Poetry

On the subject of gardens, I was inspired to write the following poem by the beauty of my orange and peach trees which are now in full blossom.  It is a paroy on A.E.Housman's poem, "Loveliest of Trees, the Cherry Now".

Spring's Gift

 By H.E.Wheeler

Orange and peach trees in full bloom

Floral patterns of pink and white

I patiently contemplate until the gloom

When ere the darkness of the night

Cast shadows on nature’s bequest

Of beauty that each living thing

At our Maker’s divine behest

Those things of joy He should bring

And at the breaking of each new day

Still I wonder at His creation

And pay homage in humblest way

That I may exult in admiration

And in the twilight of my years

As I witness each spring season

I shed not distraught tears

That I should die without reason

*********************

This, by A.E.Housman

Lovliest of trees, the cherry now

Is hung with bloom along the bough

And stands about the woodland ride

Wearing white for Eastertide

Now, of my three score years and ten,

Twenty will not come again,

And take from seventy springs a score,

 It only leaves me fifty more.

And since we look at things in bloom

 Fifty springs are little room,

About the woodlands I will go

To see the cherry hung with snow

This I wrote in memory of our visit to Ireland.

Ireland’s Beauty

In Ireland’s land of emerald green

Abundant beauty we have seen

Of thatched cottages in Adare –

Many hours, we spent there.

County Clare, with her rising hills

Seen in sunshine and evening chills

Brought to mind the bygone days

Of harmonious living and carefree ways

Westerly then, to County Kerry

Pleasant hours spent making merry

In quaint hotels and tasteful bars

Stepping out ‘neath Northern stars

Killarney, and its wondrous lakes

Imagination is all it takes

To evoke vivid images rare

Of the splendour surrounding us there

County Cork and ‘blue-flagged’ sands

Where we strolled peacefully, holding hands

As storm clouds gathered overhead

We made haste to enjoy our bed!

G'day, Harry!  I'm SOOO glad you're back.  It seems you had a wonderful trip.  I LOVE these last two poems, esp. Ireland's beauty.  I'm looking forward to more of your lovely verse and maybe a pic or two from your trip?!?

Hope you're feelin good, Harry.  Welcome back!!! 

This poem was written with some one special in mind.

An Ode For One Who Cannot See.

My love, let me stroke your hair
And confirm that you are there –
Let me touch your endearing face
Open, honest, and full of grace
Trace my fingers o’er its contours
That I may know that, it is yours
Allow me then to touch your skin
Your wholesomeness yet, resides within
Draw near, that I may absorb your cologne
That identifies you alone
All these senses tell me you are mine
Your beauty unseen, forever benign
I adore you with compassion
No need to recognize in any other fashion
I need not ever use my eyes
Your tender being, tells no lies
Abstract loveliness you radiate
No other could ever imitate

Thanks, Lyn and Wolf...her's another to amuse you (hopefully)

Failure

It was my intention to write an Ode
Of flowers, the sea, or other things
But when I put my thoughts upon screen
My imagination took another road.

I then decided I'd write an essay
Of things that happened in my long life
However, you would find this simply boring
So I then decided to write a play

On this I failed to make a start -
I wasn’t really into Drama
Or stage performances and the like
So from such thoughts I will depart

As for notions of becoming a Keats, or Shelley
I just didn’t seem to have the gift
For rhyming, stanzas, or quatrains
I, therefore, shall contemplate my belly.

And when I arrive at a final decision

As to what I should or should not write

Whether it be poetry, verse, or prose

No doubt, it'll be met with some derision!