
  caress your lip

   A distinct fragrance very rare
   hard to compare
   scopa choring
   pollen storing 

Fetching Chuckles, honeysuckles!...

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Indulge the sweet juicy nectar
  string part sector
    dulcet wee drip
  caress your lip

   A distinct fragrance very rare
   hard to compare
   scopa choring
   pollen storing 

  Multicolored succulent vine
  A teasing dine
   fetching chuckles
   honeysuckles

word count 38...

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today we are sitting on a creek bank
feeling the cool breeze run through our hair
a pabst blue ribben between your legs
the smell of honeysuckles in the air
I had a crazy dream last night
about you again
I was floating on the surface
our life was right there
if I could have been a different man
maybe this dream could be
reality...

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( SUMMER )

Summer is warm and full of life
The birds are singing
The butterflies are dancing
The flowers are talking
The wind is gently blowing
The skies are blue
People are playing
The smell of honeysuckles
is in the air
Boats are floating
Fish are jumping
Kids are splashing
Bees are buzzing for nectarines
The days are longer
The nights are shorter
Summer it is full of life!

(c) Jasmine Paul 11-18-2014...

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Azure streams silted with cotton bows
Green, svelte carpet spreads below
Silken florets on tawny branches glow
Yellow daffodils cloak the meadow row
Purple violets' royal fabric vaunted hills hallow
On servile plain, feathery dandelions spread umbrella
Along hedge rows, creamy honeysuckles with sweet dew flow
In dense, brown brush; fledgling chicks from saffron gapes bellow
On the forest floor; jittery, gray squirrels deplete nutty escrow...

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Brussel

I dream of a river clear
As a nun’s tears
In a landscape of flowers.
Bees, don´t sting
Nestles is banned.
Honeysuckles 
Is a dulcet word.
I think of a woman
who came to my village?
Years ago.
Her smile lingers
Her laughter
Alentejo wine
Not the supermarket type
With plastic top
And fake labelling.
The river of love
Runs to Brussel.
This is odd, Brussel  
Is a rain heavy place
And little else.
Except
For wonderful chocolate
And tasty beer....

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From the sagging back porch, I could see the honeysuckles.
They twisted the fence, pulled it away from its wooden posts
And I would sit beneath it for hours. Drinking the nectar from
the flowers.

It never seemed to rain when I was young. 

Sometimes, when I fall into my car, I
roll the window down and the breeze is 
the same one
that took me away from home. 
It smells like asphalt and exhaust, 
but I swear I can still smell the sweet 
wildflowers beneath it all. 
...

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It’s  July … fragrant  honeysuckles  remind me
Of  summers young when innocent passion bloomed;
Unearthing glances,  confidences  --- a  throb my heart first held
Until  desire turned into precious  love,   we ignited
The ambrosia of moist lips, the blush  of intimacy:

Many a time, I wonder about him… fondling our space
While in  eves quite , his kind laughter drifts    now and then. 



Written for Silent One's Seven lines of romantic heaven 
6/23/2018...

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In his arms I am free to explore the oceans ~ 
openly caste my gaze 'pon stars twinkling 
 in the midnight skies; 
his hand gently caressed my face, 
as willow wept her tears 'pon the winds ~ 
From wind a genteel sigh of reprieve is released
as tender droplets of precious rain, 
and honeysuckles wantonly bloom 
'pon receiving them -- And Aye,
I am free to explore the oceans and more,
in his arms I have found both ecstasy and tranquility
For he is the hearth of my home......

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