Shrubbery Poems | Examples

Upmarket Gardener

Fred entered his shrubbery
in a horticultural society gardening contest
and wising to wager on the outcome
as to which bush was the best
bet his hedge to win
and yet at the time quite mature
Fred’s Famous Fertilizer Co., Ltd.
went badly belly up in manure
sadly out of business
broke bust bankrupt for ever
as altho' he had bushels of bags
he couldn't get his 'sh*t' together

Howling Wilderness

High winds have come to a land remote and wild.
Oak leaves tremble in the black of night
While critters to the underbrush for the present are exiled.
Like a giant thrashing fiend, wind roars with all its might,
Increasing in intensity as if something got it very riled.
Not many birds will still remain where there is great height.
Gone into thick shrubbery, they’ll hide away tonight.

Wolves huddle together, for they are clever.
Into their dens they go or seek shelter in other spots they find,
Lest things worsen, however, 
Dogs of the wild won’t leave any of their pack behind.
Emitting long howls, they communicate.
Rolling thunder proves the whipping wind is more than scowling.
Not too soon will the wailing tempest’s tantrum abate.
Every wolf joins the wind in prolonged persistent howling.
Since the fierce fiend has now begun screeching like a banshee,
Scintillating stars tonight the wilderness won’t likely see.

Persusasive Waters

persuasive     “    “      “      “    “  “   “   waters in gravitational pull
  plummeting   “   “     “    “   “     “    “  in the midst; a misty rainbow
   of flamboyant  “   “     “      “      “   fall. clouds, mountains,
     shrubbery        “     “      “    “   - the ups and downs
           of the Catskill school’s Church, his Niagara.

   mohicans on the ledge…legend of a New York autumn
        red leaves, white foam, yellow and orange burns
my muse is on fire…flames leaping…honey of heavenly art

Treats And Sweets

Lined with a fence of modeling chocolate,
treats and sweets but never gingerbread;
My garden grows popcorn and cotton candy
eat all you like it just keeps germinating;

Treats and sweets but never gingerbread,
my cupboard is all out of fondant;
Eat all you like it just keeps germinating 
pappi’ caught in sugared shrubbery;

My cupboard is all out of fondant,
such a taste has never tempted me;
Pappi’ caught in sugared shrubbery,
perhaps they wait for a melted heart;

Such a taste has never tempted me,
so sweet it overpowers the bitter;
Perhaps they wait for a melted heart,
I’m not one for pure cane or phony;

So sweet it overpowers the bitter;
My garden grows popcorn and cotton candy
I’m not one for pure cane or phony,
lined with a fence of modeling chocolate.

Something Else

Under the hedgerow,
nothing will fall apart, nor hold,
until a first milky dribble
is squeezed into the
mewing mouths of the newborn.

Small forms roll in their dim pelts,
nightjars swoop from branch to tree trunk,
bat calls return to receiving ears.

A child's dream grows a face-masked cloud,
small eyes appear behind a mattress of foliage,
clairvoyant glimmers of the yet to come.

Every dawn is a stranger, a nakedly visual light.
Gaps in the shrubbery coalesce,
to reveal a small industrial unit,
cogs and wheels run deep,
as they turn something into something.

Further back,
the goose-necked end of a small pond
curls morning mist into unworldly shapes,
will-of-the-whisps,
that drift in and out of an opening sky.

A yearning awakens,
one warm breath starts a dew-cold engine,
soon the seen, will be accelerating,
emerging once more into something else.

Haiku

early sunlight
peaks through shrubbery
front yard veiled

Pomp and Circumstance

Happy Earth Day, PS...


How the majestic spectacle of Nature is revealed
At the end of a dull and gloomy day
When the bullying, storm-foreboding clouds give way
And allow the struggling, setting sun to gild, and flush,
And glorify this tiny expanse of rocks and shrubbery
With an awesome pomp and circumstance of color,
And cast a mesmerizing spell that holds the eye,
And caresses and stirs the spirit like martial music.

Blighted Moonlight

Marigold-embellished heart, blood-colored mulberry
Crooning in the shape of crowned blackbird plumage
ensconced inside a darkened, visualized shrubbery
On fully closed lips, a drop of blood-red fluid murage. 

Crooning in the shape of crowned blackbird plumage
Scarlet dew on lined leaves, lush but oppressive
On fully closed lips, a drop of blood-red fluid murage
Slave to who I am; the scent of the shackle is seductive.

Scarlet dew on lined leaves, lush but oppressive
guilty of fatal love, star-stained spirit, cool wrath
Slave to who I am, the scent of the shackle is seductive
Lilac petals of a lively Eden lay on my sad death.

Guilty of fatal love, star-stained spirit, cool wrath
As a keepsake of the spots, I decided to trust again
Lilac petals of a lively Eden lay on my sad death
Heavens, this flower melts in deathless pain.

As a keepsake of the spots, I decided to trust again
ensconced inside a darkened, visualized shrubbery
Heavens, this flower melts in deathless pain
Marigold-embellished heart, blood-colored mulberry.

Written: December 11, 2022

A Town Survives By Fishing Early Light

My horse's haunches sway,
Saunter up hillocks and down a valley path,
Above a ridge off and on: a village where some people fish,
Phosphorescent flotsam washed ashore. 

Green embers breathe as if through shriveled lungs.
Wax in contrast to the gloaming dark that's coming on.
Shrubbery shadows lengthen, enlarging blacknesses.
Crickets ratchet down their temperatures.

The earth cools in wan mirage.
Time lapsed, the stars make
A slow, quiet carousel of lights.
It circles far above us disengaged.

Wings of crows scoop pools of air,
Then dive down open maws
On tiny, furred crawlers shocked stock still.
Crows chalk their caws across the night.

A copse will grow into a stand of oaks.
The vintage children like to climb.
Gnarled limbs reminding them of fiction sailing ships.
Hand over fist to where the topmost rigging is.

For now, people and trees are bottled tiny on a shelf.
At dry dock like some whittled models are.
Until the oak is christened keel and frame
And of agers live lives and make their livelihoods at sea.  (9/18/22)

Man Architect of Decay

Quote: When the energy of love dulls the longing for decay, the earth is at peace. By Poet


Welkin' yarns require seer tears to slump  
I sought the draped orb for aid by a glance
Adam will gnaw rite apples, yet scorn stump
Bitter truth was rousing in a harsh trance
Cyclone wreaked havoc; made him prance and dance! 
I'm snared in a trap of rough arms that's deep
Through vague shrubbery my gazes, they sweep; 
Gray decay is dry stash of flawed niceness
Moth mouth sang a sonnet, as slant wolves weep
But trust fulfills the most swaddled calmness.

1st Place Contest Winner

Written: February 1st, 2022

D Forms - Dizain- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France

Trees Float Below the Clouds

Trees in my neighborhood walk around naked                                                        
On land, on ground, out loud below the clouds                                     
Rooted in history stepping out on the town
Out of their depths somehow in hurricanes             
Dreaming of becoming pirates lost at sea
              
Wooden limbs or legs that once limped along highways at home
Leap over waves, branching out opened to the ocean's roar
Sails unfurl on their mighty mast of power as hearty creaks
Circumnavigating not only the world but flowing sheets
 
Bushes can only shake in place as shrubbery
Everyone knows how boring shrubbery can be                                                                                         
Trees stop traffic when they fall on the streets
They can't walk on water
But given half a chance they can float 
At sea it is easy being a tree

A Time To Savour

What be of love if one was purged of thee
To claim a life of constant misery,
To wander lost a blind alley not free
Turned from once a flower to shrubbery?
When dusted away the shadows from time
Those that festered within a view so plain,
Yet not wanting to veer from daily grime
An act from Shakespeare as one did feign.
Like the first key of spring one did open
A cold heart locked in ridicule and shame,
To live in pretence of nothing broken
When thinking it were he the one to blame.
So never to curse the day that time took so long,
When written in verse becomes a beautiful song.

      © Harry J Horsman 2021

Laughing Blooms

My eyes wafted toward the edge of a thicket
Where briars and sage hastened to thrive
There amid brush and bramble, a delicate face
Peeped out from the dense shrubbery and pine

Lighting my heart and reassuring my senses
That life was about to start fresh this Spring
Laughed the hesitant blooms of a bunch of
Lemony yellow daffodils chuckling with joy

Brilliant creamy flowers on stems of emerald
Danced in the flickering sunlight that whispered
Through the wood and reminded me that life
Was about to start anew, fresh as these buds

Breathing through the whispers of delicious
Intimate caresses I chose a flower for my table
And grew more hungry for their flavors than
The food that tastes so delicious to the appetite

There will be brighter flowers, more vivid and lively
Swaying in the breeze, more lovely than moonlight dreams
But I don’t believe there will ever be a more beloved
Delicate smile from any Spring blush than the daffodil







The Most Beautiful Flowers You've Seen Blossoming This Spring So Far Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser 
May 8, 2021

A Cry From Far

Hopeless cries maybe but from far away
I'm lolling in the lap of luxury
So why do I care if they eat but whey.

Desperate parents sighing all the day
Living a life of toil and drudgery
Hopeless cries maybe but from far away.

Poverty-stricken, none more poor than they
While I fun and feast, they eat shrubbery, 
So why do I care if they eat but whey.

Kneeling down unto the Lord they did pray
Every breath unkind, a toilsome journey
Hopeless cries maybe but from far away.

It is the rule of our fate, none can sway
There is no escape, no recovery
So why do I care if they eat but whey.

While they subsist on handouts, sleep on hay
They but reap what they sow, in summery
Hopeless cries maybe but from far away
So why do I care if they eat but whey.



Contest: Say It Again
Sponsor: William Kekaula

A Quiet Spell

Blue mockingbird is not singing now,
Within the emerald green shrubbery,
Near blooms deep orange red and gold,
Under the sapphire of daytime skies!
The lazy clouds are puffy and white;
And there's such stillness and peace.
It appears to encompass all the world,
In its sunshine golden yellow splendor,
That highlights all the wild colors!
Blue mockingbird is mysteriously mute,
In the fragrant heat of aging summer,
Screaming its beauty loud and softly.
There is a butterfly upon the rose,
But no squirrels are madly scampering.
Come later to hear mockingbird sing,
With a beauty beyond all describing,
When honeybees start buzzing around,
And there is movement on the ground!

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