"lantana" poems
*
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*
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC
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.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
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
Jan 26, 2010
Jan 26, 2010 at 12:04 PM UTC
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!!!
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 9:38 AM UTC
*Cosmos, Lantana,
bloom with Coreopsis and
Black-eyed Susan too.
There are many different
beautiful flowers by stream.*
Тадеус
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
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.
Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023 at 7:02 AM UTC
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!!!!!
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
*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*
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 6:26 AM UTC
~
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
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
*
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*
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 8:41 AM UTC
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
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
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.
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 4:50 PM UTC