The lilac (Novelinee)
With branching dense inflorescences
fragrant blooms the purple pure lilac
quite softly touches all of the senses,
its scent still lingers while the night is black
and in this very happy early spring
its vivid bright beauty I do behold
while it feels as if I am truly living
see nature with its great bounty unfold,
somewhat cheerful in a world that is cold.
poem by Gert Strydom

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Preparation Day
The light is fading early today.
Rain turns the whole world to night.
I drive through watery streets,
headlights
stretch to bright tapers,
red lamps
softly trailing
blood beneath my wheels.
Death’s details
fill my busy day.
First, the uncut granite,
sorted and sized,
words neatly arranged,
ready to inscribe
the bare facts of your life,
and then on to the small, white house,
with its big front window and spring garden
hidden behind the black iron gate;
this is where your party will be.
Our guests will arrive soon,
and I must order flowers, great
purple blooms
to dim this too bright room.
Now we’re nearly finished,
but first I must see
to your final ground,
small patch
of turned earth,
and then tomorrow you can finally rest.
Attend us gently
as we weep
and slowly walk away.
poem by Steven Federle

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Something About The Girl Called Spring (Sonnet Corona)
I
Just after winter you are back enchanting
with unfolding blossoms on hot sunny days
playing your roles in all your beautiful ways
as if every day is a grand setting
with colours and smells alluring, inviting
man, animals and insects to stray
in orchards, gardens and in the veldt to play
wherever you may be wandering
while insects and birds sing sweet melodies,
even the breeze is charming
in the season that you bequeath
that becomes a time of sweet memories
while everywhere life is swarming;
flowers are as fragrant as your breath.
II
Flowers are as fragrant as your breath
and outside the sun does shine
where flowers and insects ephemeral awaits death
living just as small specs of the will divine.
There are tales about flowers and butterflies that you tell,
about all the minute things, before the first shadows fall
but you have to mention the Creator as well
who fathered everything, created all.
His gardens fill the earth in sheer exuberance
while in summer and spring, in daylight hours
bees, butterflies and birds dance
around the fragrant flowers
in their winged flight,
from early twilight.
III
From early twilight
you are everywhere sent
until the dark night
for the whole world’s enjoyment
and flowering fair
you dance along
without a moment to spare
singing a cheerful song
as a seasonal creature being sweet,
dressed very serene
dancing with fairly like feet
as the essence of the productive machine
and nature everywhere tells,
spring is awaking in smells.
IV
Spring is awaking in smells
with birds singing
rising from the valleys and dells,
sounding in joy about the beauty she is bringing
even every bird, deer and bee,
as the blessings have come
as a time of tranquillity to some
until all of nature is happy and free
when love is finally finding its home
and spring is especially dear to me,
in the air above there’s a vibrant hue
as if it’s a living kind of blue
specked with flocks of birds in their flight;
spring is dressed in white.
V
Spring is dressed in white,
dressed for her wedding day,
when she blesses wherever her flowers stray
in celebration in every day and night
while she dances from early morning light
inviting all her guests, the birds and bees to play,
while she lingers everything is gay
in colours jubilant and bright
with butterflies filling the air,
humming yellow and black bees,
even joined by flying birds that in joy sing
roaming among the almond, peach and pear,
flying to and fro from the blue gum trees
in the unfolding of spring.
VI
In the unfolding of spring
it came to my mind
the words, the deeds and every thing,
of the troublesome kind
that man does to his fellow human beings
as if he is inclined
to act only to his own interest without any feelings,
as if so designed
but around me the new awakenings
are totally unrestrained
in days and evenings
with beauty that is gained
while everywhere flowers are rising,
I long for an eternal spring’s blessing.
VII
I long for an eternal spring’s blessing
as if the Godly plan
in a place where everything is living,
is still in effect for man,
where the songs of birds through the hubbub ring
as if the singing birds are right here
bringing pleasure to everything
making existing so sweet and sincere,
as if from the very beginning
the Lord God was near,
even before human beings were sinning
when these joyous songs fall on the ear:
.
with all of the love that God is granting,
just after winter you are back enchanting.
poem by Gert Strydom

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The Beauty of Spring
The Beauty of Spring
I am looking out of a glass window.
I see a group of cherry blossom trees in the distance.
Nearby, there is a quaint little house.
This magnificence takes my breathe away.
The Beauty of Spring.
Daffodils are blooming.
Butterflies are fluttering through the air.
Robins are singing there beautiful song.
The world is coming back to life after a long winter.
The Beauty of Spring.
A gentle breeze skims across my face.
I inhale the sweet scent of flowers.
I see a world of gorgeous and vivid colors.
I absolutely love spring.
The Beauty of Spring.
I am Taking in The Beauty of Spring
poem by Bleeding Heart

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The Birth of Spring
The Birth of Spring
By: Adam M. Snow
A birth of Spring brings flowers bloom,
A beauty that reigns from nature's womb;
Bringing forth a new day of yore;
A beauty that reigns forevermore.
Heaving the life of nature to nature,
As the world within matures.
The flowers blooms ever so gracefully,
A Spring sunshine O' so blissfully.
The life of Spring so frail and gentle,
Like a rose or that of lentil.
It is evermore so sweet to wonder,
The scent of Spring would sunder.
And by the night, the stars glisten be,
Spring at it's glory, a song decrees.
A melody so sweet and peaceful to be heard;
The calming voice of nature's word,
That glistens the wind and flowers alike,
Flowing 'gainst the wind like a shrike.
She dance with a melody,
Like a wild felidae;
The petals of roses flows the wind.
I stand here in awe of nature's friend.
poem by Adam M. Snow

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Behold, I adore beauty
Beauty is warm and cold
Beauty is black and bold
Beauty is different for us all I am told
Beauty I would love a chance to mould
Beauty gives the finest pleasure I am told
Beauty can be bought and sold
To the one and only highest bidder
While it graciously glitters like gold
I adore beauty
Oh! How I adore beauty with a passion
I adore beauty with every last breath
Beauty itself is not exempt
From the laws of birth and death
It experiences the joys of being young and old
Blossoming each day in early youth
Maturing adoringly each day with age
Behold, I adore beauty
Oh! How I adore beauty with a passion
Beauty is something I would like to hold
Where there is too much ugly
I can bring it out of a drawer and unfold
Spread it around the entire household
Without worrying about getting a scold
Behold, I adore beauty
Oh! How I adore beauty
When out on a nightie
Quite hungry and thirsty
And you drink the last drops of milk
From a beautiful chest that is busty
I would say, that itself is a faculty of beauty
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi

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Everything Vivid oh so Real
So surreal
everything appears
too real to be real
sober wide eye lucid mind
hallucinations?
How dull our perception
what we deem to be real
hydrogen strawberry patch
purple atmosphere soil
harvest dawn
streaks of violet orange-red
blood shed
sky's living proof
cloud's ceremonial formation
channeling spirits of great
distant cousin mountain ranges
sky
vivid oh so real
trees
vivid oh so real
auto metallic body paint
vivid oh so real
neighbor's sleep eye smile
vivid oh so real
morning rabbithole obligations
vivid oh so real
stage and spot light silence
vivid oh so real
flying feathered wake-up calls
vivid oh so real
everything I see
everything I touch
vivid oh so real
everything I feel
everything I imagine
vivid oh so real
dew transfers from
air to grass to my
bare flesh
vivid oh so real
my body
everything within
everything without
vivid oh so real
tepid bitterness
lukewarm caffeine fix
vivid oh so real
every illusion
performed by the senses
vivid oh so real
meditations under fulsome
tree branches
peace of mind
vivid oh so real
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan

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Once again the spring has come
Once again the spring has come
and all around blooms,
our faces are wreathed with smiles.
The spring is working wonders
with the entire world
kindling the hearts by springtime thunders.
The spring has brought the warmth,
there is no more colds;
the snow has thawed in our souls;
the teardrops have melted down
and ran away in the Vernal waters,
starlings become the reporters of spring,
our souls bloom together with spring,
our hearts feel like to sing
and the dropping snow do dings.
No one feels perfectly at ease
with the tenderness of springtime breeze.
Our Mother nature promises new things;
new hopes, new dreams it brings.
Once again the spring has come,
flying in the sky like a swallow
inviting us to follow it's flight,
to see the land from the birds-eye view,
to show us how far the spring flew.
Once again the spring has come
to serve our hearts and nature,
to renew everything in our world,
to be in use for a new adventure.
Spring, spring, spring!
The kingdom of immortality!
It comes to show us world's beauty
and wisdom of humans mentality.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska

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An Open Secret!
Can you unfold rose bud as naturally as it is?
Sun flower blooms by the sight of Sun all days;
Lily flower blooms by the sight of Moon all days.
Is it possible to do so by me or your presence?
Nature does wonder we cannot even imagine!
Seeing Nature many things are created often;
But all delicate things can man do as Nature?
Natural expression has a value of its own sure;
Learning and doing things are different matter;
Same thing happens in the creativity of poetry.
All things happening in Nature are great wonders;
But who does care to note things of beauty in Nature?
Divine spirit present in all things of Nature is clear; but
Ignorance of man fails him to realize this open secret!
poem by Ramesh T A

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Pride Of Africa
I can hear and see clear
I can see the signs of cascading black waterfalls
Drizzling our soil with dazzling beauties
Charming sight to behold like a bouncing breast
Beauty in black
Beauty so unique
And beauty second to none
I can hear and see clear
A beauty best known to the diamond merchants
Not to the lay man who easily pick on street
I can hear and see clear
A sound of beating black drums
And a singing of a dulcet black voice
Coming from gently all the sides
Like cold gentle breezes blowing
from atlantic ocean
So cool and gentle
A black beauty carefully composed in black
Sparking lightenings across the globe
Just a bright-black skin and a green soil
As agents of beauties that brighten the world
It is nature's gifts that can't be changed
Beauties of intelligents
Beauties of creativities
And beauties of cultures
That is black in beauty
A beauty beaming even in the dark
For all to see and to believe
For all to taste and appreciate
That is black beauty
The prides of Africa....
¤NTA! !
(30/july/2012)
11: 41 - 11: 58
poem by Naseeru Taneemu Annuree

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Spring,2004
Spring is bursting
In the Air,
Flowers budding
Everywhere...
Magnolia Blossoms
Open wide,
Daffodills
Both yellow & white...
Spring is Special
Every year,
A Lilac fragrance
In the air...
Dogwoods blooming
Over night
Hyacinths,
So purple and bright...
Spring is here,
It's plain to see
Squirrels scampering
In the trees...
Birds are chirping
From above
Spring Miracles
We Share With Love...
poem by Carmen Strawn

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Purple Splendor
Shiny and purple trumpets
Tiny bright and purple
Hyacinth flowers
Make fragrant hours
Fragrant trumpets
Bright purple hyacinths
Inside an artichoke jar
On a marble table of carved cherubins
I love thee more than
My color TV.
poem by M.L. Squier

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Old Madge
Old Madge who is in her late eighties is suffering from failing sight
But her memory it is flawless and she remains lucid and bright
She has vivid memories of her childhood which she feels happy to recall
I've had a good life she will tell you but my childhood years were best of all,
Her two great grand daughters are in their mid teens she says them I often do see
They are kind and lovely young ladies they always have been good to me
Her husband Tom died ten years ago they were married for fifty years
His end it was so slow and painful and memories of him still move her to tears
But she has got on with living life she says we cannot dwell in the past
The present is all that does matter though nothing in life seems to last
She surely is an inspiration the Madges of this World are rare
And though her sight it is slowly fading she is one unburdened by care
She always is happy and cheerful and she looks younger than her age
And from her life experiences she has learned much she surely is a female sage.
poem by Francis Duggan

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A September Day
A thing of such great beauty to behold
The wattles resplendent in their blooms of gold
The first week of September and Spring is in the air
And in the green park daisies bloom everywhere,
On a day like this 'tis good to be alive
To start your car and go off on a drive
So great to live to see another Spring
To hear the nesting wild birds chirp and sing,
Were i a poet i would write a simple lay
For to celebrate this beautiful Spring day
To celebrate the beauty i can see
Where the Goddess of Spring has spread her greenery
And the wattles laden in their golden flowers
Look resplendent in these mild September hours.
poem by Francis Duggan

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The BLACK ROSE
I've kissed the petal of the black rose as the morning dew blushed its black hue. I felt a passion beyond anything I knew, a flame, a fire, a burning desire for the black rose its petals to unfold, its beauty to behold. Your Love had me entangled upon your vine I dangled, Chained to the black rose petals I wrangled. Upon your bed in the early dew I found a colored rose petal, another heart that throbbed for you a flame that burned now an amber. Who too had thought you true and kissed the black rose petals blushing hue. Those barbed thorns upon your vine; so sharp; the lies, the deceit, the cheat; they cut, tear, bleed and don't prepare for the hurt they leave. Bold and daunting were you in your haunting. I wanted love but it was my soul you stole. In the ice cold blight of the winter night the black rose had froze. I cried, in the glistening icy snow; for the black rose had no heart to with stand the blight of that winter night. What it had was a cold heart with sharp thorns to enfold, the last cold kiss of death on the black rose shows I have no love to share or hold.
poem by Vanita Allgood

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Sensing Purple
Purple feels like a sigh
And smells like a baguette.
Purple tastes like a pie
Served by a string quartette.
Purple looks like violet,
With a darker sort of hue…
Purple sounds like lilac
Tuned to reddish blue.
poem by M.J. McGuire

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The Beauty Within
A beauty that comes from within
is a beauty that age cannot wrinkle
Not distracted by a simple pimple
But a radiant face of joy and pleasure
A woman of inner beauty
Is a life full of love and bounty
Her sweet smile will never fade away
For the Lord is her security
She longs for a pure heart
And wears a cheerful countenance
She does not need a color to overhaul
For her beauty is within after all
Nov.11,2008
poem by Meggie Gultiano

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A Winter Bloom,
In winter a flower blooms
unique and vivid
It sweet scent looms
Bringing out all its essence
A winters gift
In its eccentric presence
stands out like a star
In the dark clear sky
It dazzles with beauty
A treat to the eye
So vulnerable and fragile
But still full of mite
The storms don't harm
The frost cant bite
As the spring
Begins to settle
The flower whimpers
And drops a petal
spring flowers begin to bloom
but this lonely blossom
Meets its doom
poem by Nic Hillen

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Fade To Purple
As if Im sitting on purple clouds
Covered in purple shrouds
Singing purple kissed melodies loud
The Purple Master himself would be proud
Gifted, these fragrant purple flowers
Soaking wet, drenched from purple showers
Lifted, high high high atop purple towers
Yet as I walk through purple haze rooms
Filled with purple phased fumes
Im enlightened by the purple tazed blooms
Purple vibes that remove crazed glooms
Hungry I appetize on purple wood blunts
To then feast upon a purple smoke lunch
Break bread, along with the purple grape bunch
Fade To Purple To Get Me Through The Crunch
poem by Jamie Ellen Christian

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Rose An Inspiration
Rose, the sign of love
Beauty is picturesque
Speaks for itself
An inspiration
Rose, scent is everlasting
Always fresh upon the eyes
Keeping a pose of pure divine
Beauty evokes
An inspiration
Rose, pedals are smooth
With a bounty of great beauty
Shows affectionate feelings
Has a unique power
An inspiration
Rose, sways slowly in a breeze
Perfuming a scent all its own
So, sweet and light
An inspiration
Rose, in full bloom, it is radiant
As it whispers of passion
Breathes of love
An inspiration
Rose, each thorn has a reminder
Rose, is fragile and delicate
Love can hurt
An inspiration
Rose, a token of great love
An inspiration
poem by Elizabeth Grant Price

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A Song of the Lilac
Above the wall that's broken,
And from the coppice thinned,
So sacred and so sweet
The lilac in the wind!
And when by night the May wind blows
The lilac-blooms apart,
The memory of his first love
Is shaken on his heart.
In tears it long was buried,
And trances wrapt it round;
O how they wake it now,
The fragrance and the sound!
For when by night the May wind blows
The lilac-blooms apart,
The memory of his first love
Is shaken on his heart.
poem by Louise Imogen Guiney

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