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Best Poems Written by Hilda Greenhough

Below are the all-time best Hilda Greenhough poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

The Dogwood Flower

I was a youngster when my sight began to realize,
When I viewed a tree of flowers that grew across the road.
Whereas this time of beauty was forming within my eyes,
Where the shapes and lines are made from the clay that memories mold.

A flower on the tree branch seemed to bloom before my sight.
Sacred bloom was a symbol of where Jesus had been nailed,
The central color brown in midst of petals of pure white.
Yet, my eyes saw baby Jesus; and my soul had been unveiled.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024



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The Unbroken

'Sell out your country' is what they said, 
As water kept dripping on his head.
Two days had passed since he went to bed.
'Sell out your country' is what they said.
Three days passed since he had been fed.
Denial of his Rights had not been read.
'Sell out your country' is what they said, 
As water kept dripping on his head.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2023

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

Yield

Yield? Not to you, I certainly won't. 
I'll parry on hot coals, I'll lunge to your affront.
Succumb? I'll not breathe your air of lies,
Since no honeyed sweetness makes me compromise.
Supplicate? Then throw down your armor at will.
Once freed from this battle, you will be my love still.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

Stifled Dreams

The life that's long brings to a man a change
Of those traditions then to modern thrill.
May journeys, that we're staid, now rearrange
To open thoughts and chance for a new skill.
Does work march on by rules of a new drill?

The World turns man like marbles in a jar,
And leaves him searching for a perfect star.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

Water Dragons

The roll of the waves hides the arcs of their backs.
The shoal of porpoises are feeding on squid.
Feasting amongst them on cephalopod snacks
Are green-scaled dragons that choose to be hid.

They hide from whalers and their brutal harpoons,
While they stay in the ocean for most of life's times,
Except times when they roam the nearby sand dunes
To covet Marsh Radishes and the wild limes.

These dragons don't fly, since they're aquatic sorts.
Like Nessie in Scotland, they wish to be free.
Some people catch a glimpse, and some hear a snort,
But rarely, since mostly they're way out to sea.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024



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CONFETTI

So like a puzzle, poorly jigsawed, with edges that never meet.
Shredded, sliced, and torn; and much too small to be folded or broken.
Wee bits of paper, wafting in the air, and falling to the street,
As the throng below shout the words which once a year are spoken.

In pastel tints are these minced papers, that float on gusts of air,
But now they pause in anticipation as midnight's hour comes near, 
Then sail to earth like windsurfers, to signal this night without care.
Now is a time for choice and direction, as they hail in the New Year.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2023

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

Come With Me

Come with me, I'll take you to the prom.
You're my heart throb as everyone knows.
Come with me, we'll play through the night, 
And I'll be sure to twinkle your toes.

The girls will look fancy to the max.
They'll all be wearing fabrics of green.
Come with me, oh Adonis himself.
You'll be the hottest guy on the scene.

I'll twinkle your toes, I'll sing to your songs, 
And laugh at the love prompts you say,
Come with me, oh darling, please come.
Youth waits at the dance to run free.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

Vanishing Buffalo

  They thundered across the fertile plains,
  Those hardened hooves, those tangled manes,
   But now the Buffalo can't be found.
   They thundered across the fertile plains.
   The long grass has vanished from the ground
   Where cities and highways now abound.
   They thundered across the fertile plains,
   Those hardened hooves, those tangled manes.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

Maybe

Making him your one and only
After his unfilled promises.
Yanking out those treasures of love
Brought out from closet cornices,
Even though he's your turtle dove.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

Chill Evening Mist

He almost said it, that one sweet word, but a moment lost it would not stay.
He reached for her hand, she lost in thought, pulled it back and looked away.
Was she the beauty he had married young, or an illusion from a fairy's joke?
Would the cold chill of the evening mist be waiting for him when he awoke?

Pain in his head and strain in his heart felt like a clock that was losing time.
Time had opened his eyes and he noticed that the long years had taken away her prime.
"Nothing in common" was too late to say for their paths took a divergent route.
Their anger was quiet and their words were sparse for they had nothing to talk about.

He almost said it, that one mean thing, "Perhaps we should go our separate ways".
He held his tongue, she gave a laugh, saying she'd be gone for at least five days.
He was glad she'd be gone and happier still that he would not have to take all her crap.
But the chill evening mist hanging over his head made him see he was caught in a trap.

Copyright © Hilda Greenhough | Year Posted 2024

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things