Thistle Poems - Poems about Thistle

She brewed it slow, the thistle steeped— a greyish brown in porcelain grace. Each sip, a sting— a bitter bloom, but she smiled, claiming peace. At first, a wince, then less, then none— until the taste was home enough. No sugar added, no honey balm, just thorn and grass and quiet aches. “How did she bear?” they often ask. “It’s the way I like it,” she often says. But bitterness never just begins— it’s learned, one sip a...

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The heather weeps, a purple bruise, Across the glens, the chilling news. No bagpipes drone a mournful sound, But sirens wail on hallowed ground. A thistle bleeds, its prickling crown, As innocence is stricken down. Young eyes, once bright with Highland fire, Now gleam with something dark and dire. The steel they flash, a twisted boast, A stolen childhood, dearly lost. Each shadowed lane, a...

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A yellow notice on the gate with bold letterhead states Noxious Weed Commission and then, in smaller red print, declares:  Demand Notice to Remove Thistle. This notice is a sudden smack behind the noggin.  Bringing attention to a purple, spiky blossom  on top of an orb wound tightly around a ball of seeds,  swaying in the breeze and heeding this question: What did you do? To make the County use its bureaucratic might  and declare thistle plants a blight, a public nuisance  worthy of persecution.  And any resistance will cause  an appearance before a judge who'll levy  fines and imprisonment. What did you do? Shock begins to wane and reason filters into the brain; this thistle, that goats devour like its a treat, it explodes into a cotton suite that birds  use to build a soft nest and squirrels  a cozy den for all their kin. Is this order just about the plants by the gate, or does it include plants used by bees, or the plants that...

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thistle flowers sport mauve Elizabethan ruffs, elegant decor...

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[Picture prompt#2:] Wee Winnie Whistle, arms full of thistle, To welcome the town's Garden Officials. Come here to honor Wee Winnie, For helping so many, Bring gardens to life from artificial! Before Winnie Wee came initially, All gardens were artificial, you see? So with her green thumb, She changed every one, To living gardens that bring so much glee!...

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From the thistle and vine From the thicket of thorn Into the light of the morning Out from the briar patch, gone In a flicker of light Into the glimmer of dawn Slipping out at the daybreak With the rise of the sun In the ticking of time From the clock on the wall Ring the bells of a new day...

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seasons keep m o v i n g and s w i r l i n g memories keep f l o w i n g and s h i f t i n g through pillowy puffs of w h i r l i n g wind carrying singing s u n s e...

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A good friend once told me that kingfishers know the secrets of the universe But dear friend, what about this moorhen on the rivers verge? And as I sit and wonder what my moorhen thinks Around me dance bright thistles of pink A river ripple rides the collected current Long green reeds exist with no need to repent A family...

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Everything in my yard can grow Except a thistle Because of their mean thorns I put on gloves and eradicate them I have stepped on these thorns And I do not plan to again....

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I parked along the side of the road where the shoulder turned to gravel. I left my cardoor open, thinking I’d only be a moment. Into the golden weeds I trudged to find my favorite flower. Bull thistle bloomed violet, jewels aloft on green scepters, as rich as Sappho’s hair, as rare as royal Phoenecian robes dyed with conch, long stems twinkling with acid, as...

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Odd man out He cuts a lonely figure Only he isn’t. Avoided learning the language where he lives To avoid tittle-tattle. He is a failed poet too. Rancorous and silent But does smile and say thank you a thousand times As is the norm in this country. He wishes he could eat as much as he wanted to But is constricted by diabetes And a...

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Build me a mountain of uncertainty, A stone of distant fears Find me an army of losses And empty hopes, Some cluster of aimless hours to call my own. Teach me about heartache and closed doors. A broken way with nothingness in every direction. Create in me a heavy heart, full of misunderstandings and distrust to keep me hurt and forever confused....

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Thistle Be Nettlesome To Weed... Who (on a lark) doth spur my distant soul fully bellowed ahoy quickly hastening ye to catfish as a way to avoid this beastie boy wherein America playfulness of...

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Thistle's when i'm prickly down Upon your silky pappus. Ither on over Your showy Purple flower head. Onorpordum Acanthium Is where i quencheth On the pointed end Of a prickspur Not knowing the time....

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Strangling Thistle Puff grey smoke strings pollute the sky. Dull minds remain deaf to vigilant whistle, distracted by the flower of strangling thistle, while time silently passes on by. Youth in a basement getting high. “I'm just doing my job” says an official. Thirteen percent towards government missiles. Dehumanize, and silence opposing cries. Lift up your brother consumed by hate. Stand your ground in moral...

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