Short Poplars Poems

Of
vivid
red tincture-
the black poplars
bloom

*male catkins...

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Poplars in the rain
Pomegranate sunshine sleeps
to the scent of earth....

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Glittering poplars
dance in the breeze's cool gusts
singing like sea waves....

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autumn
wind mutters
something which sets the
black poplars ashake with mirth

the leaves
fly over
the window - utter
a word as they pass - listen...

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Haystacks and poplars
Rivers and views
Gardens and lilies
with abstract hues-
these impressions ..I choose

Claude Monet 1840-1926 (Water Lilies series 1923-1925)...

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impressions of summer-      
                                   whispering in the breeze

Monet's Poplars in the Sun -

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Monet_Poplars_in_the_Sun.jpg...

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Poplars
 
against the rising moon;
filled full of roosting cormorants-
sleeping;
as 
long shadows,
rippling between
reflections of scudding clouds-
where evanescent images
settle....

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behind the town
by a pond
upwards reach
poplars,birch and beech:
over the roof
out of sight
lies temptation..
apples overhang
an orchard wall,
ripening in the 
sun awaiting
Autumn's fall...

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Piney woods, perfume the forests; sweet scents waft upon the air.

Great oaks share their strength; Popular poplars whisper lost secrets.

In the great kingdom of trees, generosity is paramount.

...

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standing
o so tall
reaching,
stretch the
branches
up and out.
their leaves
rustling
in the breeze
glitter
catching sunrays,
releasing them
playfully
till sundown.         



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Posted on December 3, 2019...

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This house is
so quiet
(as every single house).
In the morning - with a color.
And the night - with semitones.
I'll love you - it says - in this
town.
With the benches of those in love,
with the poplars in May.,
with the rains.
I'll love you - it says.
And life goes on....

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By the shadows of summer
I declare war on spring
Winter gave me passage
While my true heart appears missing
the sounds of the evening town
Over the poplars
The things that go missing one-by-one
make patches of muted sound, while
The things that add up day after day
Float like a watery memory
Oh what of tomorrow's sorcery...

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Birds chirp by jarfuls
in twilight dawn.

The sun could stand correction
in the hesitation of fulfillment.

The planets & stars roll off
the table of sky, plop
in the puddle of lakes serene
as maniacs in straight jackets.

The wind mumbles
it isn’t so.  The unbend poplars
don’t care,
and children
aren’t children anymore....

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Hills pull their blankets out
and leave bare their naked spines
permitting Junes and me
to Summer there

Streams must appear to Him
as traveling caravans
The painted leaves like prisms do
with hues of rumpled Persian rugs

All seems Persia has pulled it's banners out
and march off to the sea
Turbaned poplars and lakes like tents
Is it jocosity?...

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Thou dancest amongst the   
posies and poplars alike.  
O how thou dost admire, so   
sung the feathered choir.  
Whispering breeze not of a  
foolish tongue;  
Though words wiser unto  
inspire of.  
Poesy of an internal beautician  
and thy spirit which   
soothes thereof love;  
Caressing thy heart  
beating e'ermore young.  
O beloved "Faye"....

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interfaces
  of phenomena
         rapid&impetuous

outlandish
melodies
  of unchanging
              light
concentrated
repetitive
transformations
   everchanging

space
   between
      motifs
of
  lilies
    poplars
       rivers&ponds

monumental
   impressions
     in the eye

ephemeral
acts of perception
convey
    what is alive
             vibrant

 valued &visual...

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utterly bewildered 
I stood by the nightfall
of stilly midsummer
withering away
with my
westward companion

the glimmering light
of former fears
and penitent pocketbook
faded in a distance
and the imperious presage
of perfunctory morrow
drifted with driftwood
into the vast greenish seas

then the evening was renewed
with foliage flavor
willows and poplars
entwined and enthralled
and according to accordion
divine divers live in flatlands...

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What sad eyes!

What gray eyes!

Perhaps, he has told you , 

What you - not the first with him? 

Your raincoat is wet from rain ,

And your curly hair is wet.

How he could offend you -

You are so proud! 

But the leaves of lindens and poplars,

Are flying as thoughts, 

And a rain - 

A gray sparrow

Kisses the pools.

The happiness has gone away,

And will not return any more.

No! You must believe:

and in your life

will be sun again!...

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