Pantoum Poems
Yellow Day
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Golden blooms lined each side of the highway,
For the exotic places had long been calling.
At last the day came to put those cares away!
You must seize the moment as time is crawling.
For the exotic places had long been calling;
And there was sunshine and gaiety in my heart!
You must seize the moment as time is crawling,
Like daffodils at springtime blooming's start.
......
Floral Paths of Summer
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Flowery paths wildly intersect rich, late summer;
While beautiful flute music plays in green trees,
Amidst song so rife, without drumrolls of thunder.
In butterscotch ease, drift humming, honeybees.
While beautiful flute music plays in green trees;
The exotic blooms send pleasant fumes, far away.
In butterscotch ease, drift humming, honeybees;
With huge, tossed hibiscuses, in crimson disarray.
......
Evening Harmony
by Charles Baudelaire
The hour has come at last when, trembling to and fro,
Each flower is a censer sifting its perfume;
The scent and sounds all swirl in evening’s gentle fume;
A melancholy waltz, a languid vertigo!
Each flower is a censer sifting its perfume;
A violin’s vibrato wounds the heart of woe;
A melancholy waltz, a languid vertigo!
The sky, a lofty altar, lovely in the gloom,
......
Incident
by Natasha Trethewey
We tell the story every year—
how we peered from the windows, shades drawn—
though nothing really happened,
the charred grass now green again.
We peered from the windows, shades drawn,
at the cross trussed like a Christmas tree,
the charred grass still green. Then
we darkened our rooms, lit the hurricane lamps.
At the cross trussed like a Christmas tree,
a few men gathered, white as angels in their gowns.
......
Parent's Pantoum
by Carolyn Kizer
for Maxine Kumin
Where did these enormous children come from,
More ladylike than we have ever been?
Some of ours look older than we feel.
How did they appear in their long dresses
More ladylike than we have ever been?
But they moan about their aging more than we do,
In their fragile heels and long black dresses.
......
Floral Paths of Summer
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Flowery paths wildly intersect rich, late summer;
While beautiful flute music plays in green trees,
Amidst song so rife, without drumrolls of thunder.
In butterscotch ease, drift humming, honeybees.
While beautiful flute music plays in green trees;
The exotic blooms send pleasant fumes, far away.
In butterscotch ease, drift humming, honeybees;
With huge, tossed hibiscuses, in crimson disarray.
......
The foie-gras Factory at La Landelle
by Joe Cyr
(pantoum)
On our sojourn at La Landelle in green pastoral France,
we toured the foie-gras factory,
which makes delicious things.
Here, pallid, mute lethargic ducks
endure a force-feed dance,
disagreeing at the outset with but a fuss of wings.
Within the foie-gras factory, which makes delicious things,
......
Lovers Memory Lane
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Where've I been in time? Seems I've passed this way before.
I remember you. Do you remember me? Life can be strange;
Like entering the same old spaces, only using different doors!
But, meeting prior isn't possible, unless time was rearranged.
I remember you. Do you remember me? Life can be strange!
Both mysterious and perplexing, what my heart is telling me;
But, meeting prior isn't possible, unless time was rearranged,
Offering on the spur of a moment, a seeming double destiny.
......
Red Robin Serenade
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Red robin has long been singing, amidst a forest green spring,
In the burnt apricot days of sun, of teal skies fresh and clear,
Warbling to a blooming world unseen, hues coming and going.
Then red butterflies appear, like pale moon in plum mists sheer.
In the burnt apricot days of sun, of teal skies fresh and clear,
Satiny voiced red robin sings, while grazing the cream clouds.
Then red butterflies appear, like pale moon in plum mists sheer;
And all of nature's lovely crowds, are wrapt in dusky shrouds.
......
A Blanket of Diamonds
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Golden stars tell the story, of still, night's glory,
Twinkling and flashing, in the hours of dreams,
Long after the dazzling sunset, a black cherry,
Full moon's lovely as it's pouring, satiny cream.
Twinkling and flashing, in the hours of dreams,
And filling the night with a kind of black magic,
Full moon's lovely as it's pouring, satiny cream.
The smooth lakes and soft moon flowers gleam.
......
