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Literature Text
An orange-red flower
Made of rusty iron wire,
So warm with sunlight
Even seasoned hummingbirds
Believe my art is alive.
Made of rusty iron wire,
So warm with sunlight
Even seasoned hummingbirds
Believe my art is alive.
Literature
Gathering
(a Sonnet)
He fills both hair and arms to glory her
With all the flowers lavender and blue.
Draws scent to waiting nostrils blossoms' stir
That seems to match the tremor of their hue.
He shakes the dewdrops all until they're gone,
To rain upon her eyes and lips between.
She so adores the muted light of dawn
That keeps the colors of her buds pristine.
The other colors of this pallet bring
A daisy wheel of yellow, red and peach,
To give to her a rainbow arc of spring,
And give to him her love within his reach;
In future parting seasons, colors fade,
Their scent, however, never dies away.
Literature
manhattan light
this city doesn’t need stars, you say
we are guided by these skyscrapers
these hungry office buildings
these lonely crowded apartments—
there are wires on rooftops
and under concrete
that force the cosmos to work for us,
to illuminate our skylines.
we don’t need the stars, the moon
and as your hand grabs the nearest lamppost
i see manhattan light up beneath your eyelashes
and for the first time
i see you perfectly
Literature
An Ode to Summer
Dandelion clouds set in
mango skies
scattered softly
above
golden fields
summer draws
her last breaths
Autumn swirls-in
on a whisper.
crystal eyes blue
in the face of
the mighty
Heavens.
A wardrobe, fair;
crimson, yellow
orange, brown
a tinge of
royal purple.
Arctic blasts
rules the nights
White breath
painted air...
Transitioning
browned
filigree leaves
spiraling down
upon hoary
frost.
Glistening...
catch-ing
the moonlight
swirling white skirts,
raised high;
Let down softly
over the towns
A hushing
lullaby;
inhaling, any
colors that remain
icy breath
crisp,
in their stead;
settling in
for a long nap
upon cold
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Written by Frank Jaspers.
A Tanka about a wire sculpture of a sunflower.
A Tanka about a wire sculpture of a sunflower.
© 2016 - 2024 Frank-Jaspers
Comments8
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Sunflowers are my favorite flower. They always have been. I love how they're vibrant and always sway in the wind. I can understand why people would want to make art about them.
My favorite thing about this particular poem (besides the whole poem itself) is your imagery. I know I say this about a lot of your poems (mostly because you're so good at it) but the way you describe things is beautiful.
'Even seasoned hummingbirds
Believe my art is alive'
I love it! Keep up the good work.
My favorite thing about this particular poem (besides the whole poem itself) is your imagery. I know I say this about a lot of your poems (mostly because you're so good at it) but the way you describe things is beautiful.
'Even seasoned hummingbirds
Believe my art is alive'
I love it! Keep up the good work.