Short Leafed Poems

Come, please mate with me
spin our web on the leafed tree
my supper to be...

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Late autumn, slow fall.
Many a tree still leafed – a reprieve,
not a pardon.

2004 Fall...

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Red leafed Autumn
Cardinal half-hid.
Light painted by light.
Hedgerow snow....

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Red leafed Autumn
Cardinal half-hid.
Light painted by light.
Hedgerow snow....

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Blazing as sunset,
they grope as houses on dense-leafed cliffs
reflecting their image
in the motionless lake...
shouldn't they welcome Winter?...

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on one gold-leafed limb
where shadows now sooner    fall. . .
a forsaken nest


Posted 8/12/2010
For 'Favorite Nature Haiku' Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France...

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Leafed to be reft
Ashen greys in bleak surround
Cover of night dies
It's stillness, in cry, out loud 
My life, will be skeletal









http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-14.php...

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Repulsed this heat's passion
Fanned a face, from off.
In diving, less demure
When half one's clothes doff!

Snubbed, scorned this archetype
Of burning kisses
From under leafed bough. Whilst
His, never misses!...

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This day of Autumn shivered
And then did sneeze.
A thousand gold-leafed foiling
Of birch, beech spilt.

Soon, and colder, will it be
Known for its wheeze.
What from off each bough, dance-frozed
Spooks finch's lilt....

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by Kano Eitoku (1543-90) color on gold-leafed paper

See, roots and branches tangled, massive as a warrior’s thigh.
This great tree flings its arms, imploring the heavens to be free.
Across miles of cloud, a mountain peak rises, flies away....

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cherished clover green
coronet topped purple plume
search out the four-leafed sprite

eye to lawn outspread
taste of bee sweet blossom red
leprechauns key find

pressed between pages
still lucks’ keepsake enclosed
more sought than the rose...

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All of its nonsense does end here.
World's. Its furthest blown point.
Murky but deathly stilled water's
Of tranquil acceptance.
Even so, which glory, gold leafed
By what hangs and spooks round
Spreads, for ghosts of disillusionment
Cursed sounds. In abundance!...

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One white flower in a wan worn field,
The frailest of butterflies failing,
The brown-leafed grief of an old year's yield,
The last ray of sun unavailing;

I lay me down in the wan worn field,
I close up the wings of my eyes,
To the sorrow of loneliness I give in, yield,
Till you shine down again, or love dies....

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I see a masked shape
in the trees

when the wind blows
the mask laughs
it's leafed face half hidden

it does not mock
as it is trapped, half exposed

the other half is mingled, attached
to it's roots of birth

when the east sun shines
the mask disappears

with a shadow
it jitters and trembles

succumbing to it's
birthright....

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Spying the open book in the library
Gold leafed cover looking rich and so pristine
Opening the pages my senses went awry
Wished so much that this precious book was all mine

Was like a poets paradise, ink pages of old
Where languages of love within are told
Poetry for poets, poetic words are penned
Licence of happiness where love never ends...

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A tree mast broken
Changes pond to pillow fast ...
The frog is asleep

The lilly pad swims
And toad applauds toad in songs
The moon will rise soon 
 
Water turns to dream
Light kisses the heart  of leaf -
Tadpole becomes groom

Lilly blooms sunlight
Frog calls mate and hug to leaf -
Day weds dawn and moon

A lilly leafed hope
The frog sang and perched in pond -
Silver falls the rain

by
David Smalling...

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A family of chickadees
Hopping through the 
Many perches of the
Rhododendron out side this open window
As a humming bird sips daintily
From the tiniest of blue flower spikes
Up sticking from the window box
The sun is within an hour of setting
Lighting veins of red pink green leafed wonder
What marvels my better half has wrought
With busy living fervor
While I sit by and pick and peck
At words and hope to still deserve her...

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Stillness of morning
Damp and multigreen
from predawn rain
Feathered choir resting from
greeting song of dawn
Artful preening touchups of
scattered random song
as flowers slowly rise and dry
in stately disarray
A soft breeze teases small
new leafed branches
Fresh painted life drips clearly
in new light
So many myriad hues of green
so nakedly truly shown
without blinding bleaching sun
A pre day showing 
rewards an early riser...

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Under the southern skies
You were reluctant to touch
For fear of anchored storm
In still stalked frozen seas
And you were afraid to enfold
A pungent beauty in your arms.

Counting the out breaths into
Leafed wind in dunes of sand
A few skeletons under the trees
Extending marrows in finite land.

Under the southern skies
Staggered promise for clenched pain
Expecting a smile at the very ledge
For a felicity dappled in crimson dawn....

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She sits and ponders
In the summer shade
Wondering on
Decisions she's made

To turn away
Her man, her life
No longer her wish
To be his wife

Under the greened leafed tree
In her silky dress
Thinking back on her past
Her life a mess

Let down so much
By the man she loved
No longer the couple
Like a hand in a glove

Decision made
She's on her way
This girl stays single
No marriage today


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life.php...

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On the upland at the slope,
 magnificent water tumbles.
 On the talus climber stumbles,
 on small, dewy leaves of grass.
 
To his eyes disclosed is spa,
 marvelous mountains, falls and streams,
 fabled landscape -
 rare appearing frail flora.
 
Leafed trees and conifers,
 crooked wood and little flowers.
 Raining often – scary blizzards.
 
Slanted sidewalks among ranges.
 There the weather quickly changes –
 swiftly hunting are the buzzards....

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The tang of the vital body
scents an inner sky
the fleshy funk
as it surfaces to be perceived.

Aromas; the perfumed stench
of the incarnate
so like a flowering orchid
its thick leafed presence 
overwhelming, its delicate enticements
an allure chained to an image
that blooms into sex.

The pervading smell of memory
the attar of the rose,
the delicate fragrance of enticement
all a waft toward corruption
where death plants its roots
deep into the blossom....

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I felt the conflict of that summer breeze
yearning, my cute friend hummed her graceful song
reclining under verdant willow trees.

College would soon begin, what could go wrong
as I leafed through my literature book
to get the feel where emotions belong.

I sang a love song to conquer her look,
yet sensing in me some quivering throes
Left her to cool her feet in the small brook.

Then her boyfriend came and hugged her so close,
I felt forsaken with too many woes....

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October is crowned with glory.
She is touched with Heaven’s glow.
The seasons declare her rise to glory
Her majestic laurel-leafed crown in
magnificent display, with jeweled leaves adorned.

O northern wind, command her before thee to bow, and
cast forth her golden crown. 
Lay her upon forest floors of crushed velvet brown.   
Her reign deposed she now lies in November’s leafless repose





for Brian Strand's contest 
1st place win 

Note: some how my poem and comments were 
completely erased...

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