Claire V. Bogdanos

POEMS….THOUGHTS…..MEMORIES

IN FLOWER SPEAK ( 2019 ) 2019/04/18

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:34 am
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I look outside, what do I see

A field of violets smiles at me

While over in the corner there

Two lilacs do their blooms compare.

Hydrangeas all like spreading out

They love the space and so they shout

“Hey, look at me, I’m gussied up

My blossoms fill your largest cup !”

Consider all the dandelions

They are the brighest of all kinds

And when they grow close to the ground

They’re the best cover to be found.

I’d like to think that flowers know

How much we love them as they grow

And keep themselves sweet as they can

In tribute to God’s love of man !

 

 

GOD’S RAINBOW COLORS ( 2017 ) 2017/09/29

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 5:17 am
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Blossoms in the garden, how shall we bear their loss

Soon the winds of autumn will all their petals toss

How often in past summers and the springtimes too

That flowers smiled and waved most of each daytime through.

All the fragile magic and all the fragrant smells

Folded in those tiny buds resting in their shells

What would this world look like without the shades of green

Plus God’s rainbow colors and everything between ?

 

 

WHAT IS GREEN ( 2001 ) 2013/04/21

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 1:29 pm
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Wherever you look this world is shaded in green dye

From the forest’s floor clear to a rainbow in the sky,

A verdant place live with the miracle of God’s care

Plush valleys, woodlands and mountains that rise in the air.

What is green? I know that its not these roads that I trod

But the friendly gardens I pass that wave me a nod,

The blazoned grass in the fields and the oak when it’s young,

The trees that cover each grove with their seed as they’re sprung,

Grasshopper’s in flight emitting sounds that echo and hum,

No, not the air that we breathe but the source that it’s from.

 

Green’s my favorite color and the color of pine

Like the stem of each flower and the stalk of each vine,

The crest of each hill that’s burdened with blossoms it blows,

The fruits of the orchard and the tall corn as it grows,

Solemn moss upon a rock that betrays not its age,

A bird’s chorus sung from a branch, the air as its stage.

 

What is green? The deep of the sea, the heart of a palm

The chant of the willow’s sweep like the words of a psalm,

Caterpillars at birth and the new bud of a rose,

The youth of a man, the lid of his grave at its close,

The rigid eyes of a cat while its vigil will keep

In silence watching some prey, seeming lulled into sleep,

And there, like vespers in the wind that scatters  its seeds

Fast being held in the grasp of life’s swift spreading weeds

Tiny sprouts that protrude through the wet earth after rain

Are now promising me hope that the green will remain.

While the green of an emerald possesses great worth,

The best of life’s green is bound to the crust of the earth

Be glad that green’s the one color we cannot replace

It relieves the monotony of blacks, browns, and grays.

 

 
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