Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Stephan Aug 2016


Crape myrtle blooms form
the entrance now leading
Into the garden of
dreams that we share

Rose buds and hyacinths
tickle our senses
Blending their fragrance
so sweet with the air

Lantana flowers in
yellows of lemon
Paint summer sunrises
along the wall

Hibiscus petals are
raining so softly
Before our eyes as
their beauty does fall

Daffodil dimples now
show as they're smiling
Watching the two of us
learn happily

That since we met we
have found our dream garden
Grows of our love
now a reality
I held up that grand quilt in my tiny hands, thoughts rushing past my mind.

That denim piece splattered with red paint,
ah, remember when you wore that for the first time as you picked carrots with Dad?

That cotton piece filled with a vibrant orange,
how could you forget? That was the dress you wore to your first ever play recital.

That baby pink rayon piece,
you wore that on the first day of high school, you could not forget.

That grey wool piece,
that was your Christmas present, and you wore it near the fire. You spilled hot coco on it.

That rare purple leather,
that is too important to forget. Remember, it was the jacket you wore on you first date.

That blue flannel piece,
you loved that one. You wore it all the time, ever since the first time you wore it when you won “best speaker” at a school competition.

That brown cupro piece,
you wore that to your mother's birthday, the one where she got promoted to L.A.

That green polyester piece,
never can forget, could you? That was the shirt you wore when Dad and Mom divorced.  

That white lyocell piece,
you wore it at your graduation party, and your whole family was there.

That barkcloth piece,
it was a day to remember, you united with you brother once again in that dress.

That calico piece,
you wore that to the hospital when Granddad got a heart attack.

That black and white damask piece,
that was so beautiful, so you kept it for your dinner. Which you hadn't realized was your engagement dinner with your boyfriend.

That red gingham piece,
wow, that was the time you met your dad's girlfriend. And Mom had not moved on.

That black lace piece,
a day never to forget. It was the funeral of your Granddad’s, and that was the dress you wore.

That grey gauze piece,
it was the shawl you wore when you visited your grandma, and found out she was ill of depression.

That amazing white gazar piece,
a memorable day. It was the dress you wore to you wedding.

That turquoise silk piece,
too soon after your wedding. It was the part of the purse you took to your Grandma's funeral. *

That white and blue jacquard fabric,
that was the fabric you had for your curtains, when you moved into your own house.

That leopard print intarsia piece,
it was an amazing day. Your mother visited you the first time in your new home. The both of you cried with the rain pouring outside. Nothing could have ruined that beautiful moment together, united.

That satin cobalt blue piece,
that dress you wore to the dinner with your parents and husband. Only to later realize that you brother had met with an accident.

That exotic lantana piece,
you remember, don't you? You wore that dress when you met your brother days later, severely hurt.

That red lace piece,
you went to London with your husband wearing that. You were so excited.

That madras piece,
it came from that cushion out of the four your husband bought you.

That cream organdy piece,
your mother had found it in her closet, a dress from her mother's, and wanted to give it to you.

That deep purple paisley piece,
you wore that on the day your mother died.*

And like that, all the thoughts came back to me. All the pieces of my past, fit in together. But it never made sense – that was how my life worked. And there were more pieces, more parts, to fit together, until my life was spread out in front of me. Like a patched quilt.
Patches are like memories.
Ignatius Hosiana May 2016
You know you've been away for long when returning feels wrong
when the rough road you left's a beautiful tarmac
and the roadside lantana Kamara's someone's bed of lilacs
you know it's been ages when you feel nostalgia turning pages
when each bend you negotiate brings tears to your eyes
for the skyline's too storied to have a view of the ranges
so that in disappointment you take deep breaths and sighs
you know an eternity has gone by since you set foot there
when the hugs are a doubt for you wonder if folks still care
when the cute little puppy you left is a scabby old *****
and all you can see are graves at the stead to the alleged old witch
you realise time's past when every view matters
so much so that you open your teary eyes without a twitch
when the grass thatched homesteads are tatters
next to mansions trapped betwixt the so called rich
you tell the beautiful generation's gone when you ain't on foot
when soon as you set foot of what was such a lively place
tears of despondence cascade down your alien face
when you don't know where those who survived relocated
but can at least see tombstones in the distance suffocated
by growing bushes, you try to get close but every plant scratches
and you want a closer look much as every **** itches
you know it's been eons when many gather like a scene of crime
for they don't understand you're mourning for lost time
for those who visited the great beyond in your absence
young and the old attempting to speak English, renaissance
you know it's been a while for unlike the days of the old
only the youth show earnest concern, for they're the bold
they who'll try to explain for the elderly the stranger you're
for them old to realise you're one of their own back from a far
you know you've been away for so long when what was a domicile
is just a piece that couldn't be valued due to many a grave
the revelations hurt yet are given in bits for none's that brave
none's brave enough to relay your family's demise in chronology
and luckily someone has a number you can call thanks to technology,
your youngest sister, left a crying baby now married
realising it's you her feelings are an oxymoron
for she obviously sounds nonchalantly worried
and out of words cause you left her nothing but your stolen crayon
you know you've been away for so long when the moment
you so much prayed for turns into a biting torment
for soon as you walk out your car you become a shoulder to cry on
implying that so much has happened while you were away
yet you're too weakened by changes to keep at bay
where are the rest? you can't help but wonder
how a single decade could mean so much plunder
you know you've been away for so long when you have a novel of sorrow
one which reading could consume more than a tomorrow
when you realise you went to the wrong place or right
for you realise you're on your own childhood bed in the night
the then soft spots feeling so hard while you twist and turn
reminding you of the life you've endured whence you couldn't run
you know you've been  away for a while when you can hardly sleep
but you have room to contemplate the gone decade
laugh, wonder, remember but mostly weep
when you wish you had listened when they said
Arabian money wasn't the picture they painted
you know you've been absent when you wish you could rewind
to erase all those grotesque things they made you do
when you want to move the world back to the unwounded you
the one who wasn't sexually abused and ******* tainted
to save you the excruciating and ugly details
you only realise when deafening's the sound of hails
when you loathe rather than treasure the rain
because all it does is remind you of your pain
when you can't stop for yourself feeling sorry
wishing to speak out to the rest yet too ashamed to tell your story
Тадеус Aug 2014
Cosmos, Lantana,
bloom with Coreopsis and
Black-eyed Susan too.
There are many different
beautiful flowers by stream.


*Тадеус
I try Tanka.
© Тадеус 8-28-2014 9:55pm
Все права защищены.
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Spanish bluebells
Lantana flowers
Valencia rose
Scilla hispanica's

All soaking the sun

Yea
Their all from Spain...

The maker of mine dame
Creator of mine chosen one!!!
I dreamt
I was beside
you

We were
on the coast
of Lantana

You got up
dressed
and looked

The ocean
was grey
and calm

The waves
ebbing
slowly

Your stomach
was flat
and shimmered

then
you walked
away

I sat
motionless
and gazed

Visions assault
but my eyelids
were closed

A boat
on the
horizon

A wall
being built
behind me

An old lover
stared at me
from the stars

An impassable
cloud lingered
in my head



Clarity
shone through
the rain

I got up
turned
shocked




The wall
was higher
than me

You were
gone, but
I hear you

I walked
into the sea
arms crossed

A cool breeze
struck me
on the face

My feet hit
the ocean
and curled

It was warm
and turned
into blue

I continued
until I
was submerged
ChinHooi Ng Jun 2023
Watering the plants
is not a meaningless task
crumbs of green in their pots
growing as they please
random yet adamant
i'm a little tired in this
early summer evening
on this 18th floor balcony
they have become my scenery
perhaps not willingly
but i feel natural and fulfilled
the goldenrod
the boat orchids
the spearmint
periwinkle and lantana
i fill a plastic container with water
slowly i imbue it into the
gradually darkening dusk
earlier i was reading some blogs
with lofi music playing on my phone
fresh and fluent
the mood is like opening a door
then another door
the plants enjoy the melody now in stillness
they make no further comments.
Ignatius Hosiana Jun 2015
Only I walk everyday on this street
Cause It's where our story began
Past these sheep as they bleet
Trying to find out whether I can
Live the heavenly moments again
And just forget the end, the pain
Only I knows why I treasure the lantana
I'm remembering my princes Diana
I shut my door cause I know tears'll flow
When I look at the pictures, their glow
Only I knows my watch is in the fridge
I'm clinging on to the point on the bridge
The end of all the beautiful moments
I'm freezing that beautiful ornament
The first you ever bought, if that was true
I can't afford to lose it too like I lost you
To be continued...
Jack Sep 2014
~

Balmy breezes capture me,
though struggle I’ll not feed,
sifting on the glowing rays beyond the heather hedge,
walking barefoot,
senses fly,
lemonade the tint…
born upon this early morning sky

Lantana lullabies,
still a faint offering,
relinquish me of moon fed destinies,
setting me free once more
in the golden sheen of the pristine
sunflower sunrise

Soft, a haze does find me in a sphere of intoxicated dreams
swirling about this blue canopy,
this euphoric frame bordering
the tapestries of nature’s happiness

On this day wings sprout,
gossamer in saffron flow
from shoulders soft and bliss divine,
perfect of a vision I do long
to harbor near

For in my eyes again reflects your beauty
and I touch you…
Your smile finds my heart
as I breath in the majesty of my desires,
thanking the heavens once more
for my blessings
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Rest in torpor
Mi amour
I'll awaketh thou in the morn
Wherein the sun shalt free us
Balladrys we'll be
Coacting with ourn lips
Clove-pinks to essence ourn wayside
Expanse of ourn high regard
Not as the others love
Drinking sorrows to rye and hard
Exonerate me for mine day
Ourn bodies as foliaceous
Don't worry amour
I got the mess from last night's dishes
Foliose ourn quills shalt be
Thou hast gladdened me
To wake another marvelous hour with thou
How doth one do this somehow!?
She's and angel!!!!!
Tis
All I know
Intrant of this intrados
Mine all
Mine most
Mine jute berry
Lantana of mine linterna brightly accumulating
Exhilarating!!!
Lar of ourn humbled abode
Didst thou knowest
That thy heart is mine home
Tis
It is
Tis
Tis
It is!!!!
Thou communicator to God!!!!!
Stephan Aug 2016


I found the sunrise in your eyes,
tiny dew drops in your kiss
Upon bright Lantana skies
on a morning just like this

Now I look within my mind
and the scene I long to see
On this new day that I find
is that you are here with me
butterfly magnets
like full sun and warm weather
lantana flowers
martin challis Oct 2014
The way each hill runs down
The way tree-lines suspend the turbulence

My father’s arms are in these hills
taking timber from the gully

The crest of his hat starts at the waterfall
his toes peep through lantana

His advice trickles into pools from the hollows;
as his boots peeled open, dry before the fire

Lizards bask like heat-curled nails in the sun,
billy smoke whispers its tale through the canopy

Through the slow step of a century
he has turned one-eyed squinting toward the sun

The scrape of sharpening-stone on an ancient scythe
sets my teeth on edge

The whistle to the bullock team calls me back
but it’s too late, my ears have gathered for another harvest

I'm already removed from his wilderness

MChallis © 2005
Patrick Kennon Aug 2019
Under the pretty lights tonight
again and again
Under the canopy, green and screaming
give us rain
Simple beast has found his fragility
incarcerate my soul
A blank spot in the road, driving
manic teleportation
At new station biting at broke ends
good friends lost
Texas late winter frost, gutters breathing
constrict and confuse
The men in silk shoes are climbing the ravines
little shaded souls
So many names forgotten to time
why keep track
Lost sideways in the skylarking way
train track trek
I been and I slept
on to many **** rocks
Brothers lost, like clockwork
fighting overseas, forgotten
I cannot unlive this, unsee
my comrades leave me
like empty pitchers
in the night
morning mourning
Tom Berry Jul 2019
He wasn’t a flower
they were too exquisite. (although he wanted to be, so he could make people sneeze)

                                 He wasn’t a cypress
they were too resilient. (otherwise he would have cracked the concrete)

                                 He was born a ****.
(A yard reckoning wild black mamba)
In the ground, he felt smothered,
digging to a world he never knew.

                                 He was an anomaly
someone who no one desired to water.

                                 He was a problem,
                                 a pest,
                                 something like
                                 Fruit flies in a Florida summer
                                
He was a stain,
                                 a blood smear on an angel white Kleenex.
                                
He was a pain,
                                 a sturdy lump in her kidney the doctor had to explain.

He dug                     through boggy dirt,
                                 carving away.

He dug                     through swampy mud
                                 while the sky hiccupped tears,
                                 constantly, continuously making
                                 a path that he could climb.

He wanted—freedom
                                 a love amongst the elegant lantana.
Inspired by an old friend
A Poet Mar 2022
You forgot,
and yet I wait.
In our home,
with the peach tree that blossoms in the spring,
the lantana that loves its sun,
and the rose that only grows stems.
longing to forget, longing to leave,
but stuck in the same place.
waiting for you.
The sun was at the perfect angle
a flock of white Florida Ibis
were suddenly transformed
into a luminescent amethyst purple
I stood in awe
what a jeweled sight!
a terrific start to
my morning stroll
I walked down shaded streets
I'd named feng shui way
because of their delightful beauty
A group of trees framed
the China blue sky
and a perfectly formed
pukalani eye peered down at me
One particular house
really captured the
spirit of feng shui
several light and airy gourds
swayed and floated in the soft breeze
the mailbox was surrounded
with mandarin orange marigolds
fuscia colored lantana
and periwinkle
ethereal pink trumpet blossoms
resembling Chinese chime bells
rang silently
and the elegant Oriental
garden gates greeted the
passerby with folded palms
My spirits lifted I finished my walk
with bright smiles, grateful smiles
sailing upward towards the
Star Lord of the solar palace

— The End —