chimeonthewind (chimeonthewind) wrote,
chimeonthewind
chimeonthewind

Three poem cause i had to for Literature...
it took me fer freaking EVAR because I kept getting distracted and I haven't writte directed poetry since, like, senior year of high school. blarg!
The first one requires interp... because I used flowers to tell the story. I hope it meets the criteria.
The rhythm one is so short, and it's a rehash of one i did in the summer.
the 'sonnet' I took liberties with. Because it was midnight when I started.
When i said it took me forever, I wasn't kidding XD.


His Garden

When first he came he wanted nothing more than to tend to his yellow roses
Bask in the sunlight
Keep his Baby’s Breath in bloom
His garden was his life.

When she came, white and fair as the first spring lily,
His yellow roses deepened to red
The baby’s breath was replanted with Daisies and Daffodils

But she re-sowed his garden with yellow carnation
Touched his flowers with chill
Wilted them to the ground

Still he refused to give up his garden and re-tilled the land
Marigolds bloomed, and Forget-me-nots followed
And she could not forget
When next his garden was re-sown by her
The Carnations were purple, stripped with white.

When once again he planted his flowers
They came as Lily of the Valley and Cactus
He sat in his Garden; waiting for her to come
And Sow the grass between the buds

When she came offering an Apple and a white Chrysanthemum
He rose and took the apple
Letting the flower fall to the earth, and in its place
Begonia’s grew and flourished

Together, they grew beauty in petals
Anemones, Fleur-de-lis, Poppies
Then White Heather, Holly and Ivy

But it turned into Monkshood and primrose
Suddenly when he jumped the fence to see another garden

Again yellow chrysanthemum’s bloomed in the beds
This time planted by his hand
The red rose grew blackened edges
And Hydrangea flourished in the salt of her tears

Too soon he plucked the rose and sheared it of it’s petals
Leaving her in his garden with naught but blood soaked thorns
And the scent of geraniums on the wind

http://www.clareflorist.co.uk/meanings.asp

Impatience

Sky is Darkened
Lightning striking
Thunder cracks the sky
Here I am
Wistfully watching
Balefully stuck inside

Greatest storm
Since who knows when
Rain that’s badly needed
-But- I'm in class
Battling my Calc
And swiftly being defeated.

Sonnet the First

Through curtains of grayness does the human soul move
A fog that softens sharp edges and makes the devil seem kind
But no matter how much of our reason this deep haze may soothe
We cannot escape that we go through our life swaddled and blind
A light in the grayness hangs before us to taunt
And we reach with cold fingers to grasp at its source
But when it is found it is naught but a haunt
A ghost sent to trick us and dazzle with force
Falling back to the mist we nurse our old pains
Reopened again and again by the consuming all light
We look back on our lives to assess losses and gains
To find our debts all accumulated and our winnings taken flight

But again we will reach for the light with desperate hand
And again it will slip through our fingers like sand
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