Short Ragweed Poems

silver damp moist fog
coats golden rods, green ragweed ...
oleander blooms...

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quiet poet sits
on the porch, eyes water, sneeze..
fall's ragweed now blooms  ...

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smoke
on the horizon
forest fire

harvest dust
field in motion
combines

ragweed
in full bloom
allergy...

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cool damp autumn air
contains much ragweed pollen...
surround sound effects  


Ack-chew...

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Sneeze repeatedly
Sound echoes through the hollow..
Ragweed now blossoms  

Is it a Haiku or Senryu?...

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There once was a young man from Calgary
Who suffered great from ragweed allergy
Eyes would itch
Nose would twitch
Sneezes could be heard clear to Germany...

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drowsy cricket songs
call orange-black wings to rest
on yellow ragweed

hunting with broomsticks
bent coat hangers and cheesecloth
we chase summer dreams...

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.
                                        Ragweed cast forth blooms
                                        Pollen floats upon dry air...
                                             Watery eyes, nose


*Note 
Click on "About This Poem"
In honor of Brian Strand's 
"Fall Your Choice"...

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The month of August in the deep south 
Signals the first of many ragweed blooms
The lush greens toast to brown
The creeks finally run clear
And about one inch deep
Days are spent hiding from the sun
Energy seems to be burned away
Loki’s torch up to its old tricks
Excitement wants to build 
A rain could change the seasons
But the dust-choked back roads 
Have no relief yet...

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to the tune of Jefferson Airplane’s White Rabbit

One pill for attention,
One for cholesterol,
And the one that makes you smarter:
Most expensive of them all.

Go Cialis
When you can’t get tall.
And if you are plagued by ragweed,
And allergies in the fall,

But your resources are limited,
And your outlook is rather small,
Don’t do anything until you call her,
Till she has you in her thrall.

Feed your head
Feed your head...

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Again I scare myself
of the very thing.
Moon was landing on lake
for inward probe.

One presaged silence,
speaks, of the veracity of lovers
to grass, where no drop drives a sun,
the red bricks build a shade.

Ragweed in a daisy field :
Ambrosia, I will not taste you
till the rainbow sits
in the meadow.

Round eyes
keep the dawn hidden /
under the lashes, sleep my saint
for a while, door was waiting for a knock. 


SATISH VERMA...

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WHEN awakened by a sudden thing as Life
what to do?

i took my mouth in hand and walked down
the mountain to a river.  My curious tale
behind me it was the bleat of a sound within
my throat that ragweed spoke.

  Never a mystery as the ones i've met
have potted the balconied trees upon the
rows of my thoughts.

There!  A sparrow that has fallen from 
my dreams into the progress of strawberry-
wax lullabies i had once forgotten.

:: 12.21.2021 ::...

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Cotton floating from the trees,
caused by a gentle springtime breeze,
air, pollen laced makes me sneeze,
Achoo.

A Bee at work while it's still sunny,
gathering nectar for its honey,
Ragweed makes my head feel funny,
Achoo.

Could I but move to a climate dry,
with no more weeds to make me cry,
to face each day with but a sigh,
Achoo.

A place in which my eyes won't swell,
Arizona is good so I've been tell,
this Johnson grass sure rings my bell,
Achoo....

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