Today is St. Patrick’s Day! So, in soaking up the local color, we ask you to think GREEN! Your poems for this prompt will be tinged with a bit of green. You can write a St. Patrick’s Day poem, something from OZ (Emerald City), an Irish poem, being envious (green with envy), the grass is always greener poem, green around the gills… you can see where this can go. Everything green is fair game… except broccoli. Anyone writing a broccoli poem will have to stay after school and water the plants! Go green, people!
MARIE ELENA’S GREEN IDEA:
Who decided grass Should grace everybody’s lawn? Moss keeps itself cut. © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013 (Note: No broccoli was mentioned in the writing of this haiku.)WALT’S LITTLE GREEN SPROUT:
IT’S NOT THAT EASY BEING
You live with the cards you’re dealt,
when it is felt that it’s a losing hand
you throw all in and try again.
Shuffle the deck and say what the heck,
you’ve nothing to lose but a lot of green.
Life is not a game, but all the same
it’s not that easy being.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
Green with envy at the great starts you two have set for us to follow.
Awesome prompt! My name means “Ireland, green water, and peace” and my birthstone is emerald, which has definitely sparked a love for all things that have to do with Ireland…and green. 😉
Love your haiku, Marie! I think moss is so pretty.
Walt, your poem is amazing! “You live with the cards you’re dealt…” What a great line!
I can never understand people struggling to get rid of moss on lawns for that very reason, Marie. As for Wallt, it’s even harder being green.. Being a quarter Irish, I take Saint Patrick’s Day full on.
Evergreen
Northwest winds swirl around me,
Tallest pines encircle me;
From one side sea breezes float,
From the other, hot, dry winds,
Laced with scent of apples, wafts.
These two regions,
Opposite, yet
Side by side
In harmony.
And in between them tower
The vast range of the Cascades,
Pinnacles of earth and rock,
Clothed in clouds and greenest trees,
Robed in purple majesty.
I close my eyes,
And breathe in deep,
And feel the fall
Of gentle rain:
Drops of clearest love from the
Sky, to freshen this green earth.
Above me seagulls wheel and
Hawks and little swallows soar,
Beneath, grass and clover grow.
I live in the
Evergreen State,
And I’m so proud,
So proud of it!
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Hey, there are things about Washington that suck, I agree, but for sheer opposite, tamed and untaned beauty, I can think of no place better! 🙂
A beautiful green poem.
Thank you, Viv!
A lovely tribute to WA, Erin. It does have its diversity. There’s no doubt about that.
Thank you, Claudsy! We live in Eastern WA, but usually head to Western WA for a camping trip once a year. I can’t decide which I like more, but probably the eastern side cause its close to the sea…and Seattle! 🙂
We go over to the coast quite frequently for those who don’t live in the state. We like some parts of it more than others, as most people do all states they explore. Everywhere has its favorite spots.
Wow! I said that completely backwards! We live in Western WA, and that’s the side I like the best. Whoops!
My oldest daughter lives in WA with her family. They just moved to Richland from Snoqualmie and I’m anxious to get out and see their new city. Snoqualmie is beautiful but she says Richland beautiful in a completely different way.
Your poem takes me there for sure.
Hey, I’m in Portland, Oregon. I share your pain and beauty. This poem is so beautifully written.
Going Green
Going green has been our quest, we’re going green again
Painting the halls and walls of the upstairs bedroom.
A bright fluorescent with wallpaper pink,
We’ve spent our sense on this offense, methinks we have gone mad.
But we know to stand where our culture demands. “Go Green!” no less.
Our current car shows were we are: oh, climate, rejoice!
The bumper sticker speaks loud and clear for the neighbor’s constant quiz:
“Did they really paint on green flames?”
Look back:
“Oh, yes, they did.”
So this Saint Patty’s we again went batty, (for I am but one of the clan,
The saner voice admidst the noise of color-scheme-themed-madmen.)
Green shoes, green shirt, green belt—our choice to fit in might backfire.
Green pants, green hands and contacts complete us. Hey, culture? Get inspired.
This is so fun! I’ve never actually dressed up or anything for St. Patrick’s Day, but I love all the little four leafed clovers and lepricons. 🙂
Good one, Dilettante.Fun and asking others to join in. I enjoyed it.
Welcome, Dilettante! I enjoyed your poem as well, and hope to hear more from you!
Marie Elena
My poem won ‘t copy here, as it is all in green: http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com/2013/03/16/a-song-for-patricks-day/
Such a sweet poem, Viv!!
That was such a fun one, Viv. Right in the spirit of things, wouldn’t you say?
Hear, hear!
Marie Elena
How peaceful the last poem was! Reading aloud: “Evergreen” gave me
an evocative lullaby that described a state I’ve stayed in but obviously never “seen”. Thank you, Ms. Hope.
Aw, thank you!! I’ve lived all my life in this beauty that’s evergreen…I have a deep set love for it.
(A Haiku)
What pleases me more
Than Maytime emeralds? My
Daddy’s bright green eyes.
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
So sweet, Erin!
Lovely Erin!
Sweet, Erin.
Thanks, you three! 🙂
Viridescent
I see this color often
collected from sea glass
like viridescent carpets
comprised of soft lush grass
I often find bland color
of rip-roaring sea foam
in curtains, clothes, and vases
scattered about the home
It’s the color of go
when traffic light has changed
that flush of jealousy
when your slightly deranged
It’s the color of kiwi’s,
avocados young shoots
It’s the sheen on Grinch’s face
when he hollers and hoots
It’s leprechauns colors,
shades of moon-colored cheese
It’s the color of stains
when kids crawl on their knees
It’s the color of money, envy, & greed
found in peace pipes, it’s called crazy weed
distilled into color
Absinthe and Chartreuse
but I’d much rather have mint,
with fresh wheatgrass juice
It’s the color of fire
with copper sulfate
It’s license plate color
of Green Mountain State
It’s the color of pride
for the Irish they say
It’s the color of beer
on Saint Patrick’s Day
© ~ Randy Bell ~ 2013
Nice one, Randy! There are definitely a lot of things with the color of green.
Hang it all, Randy, I think you’ve covered with entire world with Green. It is all of those things and so much more. I’ll be back to bring a few other tastes of green. Love it. It gave me so many mental pictures, like a kaleidoscope whizzing ’round. Thanks..
What an adventure in green, Randy. Think I’ll stick with the Absinthe, though.
Shamrock
Shamrock, three green leaves atop
a spindly stem of clover.
Celts honored you in lore
as triad at nature’s core.
St Patrick, it’s often said,
as Christian metaphor,
used the shamrock’s leaves of three
to show the Trinity.
Later, emblem it became
of Irish Volunteers
symbol of Erin’s great pride
English rule deeply tried.
St Patrick’s Day we acclaim
the seventeenth of March
in Ireland a Holy Day
though here green beer holds sway.
Growing up I thought we had some Irish blood in our background cause my grandfather was a redheaded caricature of a hardscrabble, hard drinking, fighting man in his youth (by the time I knew him he was a Christian). His last name was Tilley but in searching it seems it was an English name. I guess everyone wants to be Irish.
A great poem, one you read beautifully yesterday, Debi, at our St. Paddy’s Day event.
Lovely poem! My mom was just telling me about the real St. Patrick story the other day. Well done, Debi!!
Good one, Debi. You always thought your line carried the Green. I always believed Dad came from English/German descent. I found out several years ago that–no, his side was pure Scot/Irish all the way back to before Jamestown. Some of my preferences seemed explained upon learning that fact. Love the pipes of both those sides and always fascinated by the Little People of Éire.
So many greens-nice, I love it.
Randy, that comment was for your poem – don’t know what I did to place it here!
Yeah, gets to ya, doesn’t it? 🙂
Good one, Debi!
there’s a patch of green in my post today: http://www.shinethedivinecreativityisaspiritualpractice.com/2013/03/freedom-and-love.html
Love the picture of grass peeking through the snow in a heart shape. It is so sweet when you find hearts in nature.
Nice, Laura. You always have such lovely verse and great photos.
Lovely photo and accompanying verse. Thank you for sharing, Laura!
Marie Elena
WORDS OF IRISH WISDOM
a leprechaun once told me
“the Irish have the luck,”
so pretending I was Irish
I acted like a kluck,
Waving four-leaf clovers,
broguing loudly in the green:
“top o’ the morning” all over,
the likes you’ve never seen.
then I asked the little fellow
where I might find that pot of gold
and he laughed so hard he bellowed,
“that’s a legend that’s quite old.
the only way to riches
is work hard and persevere.
there ain’t no other hitches.
that’s what makes the gold appear.”
now he’s gone forever,
but each year on Paddy’s Day,
I chant in my endeavor
to let magic come my way.
the gold that I was seeking
is an angel in my life:
of what lassie am I speaking?
Why, begorra, she’s my wife!
#
Lovely!!
Aww, very sweet, Sal!
You love to make Sharon blush! I’m sure she loves this poem though.
Love it, Sal. The pacing was so perfect for the brogue. You always have such wonderful poetry for sharing. Thank you.
Ireland
God took the color of the sun,
mixed it with the blue sky
and made the special green
found only on the Emerald Isle.
Oh, to see that glorious shade
up close and personal again!
Beautiful!! I want to see it too!
Ireland is definitely near the top of the travel bucket list for me. Nicely written!
Lovely, Sally. To go and see, to touch and know, to remember–that’s the key.
Defiance
I’ve been here these twenty years.
What started as a row of seedlings
has grown into and entangled jungle.
I gaze wistfully out the window
overlooking the parking lot, watching
children come and go as years pass.
They slip me cafeteria lunches
and I survive. And it’s all because
I wrote a poem about broccoli.
Nice to see there’s another rebel in the garden this morning! Well done, Connie!
I see several of us have a mischief maker inside us! Well done Connie!
Yes! My first thought was that I would have to write about broccoli. Nicely done!
Too fun, Connie. I read it several times to find all of it’s meaning. Believe it or not, I found three separate takes on this verse and all of them unique. Excellent. I’m going to enjoy believing the meaning I liked the best, too.
I take it you don’t care for the vegetable of that name–I dare not speak openly of it here, though I love it myself. Shhh… I’ll get ousted if the vegetable police catch me.
I didn’t know it had any meaning. I was just goofing off. 🙂
See how sneaky your little Muse can be. Of course, it could all depend on one’s frame of mind at the time, Connie. Having said that, what does that say about my mind at the time I read it? Ooo… scary.
Hehe! I haven’t written my broccoli poem yet, but it’s on the way!
Ha! Very cool.
HA!! Love it, Connie!
Marie Elena
I guess this is one of those days when I live up to the “Mary Mary Quite Contrary” title.
The Broccoli Limerick
While broccoli can have quite an edge,,
It still is a wonderful veg.
I’m not sure if this mention
Earns poetic detention,
So my cruciferous bets I will hedge.
lol They shouldn’t tempt us so.
He he he! Love it Mary!
I LIKE broccoli… and your limerick!
Me too, Mary!
Too good, Mary. Kate has it right. Yay!
Nice one!
An Ode to ….
Your dark verdant leaves,
your earthy fragrance heaves
into the nether reaches of my mind.
Amongst your stalks
fairy folk give talks
on rainbows and pots that are gold lined.
I like you raw
I liked you cooked with, ah
butter and spices, so refined.
So with a hearty chuckle,
please don’t crack your knuckle,
I am resigned…
to water plants, unwind.
An Ode to … Broccoli
… and watering plants is a pleasant way to spend some time, really, isn’t it?
Ah, Michelle, this was marvelous. I, too, am of the watering crew, for to be without this lovely dinner companion is unthinkable at our house.
Wonderful! Nice to have some help on the watering crew lol! 😀
Oh my! So many impudent rebels today! Great poem, Michelle!
Thanks everyone! 🙂
emerald
my eyes reflect the land
at peace
green
the envy crawls the walls
slow death
A Life of Cleanliness
green
I don’t want to drink it
nor breathe it
but I must think it
to keep the land
green
Michelle, you really went on a green binge, and rightfully so. These short spurts are great and each tells of a different segment of interpretation.
These are all lovely, Michelle!!
Thanks and yes I did Claudsy. 🙂 Thanks Erin.
Michelle, these are wonderful. I particularly like the first haiku.
The Emerald Coast
When the sky is clear
And the waters calm
There is no white like
The white of the sand
On our shining beaches
And there is no green
Like the green of the water
As it laps at the shores
Along the Emerald Coast
You have to see it for yourself
To believe the natural beauty
Of the emerald green waters
Lapping on the snow white beaches
It’s a sight to behold
© Earl Parsons 2013
I agree, Earl! Nothing like it, anywhere!
Someday, Earl, I’ll join the watchers off-shore. I’ll get to see for myself what ancestors left behind. Love the poem.
It sounds so beautiful! I’m definitely going someday!
Love your poems, Walt and Marie. I’ll be back in a while to throw some green down on the table in honor of the day and your prompt.
Green Veggies
“I won’t eat anything green.” ~Kurt Cobain
I won’t eat anything that’s green.
No broccoli, spinach, tiny peas.
Not even sauced or baked with cheese.
I am the anti-veggie Queen.
I will not eat a French-cut bean.
Kale? Chard? Collards? Nope, none of these!
No broccoli, spinach, tiny peas.
I won’t eat anything that’s green.
Romaine and cabbage ain’t my scene
and Brussels sprouts? Forget it. Geez!
Asparagus? No way. Oh please!
And nix the celery. I mean,
I won’t eat anything that’s green.
###
(After I get a bit of studying accomplished, I’ll try to write something a bit more … hmmmm … nicely green. 😀
RJ, you showed us your major prejudice–it’s GREEN! Aren’t you afeared of retribution fro those of us so inclined to spout odes to those vegetables wallowing in the color?
Have no fear, my friend. I have too many friends who abhor stalks of anything, or rampant grass-colored foods. It’s been referred to as “I’m not a cow to graze on grass.”
Love it.
Rebuttal Re Green Veggies
Oh gosh! I dissed green? (Oh, the shame.)
I’m not a veg-bigot, I swear.
To show that I really do care
I’ll eat a big salad. I’m game.
You’ll see then. I would not defame
that leafy green stuff. (Are we square?)
I’m not a veg-bigot, I swear.
Oh gosh! I dissed green? (Oh, the shame.)
My taste buds are really to blame.
I hope you’ll forgive me. This err
won’t happen again. Now aware,
I’ll be kind when making a claim.
Oh gosh! I dissed green? (Oh, the shame.)
###
(Actually, while I am a bit of a picky eater, I do LOVE salads… and some other veggies, too! 😀 )
However, the quote was just too much fun not to use.
Thanks, Claudsy!
You’re so welcome, RJ. Hahaha, you did such a great job of that rebuttal, too. Laughed all the way through it. Such a talented poet. I admit–I don’t do all the deep greens either, but don’t let me near a salad bar with its temptations. I’ll roll out of the restaurant about an hour later and waddle home.
Thanks for doing a second delightful verse.
Brilliant RJ! Love both of your poems here! 🙂
Haha! My older sister would hate this! She is a confirmed vegan. 😉
Yes, yes, Marie Elena: moss. And chickweed and dandelions, too.
The Stately Queen – a Limerick
There was a bit of emerald green
upon the breast of the stately queen.
She came to have some tea
while gazing at the sea
before dancing like a young colleen.
Good one, Michelle. Fun!
Thanks Claudsy, I realized I couldn’t do a green poem on St. Patrick’s Day without doing a Limerick! 🙂
After all, it’s only right, isn’t it?
🙂
Daffodils
Grassy knolls of
Ravishing daffodils
Each clad in sunny hue
Eagerly lift their heads and
Nod to skies of blue.
So sweet, Debi.
Beautiful! Daffodils are my favoritest flowers ever!
3-17-13 PB Prompt #99 Write a “Green” poem.
Éire (Haibun)
Who plucked a piece of Heaven to lie at mortals’ feet? Who coined the word “green” to describe its color and promise riches at rainbow’s end? Between the shores of this land rose song, lore, and verse to grace the world as a bracelet’s charm lest it ever forget those who dared bring forth such beauty. That race from Underhill who walked before men left behind their magic to snare the unwary, to brighten the lives of those dragged down by daily woes, and to promise always to remember that the magic of life comes with the sod.
Time peoples land’s home,
Delicate droplets of Grace,
Fall on Earth’s Heaven.
How beautiful, Claudsy! You are truly one of the most talented poets I’ve ever had the honor to read!
Aw, bless you, Erin. That’s such a kind thing to say. You’re no slouch yourself, my young friend.
That is really so lovely! *Sigh*
Thanks so much, RJ. Coming from you that’s a huge compliment.
This is just gorgeous, Claudsy. I love this form.
Thank you so much, Sara. I’m so glad you liked it.
And the firm was something that grew from the subject.
Uhm, let me post one poem for #99. Hopefully, I won’t forget to post one for #100, as well:
###
Green has millions of colours
Millions of eyes to see it
Innocence, naiveté or simply freshness
In the mountains of summer
—
© 2013 Mariya Koleva
I like It! Good one, Mariya.
Nice one, Mariya!
[…] A “GREEN” poem for dVerse and Poetic Bloomings […]
[…] God’s Green Earth – Prompt #99 (poeticbloomings.com) […]
EXPLOSIVE MIXTURE
Old McCarthy, who played a euphonium
hated Molski, who played a harmonium.
When they met, the tumult
would produce one result:
a great brannigan fused with polonium.
Fun!
Gone Green
Global warming rouses trees
from needed rest to bud and leaf,
awakened by a summer breeze
in winter, their dormancy brief.
If forests must forsake REM sleep
for naps, and never wake refreshed,
can they still do their part to keep
the planet breathing, feathered, fleshed?
I ponder such things in the daze
of morning after sleepless night,
when bark looks gray and tired in ways
that stir my pity in the light.
Humanity is inhumane
in using well our earth’s resource;
our carelessness makes us profane.
Is it too late to change our course?
Think Green! We cheer St. Patty’s shades
of Kelly, forest, dollar, moss.
In green, we watch rainforests fade
hardly aware of what is lost.
It looks to be an early spring
where winter barely spoke its name.
In days the layered greens will bring
new chances to live just the same.
Oh how sad…and true! I feel sorry for the poor trees! Lovely poem, Jane!
oops! Stanza 4 second line should read “not using well…” Sorry.
Eire
I want to visit Tír na nÓg.
Is there a magic horse for me?
This emerald land I want to see:
Tuatha Dé Danann’s in vogue
and all the fae folk speak in brogue.
Perhaps I’ll come in time for tea.
Is there a magic horse for me?
I want to visit Tír na nÓg.
Oh what a brilliant mythologue!
I’ll sail across a sparkling sea
and introduce myself. That’s key.
I’ll offer gifts. I am no rogue.
I want to visit Tír na nÓg.
###
Guess I’m part of the plant watering brigade too! 😉
Miniature Trees
Leafy boughs,
And light green stalks,
Strong, fresh smell,
Dark green clusters.
They grow in the garden
Like miniature trees,
Growing and reaching,
Spreading their branches,
‘Til they’re gathered and harvested,
And cooked in stir fry,
They’re little trees of
Broccoli!!
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Very nice, Erin! This reminds me so much of my nephew, when he was young he refused to eat broccoli but was thrilled to eat “little trees” dipped in ranch. We’ll save a watering hose for you! 😉
Thanks, Mary! I’ll definitely need one of them hoses if Walt sees this poem… 😉
THE SPEARMINT GREEN GIRL
My memory’s faint on that point
but I think her name was Tracy.
Or Stacey.
Or Lacey.
Or something that ended eee.
I called her Spearmint Green.
Not to her face. I was better mannered
than to disgrace the long
lecturous lessons of my mother’s
good intentions,
but that’s what I called her in my head.
Spearmint Green.
She rushed by us like a gazelle chased,
a tendril breeze that blew kisses
fresh as an icy spearmint morning,
and we girls in our light blue gym shorts
and white canvas shoes, our eyes
squinted and fingertips lining up
combination numbers with clicks on locks,
we less fragment girls,
we less fresh girls
who finished the unlocking of lockers
with kicks at metal olive-green painted doors,
we girls who just smelled like girls should
after gym class, well, we were in greenish
envy of Spearmint Green — that girl
who threw stops and starts into our
every well laid stinking plan,
that minty gazelle of a girl who chewed
stick after stick of green-tinted spearmint
and left us behind, sniffing in her fragrant
green breeze — that girl who put me right off
my affection for the green tints of mint.
That girl I called Spearmint Green.
Oh, I knew that girl in school! I resented her. She always looked cool and clean and un-flustered, every hair-in-place; no matter the occasion.
Yep, that’s the girl! 😀
Sprig Soddit
Da widter has returd agaid
to drape da weary lawd id white
a cover harsh as bordig light
upod de ice. It’s often said
about dis cruel bunth dat wed
it cubs id wid a liod’s bite
it goes out like a lab, id spite
of fears we hode dat sprig is dead.
Do I wut Daylight Sabigs? Dough!
Just gibee warber days ad sud,
to prove dat sprigtibe has begud!
I let by Kleedex boughted grow:
Sate Patrick, sdot ad buds udseed:
Oh Barch! Cub turd our world greed!
thunk gob; springtibe has begud! in spite of your poor English!
Very clever, Andrew! Here, have another tissue and keep hoping for warmer weather! 🙂
Thaks!
I. Lub. Diss.
Put away the tissues, Andrew. Spring is just a little tardy for you.
Love the poem!
A Green Salute
To every shoot, every sprout in every shade
Of green, green, green
Spring’s banner now waving
Over our northern side of earth –
Welcome! We say “Welcome”
To the grass that overcomes its winter brown
To the weeds which later will be rooted out
But today tell us the garden
Is still alive, the earth, our mother, fertile
Waiting only for the seed to be planted.
Even the rocks, dull patient,
Today they wear a brighter shade of moss
Emerald, like jewels tossed upon the ground
To all who slept away the winter
Dream no more!
The world has awakened
Arise! Arise!
Celebrate the green!
[…] Written for Poetic Bloomings. […]
Verdance
I envy
these trees
their ability
to shoot the breeze
with the sun.
If there’s one
thing I know,
it’s leaving.
I long
to learn
their sparrow song,
spun jade
and un
jaded into swaying limbs
shading silent
me.
Someday I will
when I finally spill
into that emerald
apple sea.
Very clever word, “Verdance”. (I looked it up) I like the fact that
‘leaving’ is now a noun and your ’emerald apple sea’ is splendid.
tho you are not a sparrow, you sing quite well…
This is soooooo beautiful, De! I love “emerald apple sea”. Thanks for inspiring and delighting me once again! 🙂
Love it! That emerald apple sea is calling.
“SpringGreen”
When the sun rolls down
the carpet lace
upon the earth
then spring awakes
in robin song
we blink blue-speckled lashes
under the cool of rain
and drink in the green.
love those blue-speckled lashes!
Beautiful, jlynn. I’m drinking in the green!
Oh, Green, Green, Green, Green, Green!
Comes April, as expected, babbling.
An idiot’s delight, her tresses dressed;
her yellow-noise among the branches sing:
“I lift your spirit with my sunny breast.”
April’s here again; seductive creeper;
among the dandelions nods her song.
Splen`drous! she regales us with her blinders
of green and leafy circles; vining throngs.
And lo, she shows the lock where is my heart.
She promises…defies the morning chill.
No matter, I will trust her insane start.
My mind now stymied underneath her will.
Oh, lunatic! enchanter of the Spring.
And we are willing partners to your green!
Wow, you do have song here. Love “seductive creeper,” and “insane start.”
Think Green
Bully had green teeth,
not emerald,
not spring grass,
more like the underbelly
of cooked lima beans.
Great description here! For some reason, the first thing that popped into my head while reading this was Ralphie’s description of Scott Farkus in A Christmas Story. Really enjoyed this 🙂
Thanks, Mary, that is exactly what I was thinking of!
I love surprises! And I love this poem!
Thanks, Jlynn!
Back with something a bit more serious this time – not a stalk of broccoli in sight! Stretched the prompt just a bit, but I think it works 🙂
Green Days (a cento)
Melodramatic fool
Searching for that someone
At the end of another lost highway,
To live and not to breathe
As my memory rests.
Television dreams of tomorrow
Like graffiti on the walls
Shuffle through my mind.
Pay attention to the cracked streets,
The drum pounding out of time,
Lost children with dirty faces…
I stand laughing on the corner of insignificance,
Speechless and redundant;
I once was lost but never was found.
Lines taken from the following Green Day songs: “Basket Case”, “When I Come Around”, “Jesus of Suburbia”, “Wake Me Up When September Ends”, “American Idiot”, “Last of the American Girls”, “Who Wrote Holden Caulfield?”, “Welcome to Paradise”, “Holiday”, “Stuart and The Ave”, “Redundant”, “21st Century Breakdown”
This poem reminds me so much of the foreign, award winning movie, “La Strada”. Did you know the film?
I’m not familiar with that movie, will have to check it out! 🙂
Olive Isn’t Always Drab
(a double, double fib :))
Green
has
always
been my fave
among the colors.
It goes back to Sunday dinners
with those pimento-stuffed green olives on the table.
I would always point to them and
say “Pretty. Want some.”
And as soon
as I
would
bite
down,
I would
make a face
and spit it out. But
I never gave up. And to this
day I can polish off a whole jar at one sitting.
I never have learned to like ripe
olives, but I sure
do love
the
green.
Ellen Knight 3.17.13
(St. Pat’s Day, write Green)
Fun, Ellen. 🙂 I’ve always liked green olives best. Especially stuffed with something fabulous. LOVE the Fib form, and you have used it well!
THE KEY OF GREEN
It was a Tuesday morning,
when the dog took me
for a walk that I realised
change was in the air.
It was more than weather talk –
the birds whistling
in the key of green,
choruses welcoming
yellow crocuses that spread
fresh as butter on bread
across lawns, and there was
a light spring in my step.
The world was turning green again.
Spring had arrived.
Love the double meaning here of key as music, as well as color. Great piece, Misky.
🙂 Thanks. x
I always have to think twice when i read your poems cuz there’s a gem inside a gem. This time it’s a green one!
When The Night Is Green
At night
the colour green
teases moonlight into emerald
folds of pine scented forests.
It lifts green
from drops of rain
that spill on leaves, soaking
and coaxing
carpets of green
fragrant floors
into renewed jade
mornings.
And so the day turns,
on various shades
of green.
“the birds whistling
in the key of green,” I love that! Very nice Misky
Thank you, Debi! 😀
Oooh! I Want One!
Always happy with my lot,
Till I see something I ain’t got.
Then I start to make a scene,
My blue eyes turn a bright green.
The greedy monster hid within,
Pays scant heed to mortal sin.
Never liking to go without,
I curse and swear, scream and shout.
Till my own self does gave way,
And out comes the plastic card to pay.
Jealousy and greed and lust,
Are sure to see me go bust.
But I’m not at fault; it’s in my bones,
I have to keep up with Messrs Jones.
No, don’t blame me; it’s in my genes,
The Monster within me has eyes of green!
Iain
Iain, I absolutely adore your sense of humor. always. This is a great piece!
Thank you! 🙂
[…] At night the colour green teases moonlight into emerald folds of pine scented forests.It lifts green from drops of rain that spill on leaves, soaking and coaxing carpets of green fragrant floors into renewed jade mornings. And so the day turns, on various shades of green….Poetic Blooming prompt #99 “God’s Green Earth”http://poeticbloomings.com/2013/03/17/gods-green-earth-prompt-99/ […]
[…] by Poetic Bloomings Prompt #99: God’s Green Earth. Posted for day 18 in 100 Days of Spring – […]
VERNAL EQUINOX
(a shadorma)
Gazing through
my window, seven
stories high,
shades of green
across the city showing
me springtime is nigh.
2013-03-19
P. Wanken
Oh, Shadorma Shaman. You have done it again. This is YOUR form, my friend. Gorgeous.
B Word
By David De Jong
I’m struck, stuck in awe all that of
Verses I read, reviewed above
Green with envy no words fulfill
Poetic ink dried in the quill
My phrases mere character spills
It’s making me green in the gills
The more I think the worse it gets
So compelled its giving me sweats
The cure I found so perfectly
Eat green bunches of broccoli
So make me stay and water plants
For my mindless broccoli rants
It’s ok I won’t mind one bit
Rather be doing than just sit
Plus it will make me more hungry
To eat beloved broccoli
No broccoli’s found in the house?
I shall revert to Brussels’ sprouts
Some fried chicken would go quite swell
Heaped potatoes with butter well
Now that I have an appetite
Shall cook them all – to eat tonight
Love this David! 😀
David, all those couplets are gonna make you fat!
lol
But it tasted so good
Yay! So glad somebody tackled broccoli. 🙂 I was just coming over to do just that. Can’t do it more justice than this. Excellent fun, David. 😉
[…] Poetic Bloomings-GOD’S GREEN EARTH – PROMPT #99 […]
Suspended
Too many words have fled,
sped like skipped pebbles.
Glassy surfaces don’t slow stones
and thrown rocks bring ripples-
crests flow outward together
but these don’t seem to hinder
nor do they appear to help
to carry or perpetuate…
Poems escape me
mostly
and then again
they’re launched recklessly
with no time to consider
the joy in the soft round edge
or the imprint of peace in its speckled pattern.
Verses are flung
before I’ve had the chance
to thoughtfully finger the rough angles;
they’re slipped heedlessly to the universal pool
before contemplating the pitch.
All of these heavy laden wordless days
cause me to grope the shore for promises;
I search for just the right stone for skipping
and still, even though I sense this disconnect
I feel I haven’t really had the opportunity
to experience the cool savory weight,
or the shape of perfection
the flawlessness of an unspoken poem
poignant in my palm.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2013
So, this is probably a stretch…I’m feeling “green,” in the poetic realm lately…a shift in artistic expression has me dancing and writing choreography for dances this last week(s)…somehow it feels like a long time since I’ve been steadily writing, (it has only been a few weeks), and any way I’m a little torn. I’m constantly looking for balance it seems and skipping stones into the universal pool must be part of that for me to feel whole and balanced.
This is lovely, Hannah! Your first two lines are absolutely beautiful, and kind of sad. Hope you get back to writing steadily very soon! I love to read your work. ❤
I agree, Erin…I did have to adjust to this new lack of writing but the rest of life will not wait for me so I need to be more present in other realms, too. I become quite addicted to writing and everything else sort of fades into the background if I’m not careful…I simply go through the motions of life waiting for the next chance to write and that doesn’t seem too fair…
I hope you know how much I appreciate your encouragement, Erin, it helps to know that there’s special somebodies out there that enjoy my writing…thank you. ♥
I do know what you mean, and am glad you are putting it on pause for a while (even though I’m sad at the same time). I’m so glad that I’ve been able to encourage you a little! You encourage me with every poem you write, so I’m thankful to be able to give a little back. Hugs to you!! ❤
Beautiful, Sweet Hannah. And dance away!!
Marie Elena
Yes… and hugs to you, Hannah!!
♥ Thank you my friend…I so appreciate you, Marie. ♥
Sweet Robin: The Day We Met
We met today on grass of green
You hopped along; I stopped,
Then slowly tiptoed back away
So not to scare you off.
So sweet, Hen!! Robins are the harbingers of Spring, so it must be here soon. 🙂
Oh, thank you, Erin, it is a very sad time in my life right now… this one wrote itself….
Oh no … I’m so sorry to hear this is a sad time your life, Hen. Such a sweet, kind heart should never know sadness. Hugs …
Meg
Thank you, so much, Meg!!
(Well… it’s been a long while since one woke me up…)
Neptune’s Emerald Waters
Mysterious muse, you come and go
Into my shadows, flow
Like Neptune’s emerald waters you
Soothe my weary soul…
Thinking of the rain in Wales…
Waunfawr
We spent our honeymoon in bed
three endless days, watching the trails
of grey clouds blowing overhead,
because it rains so much in Wales.
This isn’t such a bad thing, though,
we thought…. Indeed, if all else fails,
we’ll keep each other warm, just so –
because it always rains in Wales.
At length, we found the village shop
for food, and air, telling the sales
girl thank you, but we couldn’t stop
because it rains so much in Wales.
We spent our honeymoon in bed,
Because it rains so much in Wales.
(We’ll see if this works… the lines may be too long… ah, well, no matter!)
Bluegrass? In Colorado? Really? But Why?
I hear the grass is greener on the fence’s other side,
But, really, why’s that such an envied thing?
They’ll only have to mow it more, then swallow down their pride
When drought arrives to aim its yearly sting.
I can’t pretend to care that much, nor can I say I’ve tried—
I see how hard they work to keep it looking almost less than fried!
Come. Have some lemonade, and share my swing.