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"periwinkles" poems
✿⊰✲⊱✿ At the sound of my name, I see the faces turn and smiles of many friends; Queen Sue of Ruikruya in her lilac silks, Queen Sarita of Khaikar in orange silks, Queen Deb of Daegeral in magenta, Queen Kim of Geniael in creams, Queen Robin of Naeneiana in periwinkles, Queen Fawn of Yuamor in red-violets, Queen Dawn of Khesian in dandelion-orange, Queen Jugnu of Enuryn in jade-greens, Queen Yidna of Puhan in indigos, Queen Cne of Phelyra in turquoise, Queen Xaela of Lonusea in peach, Queen Ayumi of Wadia in tan-gold, Queen Sheila of Naizzuzia in cornflower-blue, Queen Stars of Yurithireatha in green-yellow ✿⊰✲⊱✿ King Edmund and his wife in matching forest-greens attires, King Omni of Khaniel in silvers, King Emeka of Ghalali in white, King Devon of Monait in blue-violets, King Fugue of Thavia in blacks, King Yacov of Igrador in olive-green, King Joseph of Eaqellurene in bronze, King Fredrick of Emirinait in mauve, King Rob of Balan in sea-green, King John of Khesian in melon-red, King Aslam of Ikaesa in deep plum, King Brandon of Huarean in ocher, King Kikodinho of Izugalla in taupe, King Jobira of Zavalon in orange-red and many many more. ✿⊰✲⊱✿ And last but not least, King Paul of Luciuscemi himself in emerald-and-gold. He wears his favourite emerald green jacket with ruby buttons, bright gold embroidery of suns and lions; his sleeves stitched with pearls and rubies to match the red sash across his chest; his trousers black as are his boots, but even they have gold laces.
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Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 6:17 AM UTC
❀❁ тнє gαlα VII (I of II) ❁❀
✿⊰✲⊱✿ At the sound of my name, I see the faces turn and smiles of many friends; Queen Sue of Ruikruya in her lilac silks, Queen Sarita of Khaikar in orange silks, Queen Deb of Daegeral in magenta, Queen Kim of Geniael in creams, Queen Robin of Naeneiana in periwinkles, Queen Fawn of Yuamor in red-violets, Queen Dawn of Khesian in dandelion-orange, Queen Jugnu of Enuryn in jade-greens, Queen Yidna of Puhan in indigos, Queen Cne of Phelyra in turquoise, Queen Xaela of Lonusea in peach, Queen Ayumi of Wadia in tan-gold, Queen Sheila of Naizzuzia in cornflower-blue, Queen Stars of Yurithireatha in green-yellow ✿⊰✲⊱✿ King Edmund and his wife in matching forest-greens attires, King Omni of Khaniel in silvers, King Emeka of Ghalali in white, King Devon of Monait in blue-violets, King Fugue of Thavia in blacks, King Yacov of Igrador in olive-green, King Joseph of Eaqellurene in bronze, King Fredrick of Emirinait in mauve, King Rob of Balan in sea-green, King John of Khesian in melon-red, King Aslam of Ikaesa in deep plum, King Brandon of Huarean in ocher, King Kikodinho of Izugalla in taupe, King Jobira of Zavalon in orange-red and many many more. ✿⊰✲⊱✿ And last but not least, King Paul of Luciuscemi himself in emerald-and-gold. He wears his favourite emerald green jacket with ruby buttons, bright gold embroidery of suns and lions; his sleeves stitched with pearls and rubies to match the red sash across his chest; his trousers black as are his boots, but even they have gold laces.
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44
The sun shines upon the trees With its warm red glow And the sunrays shine upon the trees Where birds perch in the branches and sing Where flowers secretly unfurl their soft petals and sweetness Where bluebells grow and cover the ground In purplish-blue Where the sky is forever sapphire blue Where the violets and moss grow Where the breezes dance and caress my fair cheeks Where periwinkles bloom And peach blossoms unfurl their petals And lift up their heads And feel the warm sunshine on their pink cheeks And where Fairies dance and waltz At nighttime when Night wears her dark Majestic gown of celestial beauty Where the Fairies dance And play Enchanted instruments Like the harp Which brings forth its nocturnal melodies That dance upon the air Which is perfumed with dazzling flowers That bloom at Night Where mist lingers in the sky And sunrays dance upon its Beautiful path Where sunsets greet the west And where sunrises say hello to Dawn And where Dusk settles bringing The dancing Fairies That hush the world to sleep With their sweet lullabies ~Marian~
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Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
In The Woods
The houses are haunted By white night-gowns. None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings, Or yellow with blue rings. None of them are strange, With socks of lace And beaded ceintures. People are not going To dream of baboons and periwinkles. Only, here and there, an old sailor, Drunk and asleep in his boots, Catches tigers In red weather.
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4.1k
Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock
an anthracite & brown mass undulating seagulls' lost cries & the summertime fishermen are gone & you no longer wear that red dress, Carmen sifting through ***** Sea foam for periwinkles & pecten raveneli* no longer barefoot on the Beach & a child no longer asks for ice cream the trees,  rabid in their colors, age creeps in with the increasing litter & the stars shine coldly now & the wind is picking up the drifting remains of love & packing them away until Christmas
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Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
October Seaside
. flowers bloom in our heart i bloom eternal tulips but in You, only periwinkles can grow
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Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 10:07 PM UTC
hanahaki
No ode for you, periwinkles No exalted verse or prose No lover's gift you will be Unlike the regal rose Not placed in summer bouquets In vases - never seen Nor gracing dark tresses Nor found in floats of dreams Yet sweet you are to me Happy in blue and white With your merry little faces Like fairies and lithe sprites.
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Mar 12, 2024
Mar 12, 2024 at 1:07 PM UTC
Periwinkles
There is a plot of land near my home which once housed an abundance of flora and fauna. Turtles, birds, rabbits, snakes, wild dogfennel, pines, periwinkles, alamandas and southern river sage thrived in this space which now boasts only an open plot of beige mounds, cement cylinders, and monstrous machines. I grimace at its "progress" daily. Across the street, a large patch of wildflowers sit up and gaze upon this scene. Day after day, Erupting from the blue-eyed grass, A family of spanish needle and Mexican petunias turn their blooms toward the beeping and the clunking of machines. White peacock butterflies and red-tipped dragonflies dance around the feeding bees. I'd like to be like the flowers. To bloom rebelliously in the face of greed and destruction. Even though soon, they will be gone too.
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Sep 23, 2022
Sep 23, 2022 at 4:14 PM UTC
Flowers, my teacher
Yes, we shall walk through ferns as tall as our waist And step over the beige colored mushrooms We'll sit down and dream beside the creek And let the melody of a cello and harp duet Refresh us and give us strength anew We'll live inside that old-fashioned home With lovely wallpaper in nearly every room We'll sit down together on the comfortable window seat Overlooking the dreamy farm with tall, tall grass And rustic fences here and there in those verdant pastures We can sip cold Dr. Pepper on the privacy of our verandah Enjoying the silence together--me and you We'll stroll through gardens full of iris blooms Take walks down our flowering cherry tree lane Walk inside the beautiful forest with wild honeysuckle vines And periwinkles carpeting the forest floor Yes, we'll wander aimlessly all day Maybe walk a few dogs and ride some horses This is our dream that may never come true But we'll keep on wishing for it--me and you ~Marian~
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Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
Our Dream Come True
Summertime awakens the redolent flowers It brings to life again the day Rebirth of the stars Raindrops become my healing balm And thunder my elixir Demure fawns gallop gracefully Across the woodland’s fallen trees And the sky is arrayed In cloaks of fragrant mist The forest’s familiar scent of petrichor Fills the moss laden air And hidden periwinkles glisten with dewdrops Sweet summertime has returned once more Her usual fugacious beauty ~Marian~
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
Sweet Summertime
Tall Trees Reach Up To Touch The Sapphire Sky Red Dirt Paths Accent Nicely With Green Grass And Nodding Ferns All's Tranquil And Peaceful In The Beautiful Forest Sun Rays Slant Their Rich, Warm, Honeyed Light Across The Dirt Paths Winding Here And There Spring Beauties Grow Beside The Path Washed With Rain Their Blue Petals Sweetly Scented Japanese Irises Unfurl Their Blooms Towards The Sky In The Forest Everything Is Quiet And Calm It Heals Your Wounds And Brings Peace To Your Soul Further On As We Walk Mist Fills The Air All Around Inside The Forest And All Around The Rich Red Path A Hushed Spot Of Lavender Grows Quietly Almost Without Being Seen Periwinkles Refreshed With Dew Awakes To The Bright Blue Sky And Twirling Mist And Everything Is Beautiful And Green We Walk Hand And Hand Unseen Amidst The Pines And Dazzling Furs We Smile And Our Eyes Dance For We Are The Fairies Who Will Forever Live In The Forest ~Marian~
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
In The Forest
Before my eyes, The sea stretches far; An infinite scroll of chiffon Rolling and unrolling In shades of green and sapphire In its sedate hours of brooding silence A calm expanse with feeble waves As if seized by an uncanny lassitude Lying in majesty Swirling in ecstasy Within this mammoth silver submarine, How many mysterious live forms thrive! What curious shaped corals, what all sea urchins! What wealth of fish, what gigantic mammals! Between the blue sky above And the blue sea below I see seagulls fly, The long beaked pelicans prey, Grampuses heaving their huge form Above the calm surface And the milky spray Tossing shiny pearls Upon the stretching naked strands I can see a distant sail And the hull of a ship Gliding over undulating waves Leaving a frothy trail of foam behind With water churning and spiraling around Where sharks and seals and dolphins swim Piles of silver clouds move above And the golden sands stretch below With periwinkles, ***** and shells Scattered by the receding waves Splashing tides, dancing weeds Rising crescendo, falling rhythm Oh! What a splendid scene In the rosy gleam of this evening! What delectable mélange Of tinkling sensory delights!
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May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 6:14 AM UTC
The Unrolling Expanse
Oh honey child! Whither are you going? Your wedding cakes are on the hearth Thither they are glowing.        People are coming To bless you For your bliss ahead Oh honey child! Whither are you going? Your wedding gown Decked up with The chicest of jewels Waits in silence To witness As your accompaniment The storm of joy Of merriment And good hope Oh honey child! Whither are you going? The honey bride says I know not what calls me To the nature's lap The woods So dense and deep Periwinkles and wild roses Daisies and vivid poses Of the sceneries Of Mother nature Oh mother I know not My feet are chasing Someone unknown Oh honey child Marriage is bliss Why do you face away And give Your life's fortunes A 'sad' miss? The master groom comes Lay your hands on his Exchange the garlands Of love and life's vows Find your way Merrily with his Oh honey child Handsomely would he come And take you For he is your loving bridegroom Honey child'honey child! Whither are you going? The spirits of joy The scent of Blissful solitude And beautiful happiness The song Of the koil scented Riverbank And the unknown Merry wilderness Calls me O mother Not will I stay I will go.....
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Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 1:21 AM UTC
oh honey child!
Fowl meadow grass - Glyceria striata - the striations on the lemma. Drooping rachis a weeping willow of a grass. Recurring periwinkles, myrtle, Vinca. Helicopter petals. Evergreen leaves. Escaped from gardens, alien or native? A little further by the spruce stand a new mustard, cuckoo flower - Cardamine - with pinnately compound leaves. What a find! A good day turns bad. After you've died, one of them dogs digs up your grave. You may sit in the rain and think. Maiden pink. The dark circle inside the flower a g-string or garter. O to fail well. To lay low. To live long. To run slow. Feel the hill. Pressing down. Do less. Until one thing's done well.
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
To Fail Well
The sound of bees in a tree Making their honey Dripping and sweet The song of birds The sound of the clear gurgling lake Little fishes darting in and out Bears hidden in that beautiful forest Resting in the shade Butterflies without a care Dancing lazily on the breeze Which caresses my sweaty face The smell of honeysuckles Leaves me breathing in The heavenly smells of Summer Smells of rain Drifts through hot afternoon Indicates a thunderstorm A path of periwinkles Leads me to a world Too beautiful to be true A world that takes my breath away Little peach blossoms opening Their sweet pink petals Their softness reflecting The shade of cotton candy clouds When the sun sets or rises It's just a lovely Summer Day Yet words cannot describe How beautiful it is ~Marian~
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May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
A Summer Day
Memories like faded Monet’s windswept pastels and periwinkles permeate into one hour. The Blue Hour... the hour lost in the world of egg yolks Pirouetting the equator line that divides the latitude that lusted for the sun, the stars, the cobalt sky. with solace it longed to be departed from The milk washed violet dreams where vigor seeks a meteoric silence that ushered Azure rays igniting light that cracks behind the clouds beaming whispers of secrets unveiling echoes of Gymnopedie No.1 As it dances in the breeze The wind doused by the rhythm of the pulsating waves by the indigo shore Deafens my senses Deafens me Deafens my world.
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Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
L'heure Bleue
Candy floss and a visit to the arcade: That's all it took to bring things back an hour to the moment before a missed step. Panic, pandemonium, a parallel universe is what I came to; Landed, rag-dolled on a weather-worn, rice field imitation rock. What I would give to see myself From the edge. To see the angles my body chose while I was away bringing my dearest to my side. First I collected my sister with a scream that belongs Only in stories that deal with grief: Guttural. Come to think of it, that acrid ancestral call didn't belong to me. I wasn't the one who pricked her from her periwinkles And guided her over the barnacles to become a silhouette. It wasn't me who dragged the adrenaline-fueled arms and legs of an undressed, distressed father from his bed, through the Haze of his own thoughts: a descent he wont soon forget. I wasn't there. The things I describe are born of a situation I have spent fifteen years rebuilding; I'm ashamed to say I missed it. I never felt the chaotic shift of the wind and was never   able to expect the worst because I was too enthralled with her face. It was my sole focus as I lay down. I watched intently - in slow motion - distortion explode into her cheeks, tearing her mouth to the seams; scared eyes enveloping lids and unwavering, taking me all in.   I have no doubt she remembers the moment as well as i do, Probably more so, for she experienced the backwash. She was certainly shown the quickest way down. I remember that it was beautiful that day: A real Irish-sunburn peak in Liscannor Bay. I also remember walking down the garden To the cliff stenciled on the back of my hand with the cheerful arrogance only an eight year old can get away with.
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Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
Retracing Steps
Candy floss and a visit to the arcade: That's all it took to bring things back an hour to the moment before a missed step. Panic, pandemonium, a parallel universe is what I came to; Landed, rag-dolled on a weather-worn, rice field imitation rock. What I would give to see myself From the edge. To see the angles my body chose while I was away bringing my dearest to my side. First I collected my sister with a scream that belongs Only in stories that deal with grief: Guttural. Come to think of it, that acrid ancestral call didn't belong to me. I wasn't the one who pricked her from her periwinkles And guided her over the barnacles to become a silhouette. It wasn't me who dragged the adrenaline-fueled arms and legs of an undressed, distressed father from his bed, through the Haze of his own thoughts: a descent he wont soon forget. I wasn't there. The things I describe are born of a situation I have spent fifteen years rebuilding; I'm ashamed to say I missed it. I never felt the chaotic shift of the wind and was never   able to expect the worst because I was too enthralled with her face. It was my sole focus as I lay down. I watched intently - in slow motion - distortion explode into her cheeks, tearing her mouth to the seams; scared eyes enveloping lids and unwavering, taking me all in.   I have no doubt she remembers the moment as well as i do, Probably more so, for she experienced the backwash. She was certainly shown the quickest way down. I remember that it was beautiful that day: A real Irish-sunburn peak in Liscannor Bay. I also remember walking down the garden To the cliff stenciled on the back of my hand with the cheerful arrogance only an eight year old can get away with.
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33
Pink Periwinkles waving along Various birds singing together Amidst cool breeze Under shadows of a palm tree Listening in the garden of my home Peace, solitude. Oh, what a blissful life.
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Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 12:59 AM UTC
Breakfast with Vivaldi's A Rain of Tears
let the mice tinker with the tall clock with the crystal face and line up the shots of brandy and crisp air. harried by gnats and periwinkles. click your heels then stroll the damage parlors of your savage days. and mark the night a blessed pandemonium that features an appearance of a meaning to it all with all the candor of an imaginary sage and a vow of silence.
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Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 9:53 PM UTC
Tilt Your Head
Rosy mists breaks skies Dawn is painting the new day Periwinkles sway Smooth, glassy ponds Sunrise flares sweet spokes of light Noble groves of trees Koi fish glide smoothly Glimmer through seaweed like pearls Their eyes shine with joy A tree dew drop falls Kiss the pool and forms dimples Near to far rose shades
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Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC
Lucid
I sit on the rocks watching the water splash against them, missing my feet by an inch or two. The small shells stuck to the rock motionless unlike the tide. I gently pull one off and hum to it. It partially reveals itself and I smile throwing it back into the sea wondering where it goes now.
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 4:53 PM UTC
Periwinkles
They always say the same things - the script and the show “Let’s fall in love over a fancy dinner and stories of travelling the seas.” “Take control of my car stereo play whatever you love.” “I did three thousand pushups in three minutes, darling, feel my biceps.” Same faces, same words, same places, same stories. Heard it all before. But maybe - if we’re able to cry all night on the other’s shoulder, for no reason, or a hundred reasons. If we can scream out the moments we felt small felt guilt, felt shame, felt fear, felt agony. If your long paragraph meets mine and we don’t flinch. Just hold. Just stay. If we can dance, inebriated, with arms so entwined we forget whose hand is yours and whose is mine. If we lose track of time - in silence, in words, in laughter. Let love bloom in a secret garden of periwinkles and petunias but also in the mud, the mould, the stains of regret and wishful thinking. Let it exist in nightmares and dreamless nights. Not perfect. But present. Something different. Something more.
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Aug 8, 2025
Aug 8, 2025 at 11:49 PM UTC
Jazz and Love
blossomed periwinkles with hues of rose beneath the silver veil and atop the emerald diamonds danced with the zephyr for the dead silence paiting the coals of darkness
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Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
REMNANTS OF SUMMER
#* Like periwinkle blooms Bright and upright Glossy white Anew the day Happy New Year Love and peace* 🍃🍃
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Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 1:57 PM UTC
Periwinkles