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Viki More Feb 2016
Royal Poinciana, the only bliss in the summer!



The stream swiftly flows,

And the livid wind blows,

As many a red bloom throws.



Royal Poinciana, the crimson bud,

Tender sparkling of the red blood;



Like an orangey blazing flame,

And saffron color in precious gem;



Deeply dyed in the rich glow,

Royal Poinciana, the only hallow.



Oh this shiny summer afternoon makes ill,

Watching Royal Poinciana is a mere will.



Soon ruddy blossom would appeal,

In florid color, my eyes would fill.
Nature, Summer, spring, royal poinciana
Jim Davis  Apr 2017
Touching
Jim Davis Apr 2017
In the last
three decades,
after we became one,
I touched
amazingly beautiful things,
horribly ugly things,  
unbelievably wondrous things

I touched nature's majesty;
hued walls of the Grand Canyon,              
crusty bark of the
Redwoods and Sequoias,
live corals of the
Great Barrier Reef,
dreamlike sandstone of the Wave

I touched magical and strange;
platypus, koalas and
kangaroos Down Under,
underwater alkali flies and
lacustrine tufa at Mono Lake,
astral glowing worms
in the Kawiti caves

I touched holy places;
Christianity's oldest churches,
the Pope's home in the Vatican,
Hindu and Sikh temples and
Moslem mosques in India,
Anasazi's kivas of Chaco canyon,
Aboriginal rocks of Uluru and Kata Tjuta

I touched glimmers of civilization;
uncovered roads of Pompeii,
fighting arenas of Rome,
terra cotta armies of Xian,
sharp stone points of the Apache,
pottery shards from the Navajo,
petroglyphs by the Jornada Mogollon

I touched fantastical things;
winds blowing on the
steppes of Patagonia,,
playas and craters of Death Valley,  
high peaks of the Continental Divide,
blazing white sands of the  
Land of Enchantment

I touched icons of liberty
and freedom;
the defended Alamo,
a fissured Liberty Bell,
an embracing Statue of Liberty,
the harbor of Checkpoints
Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie

I touched glorious things
made by man;
the monstrous Hoover Dam,
an exquisite Eiffel tower,
a soaring St Louis Arch,
an Art deco Empire State Building,
the sublime Golden Gate Bridge

I touched sparks from history;
the running path of an
Olympic flame just off Bourbon,
the last steps of Mohandas Ghandi
at Birla House before Godse,
******'s Eagle's nest and the
grounds over Der Führerbunker

I touched walls of power;
enclosed rings of the Pentagon,
steep steps of the
Great Wall of China,
untried bastions of
Peter and Paul's fortress,
fitted boulders of Machu Picchu

I touched strong hands;
of those conquering
Rommel's and ******'s hordes,
of cold warriors of
Chosin Reservoir,  
of forgotten soldiers of Vietnam,
of terrorist killers of today

I touched memories of war;
the somber Vietnam memorial,
the glorious Iwo Jima statue,
the cold slabs at Arlington,
the buried tomb of USS Arizonians,
Volgograd's Mother Russia  

I touched ugly things;
shreds of light in
Port Arthur's prison,
horrible smelly dust
in the streets from 9/11,
ash impregnated dirt
in the pits at Auschwitz

I touched oppressed freedom;
open ****** plazas
of Tiananmen Square,
smooth pipe and concrete
of the Berlin Wall,  
tall red brick walls
of the Moscow Kremlin

I touched constrained freedom;
heavy ankle and
wrist slave chains
in the South,
little windows
in Berlin's Stasi prison,
haunted cells in Alcatraz  

I touched remnants of madness;
wire and ovens of Auschwitz,
stacked chimneys and
wooden bunks of Birkenau,        
Ravensbruck, and Dachau,
the tomb of Lenin,
toppled Stalins

I touched hands of survivors;
of Leningrad's siege,
of German POWs and
of Russian fighters
of Stalingrad's battle,
of Cancer's scourges  

I touched grand things;
deep waters of the Pacific and Atlantic,
blue hills of Appalachia,
towering peaks of the Rockies,
high falls of Yosemite Valley,
bursting geysers of Yellowstone,
crashing glaciers of Antarctica and Alaska    

I touched times of adventure;
abseiling and zipping in Costa Rica,
packing Pecos wilds and Padre isles,
flying nap of earth Hueys to Meridian,
breaking arms in JRTC's box,
fighting Abu Sayyaf, and Jemaah
Islami in Zamboanga City

I touched through you;
wet sand beaches of  Mexico and Jamaica,
mysterious energy of the monoliths of Stonehenge,
rarefied air in front of the
Louvre's Mona Lisa,
ancient wonders of Giza,
Egypt's tombs and pyramids

We shared soft touches;
drifting in Bora Bora's
surreal waters,
joining hands camel trekking the
Outback's dry sands,
strolling along Tasmania's
eucalyptus forest trails

basking in swinging hammocks
under Fiji's bright sun,
scrambling in
Las Vegas' glittering and
red rock canyons,
kissing under the
Taj Mahal's symphony of arches

We shared touching deep waters;
propelled in gondolas
through the city of canals,
Drifting atop Uru cat boats on Lake Titticaca,
Swooping in jet boats
up a wild river in Talkeetna

Racing in speed boats
around Sydney's great harbour,
skimming in pangas in Puerto Ayora,
paddling the Kennebec for
East's best petroglyphs,
cruising Salzbergwerk's underwater lake

We touched scrumptious things;
Beignets and chicory coffee at DuMonde's in the Big Easy,
Hot *** with sesame sauce
in the walled city of Xian,
Peking duck, dimsum, scorpions,
snake and starfish on Wangfujing Snack Street

We touched delicious things
Crawfish heads and tails at JuJu's shack
and ten years at Jeanette's,
Langoustine at Poinciana's, Fjöruborðinus and Galapagos,
Cream cheese and loch bagels
at Ess-a' s in the Big Apple

I touched your hand riding;
hang loose waves of Waikiki,
a big green bus in Denali's awesomeness,
clip clopping carriages of Vienna, Paris,
Prague, New Orleans, Krakow,
Quebec City, and Zakopane,
the acapella sugar train of St Kitts

We shared touching on paths;
the highway 1 of Big Sur,
the Road of the Great Ocean,
the bahn to Buda and Pest,
the path to the North of Maine,
the trail of the Hoh rainforest,
and time after time, the way home

Yet,
I could spend
the next three decades,
in simple bliss,
having need for
touching nothing,
other than you!

©  2016 Jim Davis
A poem I wrote last year for my wife!  Posted now since it matches the HP' theme for today - "Places"
exotic orange blooms
they're Hawaiian landscape trees
poinciana trees
Chandra S Jan 2020
She was a spectacular tree.
People called her the flame of the forest,
for she was obviously striking, vivid and classy.

I need not narrate the superlative majesty
of the flame – tree, for one time or the other
we have all been breath-taken by her peerless glamor.

What matchless artistry!

I am here to quickly share
my ruminative gloom for that lovely assembly
of flower, leaf and wood, which grandly stood
in a grove of possibilities, and possibilities can be
such a torment, such a calamity.



For years galore, caterpillars of choices
had been steadily eating away at her core.
They came from different directions,
at different trajectories,
with varied objectives
and fluctuating proclivities.

Sometimes, they came rushing in as family,
and sometimes they came slowly,
a little formally, a bit watchfully,
somewhat officially.

At times they came in fiery fascination
and yet, ever so often, they were charged
with marauding indignation.

Many times they arrived as blazing ambition,
but more often than not, combusted the flamboyance
leaving behind an ashen illusion.

Oh.....those craving larvae
of oblique, wily opportunities.



The foliage was feverishly guzzled
till photosynthesis was no more possible.
From my distant window from where I had once
watched her variegated flair,
I felt the Poinciana moan in simmering despair.



With biting sensitivity, I still look on, a tad tearfully,
as she continues to tumble into conscious torpidity.

My words may slip and sway, as with each wilting leaf
after each withering floret, she progresses towards
an abject decay;
imploding methodically, and transposing gradually
from being the flame of the forest
to being a sprouting forest of flames.
Kay-Ann  Aug 2019
Woman, Wound
Kay-Ann Aug 2019
I am chasing this thing that
always
eludes me. In the day he openly
embraces Man.
See, they’ve known each other for centuries,
shoulder to shoulder,
unrelenting hand in unrelenting hand
as they dance betwixt the world of fantasy and pain.
A universe I know all too well.
A courtesy we could never have.

Matta still in my eyes, limbs sore from just being born,
naivete radiating from my skin.
I trail, inquire, plead—
he laughs in my face before evaporating
observe.

I have a plan.

I could forfeit my mind, let ambition and sense
seethe through my temples. Knees the color of
my behind from crawling through the mud.
Pungent fertilizer gathering underneath my nails
as I plant hibiscus, mint and poinciana in a Man’s
garden. My body falling apart and together at the
calloused hands of my oppressor.

There must be another way.

I turned to the sky,
they know us Women well.

Every thirty moons, I offer up a sacrifice.
Take this crimson sea between my anchors
that Mother ordained.
Take it and give us strength.

He eludes me still.

I fight and I protest
and I bawl and I break down
and I stand up and I smile
and I make love to anyone capable of loving.
I am still searching.
Tactile, hard and brown like an egg’s shell
you can’t see this soft, permeable mass
yet it lives, survives.
*But the chase is over.
Hakikur Rahman Feb 2021
Spanish cherry has erupted in the garden today
There are more flowering of unknown flowers.
Nyctanthes, China rose, Jasmine, Bela
With them the north wind is playing there.

Tuberose, queen of the night
They are known for their fragrance.
Yellow marigold and sunflower
They look so blessed.

In the shadow of Royal Poinciana
Summer sunshine falls.
Champaks, roses and gardenia
Keep the garden decorated.

Flowers blossom throughout the year
Let us see them with all eyes open.
Nargis Parveen  Jul 2019
O Sunboy
Nargis Parveen Jul 2019
You are my sunboy!
Sweet autumn morning light,
Touch my sleepless eyes' dew white.

Suppose, I am your mirror,
See your image in my mind,
And forget all relations left behind.

Let's go to an unknown world,
There no one will tell we are not matching,
Only two will express our Love through chirping.

Let me abandon grief of heart;
I will entangle you as golden happiness,
All the day I will busk in your sun rays.

I will be royal poinciana at hot noon,
In your summer sunshine I will burn,
From blue pain to yellow joys I will turn.
Nargis Parveen Aug 2019
O nor'wester! sweep away sweep away just,
All my hidden pains of past,
Sobs and sighs shouldn't any more last.

Royal poinciana is smiling in red,
Why am I feeling like lying on sick bed?
Let me be stormy and dread.

Look! this nor'wester has no pretension,
He is pure burning in sun sensation,
Has no secret trap or illusion.

O nor'wester! please restore my real being,
Let me dance like wind whirling,
Let beauty dazzle like revolutionary uprising.

So long this mind is empty,
A dais there is adorned with fabulous beauty,
Please give me flowers revolutionary red mighty.

Come come brush of red deep,
O blue past! don't peep,
Come shiny dawn! I won't weep.
Nargis Parveen Aug 2019
Hey handsome pal!
Come, I will give you immigration in my mind violating rules all.

So long you remained silent,
See, I planted happy trees for you having sweet scent.

Me, the poet is highly fond of dream,
I keep happiness hidden showing outward grievous scream.

Look at sky up above,
In the twinkling stars how brightly smiles my love!

Touching face, happiness said,
Spring has fallen in love with my brown braid.

South breeze has left his eating and showering,
A love so powerful is rushing after breaking binding.

What do you want, dear?
Forget my painful past and let's cheer.

Royal poinciana tells spreading its bower,
"Are you poet the perennial flower?"

Who is standing infront covering his eyes?
A strange love is making me fly in the skies.

Will you dive? I am a water fairy everflowing,
I came from high mountains to make your plain land green glowing.

— The End —