Cardinal, a bird of all seasons was seen flying
in a cloak of feathers in flaming red
and a small crest upon his head.
He looked an enchanting sight,
in the blue panorama of the sky
amid curling clouds and blurring mist.
As he soared, he was piping joyful melodies
Suddenly he swooped down, into my little garden,
where exotic flowers ooze out a rare fragrance,
where I stood unseen inebriated, under the tiara of blossoms.
The cardinal without second thoughts
alighted on a tall growing rose bush
where a red rose stood smiling, awashed in morning dew.
Between them, there was a hushed whisper
Is it the red color common in both
that conjoined them in love all at once?
With wind’s exciting whips and sunbeams’ sudden slips,
I saw him kissing hard upon her dewy lips.
In embarrassment, other flowers
turned their demure faces away!
Jan.8.2023
The Cardinal and the Rose Poetry Contest
Sponsor- craig cornish
The rolling humpback hills
dips down into the valley
Fading off into the horizon.
Giving the illusions of vast herds of buffalos.
Roaming and grazing peacefully
Across the sun lite plains,
Over fertile fields of wheat and wild grasses.
Stretching into native lakes,
Surrounded by tall-growing bulrush weeds,
And cattails gracefully arching into magical gateways,
with every little breeze, your imagination
travels on a journey with mother nature.
Riding the flowing rivers filled with speckled trout shimmering across the sun lite waters.
Up Over the moss, and onto the banks beyond the tee pees into wind swept prairies with herds of buffalos
and dancing with daffodils bending and swaying,
over the grassy hills and dales.
in your imagination
Forerunner winds, spring.
Plants already tall, growing.
Old friendships, showing.
2/3/2022
Rhymed Senryu
The rolling humpback hills.
Fade off into the horizon.
Giving the illusions of vast herds of buffalos.
Roaming and grazing peacefully across the sun lite plains,
Over fertile fields of wheat and wild grasses stretching into native lakes,
surrounded by tall-growing bulrushes, And cattails gracefully arching
Into magical gateways, with every gentle breeze, your imagination
goes on a journey with mother nature.
Holding hands with the flowing rivers
and with carpets of moss flirting with the edge of the banks
And dancing daffodils that bend and sway,
over the grassy hills and dales.
With orange, yellow, and apricot skirts swirling around
in the summer breeze.
“Distance lends enchantment...”
They say distance lends enchantment and true love
weathers all seasons; but, sometimes I wonder
whether the distance becomes obscured by changing
winds and billowing clouds.
And what is distance anyway? True, it’s the
long way home, the love on the end of a phone,
a plane ride to passion; but, sometimes, it’s the
pastures new, greener grass, tall growing poppies
that builds the dusty miles between us.
Sometimes, too, the saddest estrangement is more
the realisation that roads fork and curve apart
or that this road does not lead to a rainbow’s end.
But it’s not the end of the world: to have stood
close by as summer and winter heat and cool
affection and desire, is the very stuff of life.
If there are storms in your soul, if your emotions
undulate like a switchback (or the road through
the hills); then count your blessings, for you can
be a long time dead when you’re living.
TWO THINGS I MISS
Two things I miss - my children and my garden.
Just being there and seeing with delight
That my flowers have enough for all their needs.
Keeping from overpowering them the troublesome weeds
Making sure they grow along the path which is right
Watching their sunny little faces glowing
Protecting them against the cold and frost
And don’t in some deep grass get lost .
Seeing them straight and tall growing
Reaching the potential glory that is their own ,
Clearing away the obstacles to their progress.
Stooping their tiny heads to caress. . . . . .
(Direct from seed they were grown )
Yes, two things I miss - my garden of flowers,
And my children.
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