Valentine’s Day Poem: Flowers for My Lady The Society February 14, 2013 Art, Poetry 1 Comment How that florid scent Wafts through your two vents Making all your senses yield To wilderness in a field. How the petals soft Carry you aloft To the clouds above us all, Lightly float and never fall. How the colors beam In a matching scheme, Fine art in a museum Painting over tedium. Yet how flowers fail! Before you they’re pale, My Lady across the earth, Rarest blossom the world hath. -Evan Mantyk NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to mbryant@classicalpoets.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) One Response Bruce Dale Wise February 28, 2013 PEONIES, SHELL, AND COILED CANDLE: AFTER STONE ROBERTS Upon the pale and shiny stonework ledge sits shell, white vase, and beeswax candle coil. Here is a neoclassical-clear edge, a spare, fine atmosphere betrayed in oil. Peony petals drooping, perky too, in yellow, white, red violet, and pink, against the wall, a dark gray, background hue; one wonders how they smell, sweet, light, or stink. The smoothness is disturbed by sharp-shaped conch, the long-line grooves and patterns of the vase, the copper-finished plate and clip ensconced about the sixty-hour candle’s base. A New Dutch Realist has been let loose where once New Amsterdam was in the News. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Bruce Dale Wise February 28, 2013 PEONIES, SHELL, AND COILED CANDLE: AFTER STONE ROBERTS Upon the pale and shiny stonework ledge sits shell, white vase, and beeswax candle coil. Here is a neoclassical-clear edge, a spare, fine atmosphere betrayed in oil. Peony petals drooping, perky too, in yellow, white, red violet, and pink, against the wall, a dark gray, background hue; one wonders how they smell, sweet, light, or stink. The smoothness is disturbed by sharp-shaped conch, the long-line grooves and patterns of the vase, the copper-finished plate and clip ensconced about the sixty-hour candle’s base. A New Dutch Realist has been let loose where once New Amsterdam was in the News. Reply
