Posts Tagged ‘daffodil’

Pond Daffodil Thoughts: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku

May 4, 2011

Lake Winneconne Wisconsin Daffodil PondDaffodils surround/
a pond, reminding me of/
of someone I’m fond.

Because You’re Trapped: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Rhyming Haiku

April 27, 2011

Daffodils and Tulips brighten a dark deskYou trapped at a desk,/
I must confess, is reason/
to send the season.

To a Rose At Last Blossoming: Revolutionary Blogging Improv Sonnet

August 28, 2010

A friend wrote a poem in a new blog, and then wondered about her poetic ability. This sonnet is in response (and is also on the comment page to her poem).

To a Rose At Last Blossoming

Roses don’t blossom
quickly, like the daffodil, tulip,
or dandilion,
only to fade just as quickly away.

Instead, they rise from a bushes,
born years before.
The older the rosebush,
the sweeter and longer lasting the blossom.

People glance at rosebushes in winter,
comment on their plainness;
their brown sticks protruding through dead mulch;
their ugliness, deadness, and thorns.

But when rose blossoms at last spread their color’d fragrance,
Humankind is blessed, touched and inspired by true beauty.

Somewhere Someone: Romantic IMprov Sonnet

July 7, 2010

Somewhere someone will dance with me.
When my face she spies and sees
rhubarb and lavender in my hand
she’ll think I’m grand.

She’ll laugh and watch out her balcony
as I leave, just to see
if I a backwards glance will give
and sing “On the street where you live”.

She’ll keep, pressed, a daffodil
I once, unbidden, laid on her windowsill.
When I drive a long distance,
she’ll anticipate with no resistance.

Somewhere, that someone waits for me…
and I learned, long ago, she is not thee.

Let me be the first: A Valentine’s Day IMprov Sonnet

February 14, 2009

Valentine's Day bouquetLet me be the first
to wish you,
in rhyme and verse,
a day romantic and true.

Let me be the one
to unveil, on this day,
like the red dawning sun,
a radiant bloom’d bouquet!

Though not of cheerful daffodil,
nor lilacs (smelled, seen, not heard!)
Not of sweetest rose, nor orchid’s fragrant thrill:
This flowery bunch is made of words!

For though these words* new from fingers start,
they’ve long been growing within my heart!

*thoughts