On this page you will find several poems. If you would like to submit a poem you've written around this theme, send it to me at (LaraOct7@aol.com)

Walking With My Rainbrella

I love to go walking with my "rainbrella" in mommy's garden fair.
It is so peaceful and fragrant among the flowers there.

The butterflies tickle by nose and lite in my hair.
The flower garden, by far, is my favorite lair.

Each little birdie that lands in the tulip tree,
Makes me feel happy and laugh with glee.

Even when it's not raining, I love my umbrella.
It keeps the sun off and makes me feel like Cinderella.

Mommy planted the garden with me in mind.
She planted blue bells and cockle shells and is ever so kind.

© By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@msn.com)

The Honeysuckle Blooms

At last the honeysuckle blooms
I waited all winter for this
Its sweet nector calls out to me
Oh what wonderful bliss

I flit from one red blossom to
Another as it calls to me
Spring time is my favorite time
Food is plentiful you see

My little hummingbird wings flap
As fast as they can go
The nector from the honeysuckle
Satisfies my every need so

Sometimes a cat will watch me
With drool all over his face
But he can never get close enough
I flit fast from place to place

Honesuckle is one of my favorite
Blossoms to get a drink
I am there for just a moment
And gone as quick as wink

Sometimes I share the blossoms
With singing little friends
And sometimes I find other flowers
With other colorful blends

But honeysuckle is the best
For sipping all that sweet
With its scented red blossoms
Oh what a wonderful treat

© By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)

Music Breezes

Once I walked in a garden yellow,
A soft rain falling on my umbrella,
Music breezes filled my ears,
And I had tears, I had tears.

I was lost, my brother ran and left me,
Running from the rain he did flee.
I was lost, who would take care of me?
I was just three, just three.

Soon I heard a sweet sweet voice,
My mother calling, comfort noise,
Soon I was found and warm and safe,
She kissed my face, my little face.

One day I was in the garden store,
Saw this small stone figure dressed as yore.
And ‘tho it was still in cold December,
I bought it to remember, I remember.

© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)

Begin Counting Down From

Oh, how cute, to myself I said,
Watching the forlorn little girl,
Her umbrella over her head,
While giving the handle a twirl.

It was of a pinwheel design,
Orange spiraling with sky blue,
Playing tricks on these eyes of mine,
Making me dizzy, helpless, too.

Suddenly, it was she and me,
In a garden under soft rain.
The world around spun crazily -
I tried to break the trance in vain.

There was nowhere to look for aid,
She could do with me as she would.
With the spinning spiral, she played,
And, near me, I sensed others stood.

I admit that I was frightened,
Whoozy, unable to resist -
Until restraints were untightened,
The IV taken from my wrist.

I recognized the ceiling light,
Its peculiar umbrella shape,
As the nurse whispered, “You’re all right,”
From my forearm, she ripped the tape.

© By RickMack (Rmrickmack@aol.com)

Watch these pages for more 'send a poem' requests.
In the meantime, click the links below for other
poems and stories by the authors at Lara's Den.

By The Mighty Mississippi

Reach For The Stars

Our Library

Ahhh, Childhood Days

Pioneer Woman

At Last, Spring!

And.......for many others, click the index image.

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Graphics by Marilyn