In the wheel of Earth’s years
we watch as Autumn’s clock
Tick-tocks in tiny goldenrod
September petal’d seconds
Frosty trees bleed scarlet hours
through veins of October leaves
Amber minutes wither and fall
drifting in November’s breeze
And the silent strike of midwinter
turns December’s snowflake gears
—Terri Guillemets
The glow of the moon is poetry
The blossoming of flowers is poetry
The blossoming of woman is poetry
The glow of woman is poetry —
and even more so, because
the light comes from within.
—Terri Guillemets
vibrant verdure lights
the springtime landscape
in blazingly brilliant greens
a fresh flourishing canvas
for parti-colored sparks
of wildly blooming things
—Terri Guillemets
Spring is the green
is the peace
is the breeze
and the blossoms
and the blues
past the buds
to the pinks
on the brink
and the warmth
and the warbles
and the weeds
all the yellows
and the bees
and the buzzing
living branches
and the grasses
and the gardens
and the growing
and the blowing
of the pollens
oh! the purples
and the chirples
of the birds
and the beauty
and the butterflies
in the skies
and the sun—
Springtime’s fun!
—Terri Guillemets
Women blossom and re-blossom throughout their lives, thus in age making a beautifully garden’d reminiscence of many kinds of flowers.
—Terri Guillemets
the moon and plum tree
make flow’ry springtime shadows—
lovers of the night
—Terri Guillemets
Live for the roots
Love the green
Dance with the blossoms
—Terri Guillemets
Springtime is a poet —
the blue sky its blank page
so vibrant green in rhyme
a different metre for every clime
birds chirping to keep the time
wildflowers yellow, red, purple divine
words dancing on tall blades of grasses
sparkling in the morning dews
no commas the flow keeps buzzing
vernal dashes & blossoming branches
on newly greening verdant trees
refrains whispering in each breeze
butterflies — floating apostrophes
ladybugs dot floral question marks
blissful bees stray stanza to stanza
seeds disperse from verse to verse
continuing a poem that’s never ended
and into summer’s colors is blended
—Terri Guillemets
Spring is so damn pink!
O yes, it’s vibrantly green
and greenly vibrant too—
reds burst, oranges blaze
yellows beam like the sun
violet dazzles vivid delight
blue paints the entire sky—
but the thing that thrills
my soul the most is that
Spring is so damn pink!
—Terri Guillemets
Spring is being blessed and happy,
with blooming flowers.
Summer is being blessed and hot,
with abundant sunshine.
Autumn is being blessed and reflective,
with colored leaves.
Winter is being blessed and chilly,
with sparkling snow.
—Terri Guillemets
Flowers rewrite soil, rain, and sunshine into petal’d poetry.
—Terri Guillemets
The color of springtime is in the flowers; the color of winter is in the imagination.
—Terri Guillemets
P.S. Thanks so much to everyone who let me know about USA Today and King Features Syndicate using this quote for their “Cryptoquote” on December 3rd. That’s pretty cool! They actually left out a small portion and quoted it as “The color of springtime is flowers; the color of winter is in the imagination.” —tg, 2022
yellow-striped bee
what do you see
inside perfumed flowers?
soul or sex or color
food & imminent honey
or just a job to be done?
intoxicating pollen
fragrant petals
jewels of every hue?
is it that what’s wild for us
is just cubicle walls to you?
—Terri Guillemets