Short Willowy Poems

Tall and
willowy,
scantily clad-
Autumn's silhouette ,bare
and sad...

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Summer Grass

Willowy green blades;
SUMMER'S textured green carpet...
Waving lazily....

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The willowy blonde with flaxen hair
Showed icy eyes at the county fair
Being cruel and mean
And stuck up like a queen
Suiters were no longer standing there...

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Her dance within orbs of willowy spin offs
 Circle ballet striking glaze of a mirror flake
All absent a madness
 The victorious pallors of flame sword invading her once virgin shore...

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As soft summer's tide crests, so too our love
  Heartbeats wafting, on willowy waves race

Swirling ocean's fingers reaching for shore
  Arms gently encircle wondrous weaving waists...

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She stars on the stage
of my dream state production,
willowy and graceful,
a vision in motion.

I reach to touch
her familiarity,
in a place beyond the veil,
for there was a time in reality,
she was my living queen....

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Lover of the howling derecho 
on the vast welkin shore,
Carrying the aromatic mists 
of sweetest petrichor;
How it strikes! as the willowy blade
of an ambrosial steel sword,
Into the resting sheath
of the game's flooded board....

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The wicked witch wandered west
where weeping willows whisper wearily
in the winsome wind
wishing wistfully and waiting
while wondering why
wild wisteria wither
or whether the weather will wane
and  who would wave the  willowy  wand

 5-27-2012...

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She was a willowy creature,
lithe and svelte.

Her fangs were deep set
and hardly showed
but once in a blue moon.

Her beauty was un-stunning,
though acceptable
in the glare of the stage lights.

A model she was,
but of just what
it was hard to tell....

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Alluring wanton eyes
I see them
I feel them
On me
And through me
But why?
Why, when I should be at home?
The sweet smell of a botanical garden
Captivating
Intoxicating
This lovely flower
Statuesque and willowy
Bewildered...
She comes closer
But I ask.... Why?...

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Satin petals
Pure as angels gowns
Fresh from bloom
Open shyly
Reign majestically
Atop willowy stems
Seducing the eye
Inviting the touch

Fragrant notes
Subtle bouquet
Tease the mind
Permeate our soul
Delight our senses

Celebrate the rose...

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Sometime
In the willowy fingers of night
Reason shudders and escapes
Once immeshed in its' own intensity
Becomes
Bleached and pallid
Like moonbeams on the sea
Wave upon wave
Thought upon thought
After all the posturing
Bravado
Sinks brokenly into
Desperation
Until dawn beckons...

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Sapling apple stems,
once pushed into warm earth,
root with excitement...
their graceful naked branches
reach high into autumn's sky

Willowy offshoots
are pointing upwards
to drink in the sun...
a legacy of knowing  
what nature has intended




In honor Of Brian's Contest: "Up To Ten Lines"...

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willowy billowy daydreams 
whirlwind of playful fantasy
worshiping mystical moonbeams
waywardly sailing on a sea

warm starry midnight serenades 
welcoming beckoning mermaids
whispering invite warm extremes



AP: Honorable Mention 2021

Submitted on June 9, 2018 for contest PLEIADES sponsored by JOSEPH MAY  -  RANKED 3RD...

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Caught in your thicket of embellished verse
Trite but resolute
Efforts to crack the indestructible  

Here you say:
Willowy white Lily-of-the-Valley
Softly flowing waves of ecstasy
Delights a recessed heart
And resurrects the willful soul

I say:
No one knows the heart of one
Cast onward towards the billowy grey
Destined to revive 
My vain attempts at life...

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I have a favourite type of girl,
But it’s not like I am facile
Nothing wrong with preferences
I just like my girls to be gracile

Sinuous and willowy 
I don’t look for a pretty face
But they should have about them
Some elegance and grace

It takes the like of Nimble Kimble
Or the lovely Lithe Blythe
The aptly named Bendy Wendy
Or Lissom Blossom to feast my eyes...

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Vibrant colors everywhere
Plush pastels say you care
Natural tones always Fair
Brightly bitter blackberries show your flare
Shades of Gray challenge you to dare
Willowy Whispers of yellow warn to beware
Beveled baby blues- light spring wear
 Marshmallow Cloudpuffs Float On Air
Deepened Purple Thunder makes Stormy Weatherwear 
Blood orange sunflowers remain quite debonair...

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A love warm and willowy
My song is my soliloquy
Will we ever get past this bump in the road
Soft, we sail across the sea
Of puny pale apologies
Flawlessly coming to terms of what we know
And what we know is
Flame licking burning, hearts of fire
Spells desire, but baby what are we longing for?
You love me, then you hate me, try to save me
But leave me hanging on the edge of
Someday Ill be strong enough to go...

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Nowadays My Bored Heart Says...
..........................
One more midday-- in those willowy meadows,
Along the banks of Bandzo brook;
I'll roam as a vagabond , after years.

One more late night , i will speak to her on phone,
And hear the dogs barking in the street
And owl hooting in the trees.

Alas o God, great were the days...!
God bless Bandzo, Chatripore and Palpore!
God bless her, and God bless me!...

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In the shadows of the acorn tree, watching the squirrels race around gathering acorns. Their busy little hands rotating them, examining each acorn. Hoarding them, even brawling with other squirrels for access to the best trees. Daring acrobats that risk life and limb to collect them from the willowy ends of branches.

Trees full of acorns
daring acrobat squirrels
hoards little brown nuts

Haibun Contest
Sponsored by Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
July 28, 2017...

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Sheathed in unfamiliar undulating curves
Likened to white marble maidens
Once a graceful willowy frame, wistful memory serves
Augmented by fruitful years and plump babies laden

This heart and mind deceived by time
And all that I have collected
My evolution into this voluptuous frame sublime
Youthful archetype of attraction neglected

Yet this mantle that encases 
Does not define or symbolize
For my reflection in my children’s faces
Is the only mirror I realize....

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Joanne the willowy vixen
Willing and welcoming
Dancing on the pole  
Writhing and gyrating 
Erotically cavorting
Like a gracile courtesan
Suppliantly performing for the clientele
Of dirty old men and drunken letches
Debasing herself for meagre reward
In seedy surroundings
Selling herself to wealthy businessmen
With her nakedness she begs
For more paper currency
She calls herself an exotic dancer
But she’s no better than the geisha
Who satisfies a Mikado’s libido...

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whimsical windswept whiteness 
wedding weekend wanderlust
willowy wonderland waltz
wrongfully weathered woe
wintry wishful whispers
wrestling woodland wintertide

welcome waxen wallflower
weeping wheezy widow
whimpering wholeheartedly
wrangling worthless worries
wanton wretched wrongdoing
wedged within wickedness



Submitted on December 7, 2020 for contest ALLITERATION sponsored by EVE ROPER

AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Originally posted on October 23, 2018...

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