She Is the Sweetest thing
WithIn The Evening VineYards
And Moonlight,
My Love Shall Caress her
Like Song And Candlelight
Through the Midnights

Our Love Shall Be
Every Rose that Exquisitely Sighs
WithIn
The Moonlit Waterfalls

Our Loves Gaze
And Sweet Caress
Shall Soothe The Midnight Stars
Tenderly Ablaze
For Starry Nights and Sunflower days

Reynaldo Casison

With the Jazz Stillness,
We Journey to the Rose Sway
Of Your Iris Beauty And Love
Golden Moon
Luminous honey
Stars are Sparkling Heavenly Sweet
In The Crescent glow
Of Evening Sky
Pretty in the Moonlight
Roses Shall Dream
And Sigh With Our Love
Cherry blossom ladies
Lounge with the Carefree
Sunflowers Mirth
Within the Exotic VineYards
And
Upon the Maple green Earth

Reynaldo Casison

Oh Vincent
whatever did you do
ripening fields of summer corn
and sunflowers of a brilliant hue
a shade no other eyes could see
except for God and you

Reverberation:
The pilgrim's corn. It is illuminated by the Harvest Moon.

A reverberation:
What old Palmer saw when he drew his pilgrim cooling in the warmth of a circular Sun, in the early light of the Sun.

Reverberation:
The industrial fields— they swell— where, once, the Harvest Moon hung— amber— like the swell of the midday Sun.

Samurai blade!
Swing!
The Moon cuts the Sun in two. Inside we see the rings of the Sun.
God drew these rings with his steady hand, for his art is soft and tender.

"Good day, Sir (or be it the night?). I work the Harvest. At this present moment I am resting in the heat of the midday Sun. You may use my body as a sundial, for my shadow keeps pace with the steps of the Sun.”

And, as the old worker of the Harvest settled down, he looked up, in meditation, and he saw Blake's sun-flower— golden!— keeping pace with the steps of the Sun.

The sunflowers are in full bloom as we see
scattered borders crossed over with bomb filled broken dreams

Now, stop and think
We may never hear the raindrops fall again, while the lost children lead us through the scorched fields with their soft spoken pleas

Their desperate sighs rise from across the airwaves left depleted in uncertain scriptures, the forces pull back and a shattered town breathes

The sunflowers are in full bloom surrounded by visions etched in our minds of destruction and death dissolved

Now, stop and think
Sitting on burned out rooftops, we see the tortured fog of war covering up the lifeless soldiers that tatter the streets below, no more bombs or sirens blaring
One confused soldier yells, "Why are we here?!!!"

The sunflowers are in full bloom negotiating through peaceful serenity, identities clashing with unrestrained intensity

Now, stop and think
Open your eyes in the time of a desperate calling, unite as one and let the sunflowers continue to grow wild and free

Sow good seeds,
They'll bloom blossoms of love,
Add some good deeds,
Invite the sun from up above...
to rise up within you,
So you shall shine with rays of kindness,

You have to **** the weeds,
                                        and
stay away from the snakes,
for you
                                        and
your garden's sake...

Tulips, zinnias, petunias, sunflowers
                                        and
peonies too,
how wonderful for you!

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                     A December Sunflower but No Cigar

While walking in the garden, thinking about things
And wishing I had a cigar, I saw a sunflower
A volunteer, a brave young volunteer
From late summer’s glorious display

Most everything around it was brown and down
Except for a few tiny timid weeds
Some withering blades of tenacious grass
And a few scruffy zinnias along the fence

In January’s frosts it will disappear
But for now, the little sunflower - and we - are here

I can sense you
in every sunflower-
in the scent of every petal,
the sweetness of the pollen
and the colour and light
you radiate.