It has been one year since Marie Elena and I had this hare-brained idea that we could establish a poetic garden that finds beauty blooming in the starkness of every day life. As we start our second year, no better place to start again, than with a re-seeding of our “Poet-anical” Garden. We return to the soil AND the prompt that got us started. And so…
Every garden starts with a seed. A small part of the big picture; a beginning. And so we begin our second year at Poetic Bloomings.
The prompt for this Sunday reflects that idea. Write a “seed” poem. It could literally be a seed of a plant, or an idea that sparks a greater effort. It could be the beginning of a life, or whatever you feel would be the start of something big. Write about the flower you have “adopted” on your Recollection page, and show your bloom. Just get started. That’s a beginning in itself.
MARIE ELENA’S SEED
REACH (a sonnet)
My feet are planted firmly here at home,
Yet seeds are scattered farther than my span.
Words blossom in encouragement-rich loam,
And flourish far beyond this gardener’s plan.
What joy, as peace and beauty grace the way,
What nourishment that seeps into my soul.
My senses overflowing every day
On shade-tinged path, or sunny poppy’d knoll.
One kernel sown, yet harvest so diverse –
A multiplicity of voice takes flight
And broadcasts as poetic seeds disperse
To transplant hope, wherever they alight.
In gratitude, two kindred gardeners toil
To cultivate Poetic Bloomings soil.
~~~~
NOTE: Poetic Bloomings seeds have blown across the following borders … a statistic that is altogether amazing and humbling.
United States, Denmark, Canada, United Kingdom, France, Spain, Australia, Bulgaria, Philippines, India, Singapore, Germany, Latvia, Nigeria, Italy, Sweden, South Africa, Sri Lanka, Mexico, Poland, Austria, Brazil, Republic of Korea, Ireland, United Arab Emirates, Greece, Saudi Arabia, Hong Kong, Pakistan, New Zealand, Malaysia, Indonesia, Portugal, Egypt, Senegal, Croatia, Belgium, Japan, Czech Republic, Norway, Georgia, Netherlands, Trinidad, Tobago, Kuwait, Ghana, Peru, Belize, Guatemala, Argentina, Bangladesh, Taiwan, Switzerland, Syrian Arab Republic, Angola, Slovakia, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Colombia, Albania, Puerto Rico, Yemen, Thailand, Dominican Republic, Malta, Gabon, and Russia!
Would that all visits be as harmonious as those stemming from our modest garden. A Poetic Bloomings wave of greeting to all, and “Peace be the journey.”
~~~~
WALT’S SEED
AND THE SUN SHALL REIGN DOWN
Darkness disturbed.
The first sprout of Spring is seen
and senses the early breath of a breeze
bathing it with the gentle movement
of a life begun. Showers have touched
the soil, deep and aromatic; fertilized
and fed to nurture and grow, strong in root
and tall in beauty. Our sprout reaches
skyward to embrace the golden life-giving orb.
And the sun shall reign down to caress
the beginnings of beauty in bloom!
*****
In our effort to promote our poets, Marie and I wish to thank and congratulate the following poets who had posted poetry on the first day and have remained dedicated to the growth of beauty through verse.
PATRICIA A. HAWKENSON – – DE JACKSON
VIVIENNE BLAKE – ELIZABETH JOHNSON
LAURIE KOLP – ANDREW KREIDER
HANNAH GOSSELIN – BARBARA YATES YOUNG
DAN PAICOPULOS – CONNIE L. PETERS
PAULA WANKEN – KELLY DONADIO
IAIN DOUGLAS KEMP – MICHAEL GROVE
PAMELA SMYK CLEARY – CLAUDETTE YOUNG
KIMIKO MARTINEZ
And we’ve grown tremendously since then. Thank you all!
The POETIC BLOOMINGS badge is available under the P.B. Badge tab above. The HTML code is provided to allow you to show your inclusion in our garden. Join the growing that we are sowing!
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
Congratulations, my amazing friends! So glad to be along for the bloomin’ ride. Wishing you many more years of colorful poetic blooms. You are LOVED.
I’m so piggy-backing this statement!! Well-said, De!! I’m SO very grateful for this poetic community…such a blessing! Thank you Marie and Walt for ALL of your amazing efforts and fellow poets for your inspiring words!! Warm Hannahsmiles!!
Yes.
Me too…this site, Marie and Walt, has been a fresh wind, an arousing aroma to my poetic yearnings. You continue to amaze and inspire. Thanks,
Damon
Thanks so very much!
Marie Elena
This is SO exciting. Congratulations, Walt and Marie on a cultivating world-wide garden and to all the poets who plant beautiful blooms.
~THE SUNFLOWER~
~~~
The seed does not try to fit into its old, fallen rusk,
just as the full face, heavy laden crown of kernels
holds its head low, stooping in a slow stumble.
It does not then try to regain composure
but heeds the humble call for sowing;
accepts its days of sun gracefully,
feels true fulfillment in passing,
calling and purpose in yielding.
~~~
The seed does not try to fit into its old, fallen rusk
It allows the drawing strength of gravity
to fully flourish, extracting every remnant,
every golden bit of good that it stood for;
each solemn, soulful seed will succumb, will drop.
Every pit is a promise, a symbol of hope,
means for a new beginning and a fresh tomorrow
lies in the strength of the conceding flower.
~~~
The seed does not try to fit into its old, fallen rusk
but plants its feet firmly in the terra firma
fighting for survival with a fore knowledge
deeply imbedded in the very pattern of its skin;
written in the finite folds of its twisting history
as it pulsed and pushed through the ancient ages
and so it proceeds embracing its divine design,
shape-shifting, spiraling cyclically through time.
~~~
© H.G.@ P.B. 4/29/12 seeds
I played a bit with the idea of a free form-form that that I created that I’ll call “The Perfect Echo.” I made a bold statement and then followed it with seven lines (seven being symbolic for the number of completion), and repeated this pattern three times (three being symbolic for the number of confirmation). The nature of the topic of this poem makes way for the echoing idea of eternity…beginnings and endings following each other indefinitely forever. So with this idea in mind, I employed eight lines per stanza (eight being symbolic for the number of eternity).
I just, just wrote this for a picture prompt of a sunflower for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads. I hope no one minds if I use it for this seed prompt…it just seemed to perfect a coincidence to pass up! Thank you, you guys!
Bravo for a complex form beautifully realised.
Oh, I Know… fantastic, Hannah!!!
Thank you, Viv! This was a fun wrangle with words!
I just LOVE sunflowers, and they are sooo YOU, Hannah!!! Hen
Thank you, Hen!! This is separate from my birth flower which is the “sweet-pea!” I think I will probably write one for that, too, this week! I appreciate your kind words!
Ohhh…. how SWEET!!! :)!!!
A lovely, poetic expression of life;s meaning and mysteries. We should all be as accepting of our fate as the sunflower seed!
So true, Linda!! A graceful passing! Thank you, so much!!
Hannah,
wow..love that form! And beautiful…our sunflowers have bloomed in the last week (the short ones) and so this beautiful piece validated their “heavy laden crowns.” Beautiful.
Oh, I’m so glad, SevenAcreSky!! Thank you, for your words!!
Hannah, you know that I like you so much. Now I have read this poem so many times and I’d like to invite you to come right over here and explain it for me. I looked up every little word that might interfere my interpretation and still I must say – I’m here – hands down.
I hope you don’t kill me – but is this a praise of nature purely?
I believe I wrote this as a praise to the Power behind all of the journeys of every living thing that exists.
To me, this is a poem of graceful passage, of accepting the “next,” thing of our lives and making the best of it all knowing that it has all been for fulfillment, a purpose. Passing is not a losing but a gaining in the aspect that what we have accomplished can further the next generations.
I hope that helps some, Andrea. Warm smiles to you!
Just beautiful. The sunflower is my favorite flower. I have written so many poems about it, but this is magnificent.
Sara! That is so sweet of you, I really appreciate this, thank you!
Profound, stunning, gorgeous and truly Hannah! So, so many great lines but this one made me stop and re-read…’Every pit is a promise, a symbol of hope,…Yes!
Oh Hannah, life has many ‘gardens’ and the one I’ve been in lately is not at the computer, yet flowers like this bloom…and I keep praying to God that I keep my priorities in order and that in time a window opens for me to stroll a little through this garden. I’m thankful He let me find this bloom… and I’m thankful that the blooms will be here when I get a chance to return and enjoy the ones I missed! That is where a ‘poetic-bloom’ trumps any other. It remains a bloom for centuries to come!
God bless you and thank-you for your faithful ‘seeds’ you plant in your poetry and in your comments!..ah, a bloom holds the seed:)
This truly makes my day, Janet! You’re so very kind. I would SO love to spend the day in the dirt of your garden. You live such a rich and fulfilling life. Thank you for your inspiration. God’s abundant blessings on you too, Janet!! Warm smiles to you!
🙂 Right back atcha…
Shortly after I left this reply there was a knock on the door and a neighbor was dropping by for a visit:)…the end of writing day.:( oops i mean 🙂 I told somebody else that my being torn between various ‘gardens’ is a torment of bliss, due to many loved ones.
Oh, I feel this pulling in your heart, Janet, it is a painful but bitter-sweet feeling. The longing to write when life pulls you away into different directions. I always try to console my soul with the fact that these times are but beautiful fodder for future poems. I imagine I would be so poem-less without the experiences behind it all.
I know you know every bit of what I’m speaking about so know it is more of a commiserating in the sweetness of life that can feed and at the same time keep us from the physical craft of writing.
Thank you, for this time to think about all of this. 🙂
Thank-you for reminding me of that, kindred-friend:)
I’m grateful for the re reminder in your words too, kindred-sister indeed! 🙂
Exquisitely Hannah 🙂
The first stanza is my favorite. Keep blooming.
This is so generous, Benjamin! Thank you for making me smile!
Marie! I love this stanza…
“What joy, as peace and beauty grace the way,
What nourishment that seeps into my soul.
My senses overflowing every day
On shade-tinged path, or sunny poppy’d knoll.”
Such a beautiful and authentic voice in your poetry!
I can feel the nurturing sunshine, Walt!! Thank you for your words, a blessing!
~Smiles!
Yes!
:)!
:)! :)!
Thank you, Hannah and Hen!
meg
You’re welcome, Marie!!
Thank you!!!
Marie, I agree with all the other comments here. Just wonderful!
I agree as well Both of these poems are true beauties!
Congrats especially to you stalwarts! And I meant to thank you both for the badge … it posted easily to my blog (not always my experience with badges etc.) and it’s very nice .. .
Glad it worked! My Partner is gooooooood!
meg
I can just hear him saying the same thing about you, Mrs. Good! :)!
😀 !
Marie, your poem is a marvellous realisation of all that this site/garden has come to mean to us, and Walt’s follows on in delightful horticultural fashion. Thank you.both for all you do.
Thank YOU, Viv. Warm smiles …
meg
Seeds
garnered in autumn
over-wintered in the fridge
sown with hope in spring
bathed in warm sunshine
and a modicum of rain –
last year’s flowers re-born
Ohh… “…bathed in warm sunshine..” Lovely…
Beautiful simplicity, charming imagery!
Love how you tie it together with your closing, full circle!
‘…flowers reborn…” made me think of the sensory moments, the emotional episodes, the day-to-day ah-ha’s that become our poems–seeds garnered in our prior days. Beautiful, Viv.
Lovely thought, 7!
ON MY KNEES
I’d like to say I put on all the leaves
on all the trees
covered the world with oceans
created waves of motions.
I’d like to take you by the hand
show you that you can
so brilliantly walk around.
A world is out there to be found.
Only I’m not the almighty here
the light of wisdom, dear.
I’m only your neighbour
that you say you favour.
I’m your other you – two eyes, two ears, a nose and a heart
so scared to see we’re torn apart.
Lovely sad.
Thanks for your comment, Hen. Yes, it might be sad – in the meaning of me saying goodbye. But it’s most of all happy because we met and I learnt a lot and hopefully learnt something, too.
Sorry, hopefully you learnt something, too.
Yes…. every relationship, in my life, leaves behind its own sweetness… :).
So beautifully said and achingly true.
Linda, thank you so much. Your comment means so much to me. Thank you.
This is so full of wonder and tenderness, I love that it breaks down division, too. Beautiful, Andrea!
Hannah, thank you so much. I really hope that in all what I stand for – it breaks down division. That’s what I wish for. Thanks.
Perfect then! So glad and you’re welcome, Andrea!! Smiles to you!
A tender honest bare-hearted plea…lovely, Andrea.
SevenAcreSky, I went to your website – it takes me around ten minutes to get there because I only have mobile net. But I did because I needed to say your name – because you see that I plea! Because I do. I’m so afraid that America will be divided due to religion or due to politics – and I’m so afraid that Europe will, too – and that will be due to the economical crisis.
But that you see the plea in this touched me so much – because there is. Thank you so much.
Tender beauty, Andrea.
Lovely words, Walt and Meg; congratualtions on your very successful first year, and may you have many, many more! I Love it here!
And we love having our most ardent cheerleader here! 😀
meg
Why, thank you, Meg… sweetness again in my life!
(No specific form. Except for the title, this piece was written long ago and far away.)
RESEED
I vow this day
to go back to the Old Ways
to regain my strength…
to return to the Earth.
God keep me safe.
Amen.
This is strong and timeless, Hen, a treasure!
Thank you, Hannah, I’m starting to feel grounded, once again. 🙂
Henrietta,
such solid resolve. I see the stand, the turn, the step back immediately at the ‘Amen.’
…yes… thank you, 7!
Sabotage in the Garden
God’s
Warning:
Obey Rules;
No Red Rum Fruit,
Fool!
Snake
Sneaky:
Bending Branch;
Rolled Apple to
Eve!
She,
Adam’s
Rib, Shaken;
Her Innocence
Gone!
Seeds
Flourish,
Adam’s sin:
A beginning
Sprout.
(A favorite of mine; the Japanese lantern : 1,2,3,4,1.) From little acorns of thought, many things grow…
I love this form. I have not seen it before and you did it so well!
I am so happy to learn about this new form and you used it beautifully!
Oh, great seed to choose to write about, Jacqueline!! And a new form to try, thank you!!
Thank you, Hannah. I like this site…I may put some roots down…
You will grow strong here…
Welcome, Jacqueline! (LOVE the name and the spelling). Root away!
Marie Elena
This is a great set, Jacqueline. A whole (HUGE) story, in so few words. Love it.
Thank you, Gizmo. May all your seeds be whimsical!
Hee, hee, the word “whimsical” is sooo magical to me — I have always Loved it!
Thanks Jacqueline…a new form for me too. I’ll have to try it. And your topic was great for this prompt…seeds, weed seeds.
Thank you for response, now to go weed my garden…
Hi Jacqueline, I’m a newbie to the site,
but agree with the others -well done.
and am adding the form to my book of forms to learn and use. Thanks
Thanks, Marjory, to my Japanese Lantern form. I am newbie also. Hope all your seedlings are good ones. Jackie
Love this form!
Very impressive, both form and words!
POTTED PLANTS
You try so hard to make them grow.
Why you do, I don’t quite know.
Sufficient water, lots of light:
They grow themselves outside all right.
Pat the soil, watch the leaves
For signs of insects or disease.
And though it gets its share of light,
It doesn’t seem to grow quite right.
Though you did what you could do,
It grew unlike it wanted to.
A plant is meant, not to be grown,
But to develop on its own.
So now remember you and I
And don’t let faded memories die.
Keep them watered with your tears,
And cultivate them through the years.
For if you leave them all alone,
They may develop on their own.
Yet, one day memories must be faced.
They can be changed, but not erased.
Beautifully stated.
Yes…
Linda, I have a friend in Missouri who sent me a picture of her peach tree recently. And I wrote back to her yesterday: You’re so far ahead of us here in DK.
She’s Amy and I’d love to share you poem with her. She’d love it and so do I. Is it okay?
Just love this Linda! I will share this with my wife (Container Queen…loves her pots as much as everything in the ground!) And these are of course my favorite lines….
“Keep them watered with your tears,
And cultivate them through the years.”
Thanks to ALL who make this a soft place to land. 🙂
Awww! Love this, Patricia!
Marie Elena
Agreed. Well put Patricia.
Blooming Proud to Be Here
The wind tries
in gentle nudges,
but when pushed
to its limits
a moving gale.
Friends of poets
do the same,
knowing the seed
shares the power
of hope.
A prompt can be
a thought that sticks,
burring till it picked
and shared
with you all.
Then memories
from the garden path,
both word and deed
linger in sweetness
throughout the day.
Loved: “… linger in sweetness…” !
Oh, I can see that burr catching, Patricia, this one WIll be with me!! Thank you for your beautiful words and presence!
Ohhhh. Fitting, Patricia, because your words often “linger in sweetness.”
They do linger! I often think of them and have to get back on-site and share with my wife the beauty of these blooms.
Source Material
Some writers
find their words,
buried in the compost of bitterness,
in a field of anger and resentment,
sown by sorrow, raked with regret,
fertilized by vengeance for abandoned love,
ironically giving birth
to beautiful blooms
Other writers
find beauty in everything,
in their children, of course,
and family, friends, and lovers,
but also in the catalog of daily living,
in the exotic rose,
the mundane marigold,
the common fern,
predictably giving birth
to beautiful blooms.
Most writers
have a sadness muse,
prompting great works
of love and loss,
replete in their integrity,
they open their veins,
water their seedlings with blood,
painfully giving birth
to beautiful blooms.
All writers
know, regardless the source,
no matter the topic,
the truth will come out,
honesty triumphs,
love trumps cuteness,
every time,
each wonder-filled heart
generously giving birth
to beautiful blooms.
This is wonderful, Daniel!
as always, I am gratified by kind words from western WI
Beautifully spoken… !
it please me that it pleases you
This is wonderful, Daniel.
from you, such blissful words…thanks
Bravo, you captured the moment of celebration in the Poetic Bloomings tribe
thanks for taking the moment to say so…it means a lot
Absolutely. And thank you so much! Perfection, Daniel.
meg
Such beautiful analogies to explore the diversity of the gardener’s muses, Daniel!! I love this part:
“they open their veins,
water their seedlings with blood,
painfully giving birth
to beautiful blooms,”
I can feel that bloom being birthed! Such expressive words!
Hannah, I just knew, when those particular words spilled from my fingers, that you would be the one to see them…you have probably written something similar yourself, only lovelier
This makes my writer heart smile, Daniel!! It’s so nice to be in such a close knit group to the point where we can sense what our fellow writers will love!! You got me figured for sure…I DO love that part and I may have written something someday but not as poignant as you’ve stated it today. Striking, Daniel! 🙂
Perfect, Daniel. Just absolutely perfect.
Ah! Daniel, how perfectly true. What a garden to dwell in, where “honesty triumphs.”
wonder-filled heart
generously giving birth
to beautiful blooms.
Beautifully said – full of promise. Thanks.
“they open their veins/water their seedlings with blood”-Just one example of imagery from a beautiful, heartfelt poem, Daniel.
De, Sara, Marjory, Seven, thanks…I’m putting these comments on my refrigerator
Daniel, this is genius! Loved every line! Splendid work. You got my vote for bloom of the week.
wait, we’re voting? did i miss the deadline?
ah, just joking with you…thanks for your enthusuastic take
This really is…perfect! Each verse profound on its own!
thank you, Janet…so glad to see you with time enough to read…it seemed to my little old empathic self that your plate was a tad full of late
sigh….yes, but only because of so many ‘gardens’ and so many loves in my life…so it is a torment of bliss…this busyness. I’m sure you understand when I say family always comes first! Thank-you for your empathy, Daniel.
If My Daughter is a Garden
I say to you-
if my daughter is a garden
then I am all pumpkin
and watermelon
and a bit of scarecrow,
for the soil
which becomes her
is half my soul.
How sweet is this!!!
Wow!
So well, put, Richard, very creative! I like this bit:
“then I am all pumpkin
and watermelon
and a bit of scarecrow,”
Great poem!!
Ohhh, Richard. This is so sweet. Just perfect.
Richard,
You made this dad smile! Thanks,
Damon
Yes, Richard, this is beautiful. And you got it precisely there when I’m in that kind of mood.
Gentle and loving. 🙂
yes!
POTTED PLANTS
You try so hard to make them grow.
Why you do I don’t quite know.
Sufficient wanter, lots of light:
They grow themselves outside all right.
Pat the soil, watch the leaves
For signs of insects or disease.
And though it gets its share of light,
It doesn’t seem to grow quite right.
Though you did what you could do,
It grew unlike it wanted to.
A plant is meant, not to be grown,
But to develop on its own.
So now remember you and I
And don’t let faded memories die.
Keep them watered with your tears
And cultivate them through the years.
For if you leave them all alone
They might develop on their own.
Yet one day memories must be faced.
They can be changed, but not erased.
Okay Linda, okay, I’ll ask if I can send this to my friend Amy?
Be-u-ti-ful! WOW~
Happy Anniversary to Poetic Bloomings, Marie, Walt, and fellow bloomers!
Origins
Considering the wizened bulb,
rattling seed pod, dusty husks,
minute dots of promise, all that
they are folded into themselves,
the salty slime, the darting cells,
the pollen-laden bee and wind—
the truly extraordinary yet mundane
origins of all things living,
we can only be encouraged
by the resilience and tenacity
of sun-warmed, water-sprung
life, that out of the briefest
specks of possibility came
something so beautifully lush
and petaled, so formed,
foliaged, flowered, fruited;
so thirsty, hungry, needy, longing,
so very Eden.
Oh, Jane this is gorgeous!! I love the last stanza and two lines!! Rich!
What she said!
my goodness, every word is perfect
Every word, indeed. Wow, Jane. Wow.
meg
So very Eden. So very natural and earthy.
Beautiful, Jane.
Jane…you caught the remnant of our first-given grace so beautifully–thank God for the remnant, or it would be an horribly ugly world.
Amen!
meg
Charming capture!
You had me with the first line! Truly tender and so insightful!
Seedling
Plant these words.
I do not know what will
grow, but I love this fertile
ground, and I am
ready for new roots.
Raise this phrase
until it blooms full,
looms on silent stem
hemmed in soil, breeze
and gilded gathered trees.
Steep these syllables
in sunshine, sea and song
and perhaps someday
we’ll finally sow what we
wished for, all along.
.
Ooooooh. Just found a beautiful illustration to go with this on my blog, from a super talented girl I shall be stalking, as soon as I can find her in the current world. Her info in my comments section…
Oh, so stunningly wonderful, De!! My favorite part is ALL OF IT!! Great job, my friend! Will check your blog for pic!! Thanks, De!
what an artist you are, and getting better every day
De, just perfect. Such a graceful determination, a promise-driven hope.
“… Steep… in sunshine, sea and song and perhaps some day we’ll finally sow what we wished for, all along.” I am IN LOVE with these words!!! Thank you, De! 🙂 :)!!!!!!!!!!
Yes, De, only we sow all the time. That’s so great but sometimes it’s also scary.
Can’t wait to keep this one forever in that book you’re publishing;))
De, the whole poem is delightful, but that last stanza… beautiful.
Richard
Tending the Poetic Garden
The seed,
inkling of a thought
nurtured into an idea
that does flourish and grow.
A fertile, rich soil for the crop,
no birds that would scavenge
and eat, rocks plowed out so
roots can grow deep.
No thorns allowed to choke out
voices with poetic words, but a crop,
loved and tended, producing a hundred
times more than that sown.
“Whoever has ears, let them hear”
the beauty of these poetic blooms.
Matthew 13
Thank you Walt and Marie for your
work on this beautiful garden!
what a gracious, appreciative thought
Perfect, Daniel, I do so agree!
love that scripture and this line:No thorns allowed to choke out
voices.
Great tribute, Mark.
Beware birds, and thorns, and rocks….our Marie and Walt tend our fair plot, and wield shovel, rake and hoe. Our voices shall all bloom!
How lovely and humbling, Mark. Thank you so much!
meg
Such a beautiful (poem) picture, promise of hope.
….”and (blessed) your ears, for the hear.”
Man! you just put into words so many loose thoughts I simply could not thread together! Thank-you for speaking our hearts here! God bless.
You are all so kind. Thank you for the sweet thoughts and beautiful words. You make this, as Patricia put it, a “safe place to land.”
Y’all ROCK!!
Marie Elena
“Growth”
Over a river of
promise
cradling my fragile
offering seeds
panning gold nuggets—
blooms left behind
by friends.
Lovely…I love panning for these bright flickers.
Thanks. I love discovering what others have discovered about life.
Loved: “… blooms left behind by friends.”
Thanks so much!
Walt, Marie, Congratulations! And please put Russia on the list of countries your garden has touched 🙂
This was written some time ago in response to Margo’s prompt, but it’s about my Recollections flower, too, so here it is:
~ Golden Glows ~
In the darkness a glowing ball of flames
Floats, pouring golden grace. Myriads
Of rays fall onto Earth, into
The dark soil that breaths them in,
Shoots them back up. They burst
Through, brighten my sky –
The yellow suns
Outside my
Window
Pane.
Thank you again for everything you do!
Just lovely … thanks so much! And welcome, Russia! 😀
meg
🙂
I just noticed: my smiley is smaller than yours, Meg, and has a more “moderate” smile… (Mine has eyebrows, though!)
Just a crazy comment, pay no attention to it. 🙂
HA! I didn’t notice that! Wonder what the deal is … I use a D for mine. What do you use? Love those brows, lol! 😀
Oh, I see.. I’ve always used “colon, dash, parentheses” I’m going to try D now… D !
Oops! D didn’t work for me, I guess I need a couple more punctuation marks! For now I’ll just stick to my “eyebrows guy” 🙂
LOL!!!!!
It would have helped if I gave you more than just the D to go on! Oy …
I use colon, then D. I never heard of colon, dash, parentheses. COOL BEANS!
meg
Hmn, I’ll put in one from Europe 🙂
Loved these words, especially : “…that breathes them in,…”
Thank you, Hen!
(And I hadn’t had my morning coffee yet when I tried to make a smiley face out of a D only, that’s my excuse!)
Tee, hee…. let me try: 😀
YEEEEAAAAH!!! It works!
Yes…. it’s true… I DON’T GET OUT MUCH….. 😀 😀 😀
This is GORGEOUS!
Great! Pictures so well the yellow myriad of wildflowers this spring that have been SO abundant with this early spring. I’ve not thought of that golden light penetrating, then bouncing up itself out of the stem and petal into sight again.
I am happy to join the rest of you garden-poets while planting seeds.
A modified Hay(na)ku – in the interest of condensing to save another tree,
I am writing the three lines as one while denoting the second line with brackets.
I am choosing to call it a SHORT, FAT HAY(NA)KU 🙂
SEEDS [in cycle] planting, growing, eating
PURCHASE [hopes high] seeding veggies dreams.
HOLDING [offered choices] so much choosing.
SAVING [by buying] dozen or more.
SELECTING [mom’s flowers] dad’s sweet corn.
PREPARING [garden loam] defining the rows.
SOWING [tiny seeds] to grow dreams.
COVERING [seeds gently] patting in place.
MAINTAINING [vigilant watch] for erupting sprouts.
NURTURING [feeding, staking] string tied disciplining.
WATER [can’t neglect] sprinkle not saturate.
WATCHING [mindful tending] weeding, thinning, pruning.
GROWING [as watching] the promises increasing.
SAVORING [first strawberries] salad greens, peas,
ANTICIPATING [summer melons] beans, cucumbers, peppers
TOMATO [red globes] enticing to pick.
PRESERVING [as possible] canning, drying, freezing.
SHARING [with others] stupendous fresh pickings.
SAVORING [delight of] abundant, lush harvest.
FALL’S [offerings arrive] carrots, beets, cabbage
PRECEDING [sweet corn] squash, pumpkins.
LOOKING [forward to] next spring arriving.
MMT 4-30-12
Wonderful!!!
Amazing! The whole season.
A Seed in Her Ear
Tell me about the seed, he said, the beginning.
I offered him a single word, no need to say more.
Miscarriages, I said.
I felt the warmth drain from my eyes,
icy defences like a fence post to keep
my spine erect when my only wish was to slide
back on to myself like a melting snowman
cosied-up with an electric blanket.
And …? he asked.
It was a monosyllabic conversation
of extraordinary depth. I reckoned that
he was as drained of emotion as I was filled
with defensive tools. I was a tiny, ticking,
spring-wound clicking clockwork complete
with squarely notched edges so my thoughts
would fit together in a sensible way.
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick. I was geared up.
Adoption, I said.
He peaked his fingers together like a steeply pitched
cathedral roof, and then rested his chin on the top.
I wondered if God rested his chin on church roofs
when he grew weary of listening to our incessant
whinging and belly aching. I doubted it. If God
got tired, there was no hope for fool like me.
He blinked, and paused …
I did the same.
And…? he asked.
He and his brother were my everything.
I was happier than any one person
should be allowed. And then he grew up,
he left home, moved far away, he married,
and then there was Emma. It was my turn;
I blinked, and paused …
He did the same.
And …? he asked.
Well, the thought of her being so far away,
the thought of her not knowing me except
as that woman in England who sends
very pretty dresses, ruffled umbrellas
and pink wellington boots, well, the thought
of her growing up without me was more
than I could take. I was impaled on cold chills
and throttled by panic. And then one day
when she was 2-years old, we cuddled,
we laughed, and we played. I treasured
every moment of that particular stay.
On that day, I hugged her
and I planted a seed in her ear.
Remember me, Emma, I whispered,
Please don’t forget me.
He stared at me, still playing God with his
peaky fingers. There was a hint of impatience
in his voice when he said,
…And?
Well, she’s 4-years old now, I said. A big girl.
When last I was saw her, she climbed up on my lap,
clasped her arms round my neck and whispered,
“Don’t worry, Nana, I haven’t forgotten.”
He stared, and I stared back.
How is that possible that a baby can remember
something like that, something I said so long ago?
He just stared, sitting there in his godly peaky pose,
and shrugged.
Well….? I asked.
Beautiful – full of love and encouragement.
My grand-littleone will be born the other side of the world this month.
Precious, congratulations, MMT; they are lovely, little miracles.
This is soo sweet and precious, M! My three will be visiting me for three glorious weeks, this summer! 🙂 🙂 🙂 !!! 😀 !
Oh…Misky. My heart hurts. Mine is possibly moving away, and I am about to cry at this poem. She will only be three hours away, but it feels as if she might move to England, because I’m so blessed to see her almost every day.
I’m so sorry; I know too well how difficult this is. Skype helps a lot though.
[…] MiskMask April 2012Poetic Bloomings, prompt #53 Planting A Seed Rate this: Share this:TwitterFacebookLinkedInPinterestEmailLike this:LikeBe the first to like this […]
How appropriate the theme in this spring season! The Theme of “Returning to the Soil” immediately brought to mind my Dad who was a farmer who shared many non-scientific but quite reliable ways of the land with his sons and daughters. This small poem was inspired by one of them.
Testing
By Patricia Anne McGoldrick
Amber wheat so hard
Crushed by my father’s molars
Harvest’s white centre.
Published in Issue 3 March 2010 at http://www.ambassadorpoetry.com/.
(previously published at this url, now retired due to lack of funding)
…good, old-fashioned testing! Love this!
Thanks! as a child it left a real picture in my mind that led me to write a poem years later!
Ah, yes… amazing little seeds… so many get planted in our young, tender years…
Thanks!
I can see this, your father with his head slightly tilted, testing the grain….lovely moment from your memory. Thanks, Patricia.
What is Soil?
Throw away the verb.
Soil is too precious to be slandered
Think of a land of barren rock
That has never seen the color green
No life, no vegetation, no animals.
Cover the rock with soil. Generations
Would pass ,( if they exsisted)
Soil is a product of intensive care.
Of animal, vegetable, mineral
Of atmosphere – sunlight and clouds
That produce essential water.
Millennia without number.
The earth disturbed, gently
Let the seeds split in the soil
Once again, small spears of green
So we live our animal lives
Living in shelter, family, kin.
Together tending the soil
Watching as the earth turns from brown
To living green
Harvest the grains of gold.
Yes… “…Soil is too precious to be slandered… Soil is a product of intensive care…..”
Marian, This is so beautiful.
Yes, the soil is sacred, precious. What are seeds without it?
The Day Ends
Shadows greyed
the peonies
as they hung their
heavy heads
after a day
of showing off
their crimson petticoats
with the passerby’s glances
forgetting to inhale
their shot of intoxication
that was free for the picking.
Now night must do her magic
giving them renewed courage
to raise their heads
in dignity
tomorrow
and tomorrow
before the summer ends
with chastising heat
and dries them all
to seed.
Oooh… : “…her magic giving them renewed courage to raise their heads in dignity tomorrow and tomorrow…”
Reminds me, Patricia, to never forget to inhale these free intoxications of beauty posted here.
Beautifully written – Thanks
Our peonies bushes (not individulal plants) are just teasing us with a tiny hint of color – in a day or two the bushes will be bursting with huge blossems.
[…] carpets,Stretch your neck long for cloudsFill your blossoms with raindrops Poetic form: TankaPoetic Bloomings Prompt: Seeds, Returning to the SoildVerse Poets, Pretzels and Bullfights: Ariwara no Narihira Rate this: Share […]
Fiery Tulips
Your seeds ignite reds,
Bright burning yellow petals
on grass-green carpets,
Stretch your neck long for clouds
Fill your blossoms with raindrops
Such strong, rich growth… and yet, they capture tender raindrops… Lovely.
I justed add a photo of them to that poem on my MiskMask blog, if you want to see the real inspiration.
Oh, God’s paintbrush– stunningly beautiful! Thank you!
I love the raindrops…the thirst-quenching comments that fall from the digital blue sky on the blooms of this garden.
Lovely, 7!
If you nurture them, they will grow. Thank you for the opportunity
to be a seedling in your magical garden.
Brown-eyed Flower
Seeds sown in planters
grow large leaves,
mighty stems
that bend toward sun, velvet brown
eyes, sunflower wise.
————————————
The Site to Seek
Poetic Bloomings
where small seeds
grow and bloom.
Each word is a leaf, each phrase
a perfumed flower.
Oh, so lovely, Sara!
Thanks, Hen.
Loveley, indeeeeed!
Thanks!
Bloom
I planted a seed of normalcy,
Hoping for a life more ordinary,
But the bloom that burst forth
Was anything but commonplace,
A rare blossom unseen by mortal eyes
And destined for the exceptional.
Rare, lovely, and exceptional!
Well done, Mary.
Beautiful, Mary. Many seeds are planted, but not all are watered by hope.
LONE STAR INTOXICATION
Texas spills fragrance:
Night-blooming Jasmine, English
riding boots, horse breath. :)!!!
This made me smile! Thanks. There’s nothing like a fresh smile before bedtime 🙂
Oh!!! Thank you, Benjamin, and there’s nothing like a burst of joy and laughter, first thing in the morning… you just MADE MY DAY!!! :)! :)!
Keeping blooming!
!!!!! 😀 !
Hen! Makes my nose watery!
Aaahahaha… sorry 7; here’s a tissue, so you don’t miss out.
The Spider
A spider has its place in life
Though it has its limits
To catch those pesky flies,
With a web like frost on glass
Its silken thread glistens in moonlight
As the spider guards its seed
The spider goes about being a spider
With no glimpse of the big picture
I love this, Connie; it reminds me of a scene from the magical movie: The Last Mimzy.
We are limited to our web…it’s true. But the vibrations of the strands hint at a world at large, and I’m glad I’ve spun in this garden.
Oh, 7… you MUST see The Last Mimzy (ideally, with children!)
I never caught that one..and wanted to. It’s Friday night…maybe a movie night!
You will be Enchanted!!!
Cute little spider tale here 🙂
Growing a Poet – Parts One and Two
I am barren, gutted, sere
Words have flown from me
Fluttering their wings as fast
And fiercely as the wind
Wailing off waters as yet
Uncharted
My days unwind ahead
Of me like pale pedestrian
Imitations of the life
I dreamt was my poetic
Legacy when setting down
Such things consumed me
Beyond despair I give up hope
Of writing, so am stunned
To find myself in a garden
Filled with blooms poetic
I know not how I got here
But wish only to stay, drink
In poems until inebriated
In this paradise, I pass out
Surprisingly clear-headed
I awake and in my grasp
The beginnings of a poem
Just a seed, but it is a start
I pledge to plant the poem
In the garden should it
Come to fruition
Part Two
Now, I frequent this garden
with regularity
The gardeners here are true
stewards of the earth and
poetry both
Providing tender generous care
in all respects
And the rewards sown
Are reaped by all who come here
Whether it is to post work
Or just to read …
A funny thing about poems with blooms
Just like plants, they produce more seeds
This garden is a self-perpetuating place
That’s helping spread poetry everywhere
This once bereft poet cannot articulate how
Grateful she is for the place and the gardeners
And wonders why the simplest things seem
The most difficult to express … like thanks.
But when all is said and done, that’s all she
Needs to say – thank you for the seeds,
For the garden, and mostly, for being here.
S.E.Ingraham©
Ohhh… a garden of Perennials…. thank you, Sharon!!!
Thank You Hen!
!!! 🙂
…and thank-you Sharon, for blooming here! This is touching, something I’m sure we can all relate to! God Bless.
Sharon….I am reading up from the bottom today….and several poems back I just had to take my hands off the keyboard, drop my arms to my side, sigh a satisfying sigh, and say aloud, “Oh….I love this place.”
Then I scrolled up, and saw where you took my thought and sang it.
Whew -hew! From PA street back into the garden. Let’s get our bloom on…but first we must sow some seeds.
BETTER LATE THAN NEVER!!! ‘Tis I, “the late” ABL. ha ha
Garden of Weeds
It can start with anything
A feather caught in a curling freefall
That cardinal pecking at my window
The random assemblage of spices
jumbled on the shelf – one tumbles me
awake, ablaze with cardamom coincidence
Mom’s spirit sharing coffee with me
telling stories from where she now resides
far off in heaven, and thisclose
Even bad memories stir me
dredge, sift, filtering through
my bones, seeping to the nerves
A prophet once told me that
love is everywhere
So is truth
So is pain
So is amazement
So is amusement
So is romance
So is anger…
despair …
relief
So it’s time
to reach for my journal
and sprout another plant
for my garden of weeds
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For Poetic Bloomings, Marie and Walt called for poems about SEEDS… seeds to plant, to nurture; seeds of poetry and other art… the beginning little “oomph” that pushes one to action.
So Love– ly, those weeds…
You do grow LOVELY weeds! Amy, there is SO much food for thought in your words! thank-you for sharing.
Amy…the best poems to me are like this one–the writer’s moments, the writer moved, the writer reaching to write. This kind of poem reaches and squeezes our hearts as writers, and affirms the common beat in all of our souls.
WOW! Could it really be a year already?? It doesn’t seem possible! You guys are amazing — as is your reach and influence! I feel both honored — and undeserving — to be included in your list of poets, as I’ve only been lurking about in the shadows. You’ve “guilted me” into trying to be more present in the future — is that an oxymoron?? Marie & Walt, I love both your poems, and will make every effort to plant more seeds into your lovely “Poet-anical” Garden (love that phrase, Walt!). Starting today, here’s my “seed poem”:
Immigrants
Uprooted from faraway places
distant homelands, familiar faces,
scattered, broadcast, blown by breeze
transplanted into common ground
by sweat and toil, they sowed
their seeds in fertile soil
old roots cling, hew and cleave,
standards relinquish, legacy
intermingles with new mores,
uncertain beginnings blossom,
wild flowers finding their own way
BEAUTIFUL poem. And no guilt. We don’t want anyone to feel even the least bit “obligated” to post here, “PSC.” Truly.
Marie Elena
Thanks, Marie. And I knew that! Think I was just born with a guilty conscience! LOL
…and yet ANOTHER thing we have in common! 😉
meg
“… wild flowers finding their own way..” Love this!!!
Thank you Hen! That image appealed to me too. 🙂
This is so ‘romantic’. Beautiful!
Awww… thanks, Janet! 🙂
We taught our fifth graders years ago that America was a melting pot…this is the first time I’ve been able (thanks Pamela) to see it as an immigrated garden!
I like ‘old roots cling, hew, and cleave.’ Powerful picturing.
Thank you, SevenAcreSky! What a sweet thing to say! 🙂 I think I like the image of a wildflower garden better than a melting pot. :-))
The King’s Roots
The King’s choice seed has been planted
His royal germ is well known
Full growth its full inclination
Into majestic garden, stately home
The life within, stirred demanding
Constant perfection, glory replete
as gem-laden rhizomes drink ripe earth
sinking plumb deep, wayward creep
Its uncomeliness has now been broken
From cracked shell it obtains escape
Pivoting to and fro developing
With wiggle room taking shape
“Its uncomeliness has now been broken… From cracked shell it obtains escape…” The mysterious miracle here.
🙂
Gorgeous…’Its uncomeliness has now been broken’ what a powerful line!
Yes…that line’s the pinnacle of this piece.
Extravagant Royal Seed
Extravagant royal seed
What magnificent birth of soil
of crystal Magnolias arrayed
in soft sapphire trunks
pickled pink in diamond-rose blossoms
abundantly crowned aside
emerald leaf, rubied spinal stems
sparkling, startling rich producing fruitful gems
… wow, some of my favorite gemstones… Lovely take, poetryshack!
I love precious stones as well.
Ah! The colors!
Wholly Encompassed
Seeds sown
in tilled hearts
taking root;
gaining ground
rummaging,
seeking room
gathering fruit
of mind, emotion
will.
resurfaced
determined
trailing arm, limb
winding
winding
each extremity
creeping
creeping
head to toe
holding fast tendrils grip
til blessed immobility
wholly encompassed
slithering, sliding
in full poetic bloom
“… tilled hearts…” I’ll have to think about this for a while… :).
wholly encompassed
slithering, sliding
in full poetic bloom…
What a triumphant finish! Lovely.
I can see them, feel them rummaging….love that word. I think of my peas and corn I planted day before yesterday…they are rummaging, seeking room…far from fruit, but thinking of it. May the seeds of my tilled heart be always aware why they are rummaging.
7, I love the word rummaging too!!!
“Seed grow in tilled hearts”….I love that!
The Gardener
Your seeds
have grown
into sightly tulips
Her petals wave
fluttering, from
wayward winds
Oh, lovely!
Truly enchanting!
Perfect. Beauty in the wind.
On Planting…
If you plant peas, my dear
You will not get beets
The fruit that will sprout
Is the off-spring of seeds
…just as in life
Deeds are seeds of fruit
We cannot plant evil
And expect to reap good
Can’t wait to return and read…
YES!!! 🙂 !
Morning, Janet, wonderful to see you this morning!
Thank-you Ben and Hen! Seems there are other ‘gardens’ requiring my time lately…bittersweet torment:)
🙂 Lucky you! 🙂
Yes, indeed!:) Thank-you
How true 🙂 good to see you sowing in the garden.
Benjamin
Janet,
yes…sweetly said. It made me think of things I wanted to plant this year, but just no room….my garden space is limited, so I’d better make the best of it, huh? No bad seeds. Ever.
Seeds-R-Us
By: Meena Rose
Two positions to fill,
We are seeking creative
Lateral thinkers who
Will help seed and
Nurture innovations
In the Silicon Forest.
I contemplated the job
Post wondering if I
Was a creative lateral
Thinker and could I
Possibly help bring other
People’s seeds to fruition.
I gazed back at a lifetime
Of experiences and setbacks;
Infusing will into the seed
So life may renew itself
One more time; each seedling
Spawning others along the way.
Was I truly a fit incubator, a
Proper nurturer to be entrusted
With someone else’s fragile seed
Of an idea or innovation? I stared
At my hands; I could not tell if
My thumbs were green or black.
I closed my eyes and smiled
For a new seed had begun to
Sparkle, shimmer and gleam. It
Fought hard against a sea of
Glittering seeded potential to
Say pick me.
I carefully picked the seed up
And breathed life into it
Fanning its inner glow; quickly
The seed started to thrive reflecting
Its luminous glow on its neighbors;
I think I found it: my own catalyst seed.
http://meenarose.wordpress.com/2012/05/02/prompted-wednesdays-of-vacuums-and-seeds/
Beautiful!!! In life, we just never know…
Henrietta, thank you!
Lovely thing, consideration…the edge of decision on which our movements lie.
It is indeed sometimes I am blessed when I notice it.
Thought provoking…very nice.
Thank you Kelly!
[…] for Poetic Bloomings Prompt #53: Returning To The Soil Echo this:FacebookEmailTwitterStumbleUponPinterestLike this:LikeBe the first […]
DEEP CALLS UNTO DEEP
seed sown into fertile soil;
dark, rich earth
damp from the moisture below,
warmed by the sun above
deep calls unto this seed
to be more than itself;
the depth of its potential
yet to be realized
2012-05-02
P. Wanken
“… to be more than itself; the depth of its potential yet to be realized.” You speak for all us human “beans”. :)!
What Hen said…yes! and in the first stanza you remind us how dark and light coalesce to produce the bloom! Beautiful!
Yes P. An unseen sun warms us, and we meet it when we sprout.
Paula, “deep calls” indeed – and you punned – elegantly, by the way, with “depth of its potential”. Lovely.
Richard
Nice. Especially “the depth of its potential
yet to be realized”…so true of every living thing!
Inspired by two massive, aged, wise trees I noticed on a beautiful evening.
Wise Trees
On the nightside, parked
tucked in the shadow
I took courage at seeing
your gorgeous crown,
dense dimensions,
fullness of wisdom
of your elegant roots.
Your presence
so charming
draws me closer
within the limits
of your
massive frondescence
please fold me closer
wrap me tightly
with your wise
winged boughs
I beg you, branch deeply
into the chambers
of my heart and
fill me with your
stability
THIS is Gorgeous!!! I LOVE trees!!!
Me too, I can’t seem to get away from them. Totally enjoying this prompt. Thx.
I agree, there is something very provocative about trees..So many life-applications too! Enjoyed this one very much, Benjamin.
Mike! Love this…I am on the verge of trying this form. You did this excellently, and it reminded me of our church garden…a community garden we plant twice a year for any and all to partake from. People don’t know us by name…they say ‘oh, that’s the garden church.’ That’s how we like it
Love the haiku’s above too….
Oops..posted this on wrong poem. This was for Mike’s piece below.
Benjamin,
Love the great trees too…felt your longing there to be filled by their solid strength. Well done.
Benjamin, those last five lines are beautiful.
Richard
Much thanks to Henrietta, Mr. Walker, SevenAcreSky, and Janet!
Trees are the stability of the garden. Be back later…:)
So much to be learned from trees. Very nice.
Haiku on Seed (3)
I am only seed.
You are fertile ground and rain.
Together we grow.
~ ~ ~
From a single seed
enough good can multiply
to nourish the world
~ ~ ~
Dandelion fur
left alone in natures hands
will yield a bounty
~ ~ ~
By Michael Grove
Loved these words: “…From a single seed enough good can multiply to nourish the world”. And, “Dandelion fur”.
Waxing poetic I see Michael. This is awesome.
Love it…the last one made me smile considering the season:)
Wonderful!
The Beggars
A handful was all he had.
A simply special seed.
The beggars were all glad.
He grew enough to feed.
A simply special seed.
Please multiply and grow.
He grew enough to feed.
At first he had to sow.
Please multiply and grow.
Share what you shall reap.
At first he had to sow.
At last he had to weep.
Share what you shall reap.
A handful was all he had.
At last he had to weep.
The beggars were all glad.
By Michael Grove
Lovely, Michael…
Profound…and a pantoum? well done.
Back to the Potting Shed
The best laid plans
of Poets and Weasels
(like a dreadful case of measles)
have gone, if not agly,
then at the least
a bit skew-whiffly
The time has come
the ball-fan said
to howl of many things:
of chips, of booze,
of stealing third,
of hot dogs,
and wings.
Did Byron Shelley
and our man, Keats
suffer such ignoble defeats?
Tales are not given forth,
Cry God! Harry, I’m getting hoarse!
So lead us up the garden path
and slyly pass the old bird bath,
sneak into the potting shed
and lay upon the old camp bed,
muse and ponder for a while,
about what words
this old world needs
and when at last the time is nigh,
leap up to plant some fresh
new seeds.
Iain
Hear! Hear! Love it, esp. the imagery in the last stanza.
Thanks!!! 🙂
Love it…esp ‘laying upon the old camp bed, muse and ponder for a while’
I spent…I purchased rather, with a dollar of determination to let other things wait…a long moment in the hammock yesterday under singing birds and sliding clouds. What great moments for words to come to you. Thanks, Iain, for confirming that moment for me.
Happy to help, thank you so much 🙂
Yes… let other things wait… while resting in a lovely hammock!
“So lead us up the garden path… muse and ponder for a while, about what words this old world needs…” :)!!!
Thank-you Walt and Marie,
Their kind words fall
Soft, whispered seeds
Into a fallow plot
They sprout
Creating poetry
From gathering of thought
Kind words are seeds
They strip the weeds
That fain would choke the flower
They nurture where
Bleak, dark despair
Would seek to over-power
Translucent seeds
Kind words inspire
A universal garden
Where poetry
Blooms rampantly
Beneath love’s tender pardon
Ah, sweet…soft…gentle…kind….true.
Lovely, Janet.
Thank-you:)
Yes… beauty inspired…
THE LANGUAGE OF POETRY
From little seeds came prompts, came poems,
those few they gathered, coming home,
and they were of many speech but one language.
Lines they spoke in colours rich,
stitching words, quilting poems they wrote,
and they were of many speech but one language.
Layer on layer of delicate sounds,
rhyming beats of meter found,
and they were of many speech but one language.
Poetic floors, poetic walls,
stanzas hung as softly falling shawls,
and they were of many speech but one language.
A house, a home, a poetic hearth,
those that gathered, coming home,
and they were of many speech but one language.
The Language of Poetry
Beautiful Misk, Nice work of art here. Love your title, it speaks volumes!
Thank you, Benjamin. 🙂
Yes, and loved especially: “…stitching words, quilting words they wrote,…”
Oops… “quilting poems they wrote,…”
I enjoyed the patchwork of poetry…especially “stanzas hung as softly falling shawls”
Gardening with Dad
Tommy trailed Dad down garden rows
He watched Dad plant each tiny seed
He longed to see how a plant grows
That would explain his naughty deed
He watched Dad plant each tiny seed
His plan seemed right just at the time
That would explain his naughty deed
Felt innocent of any crime
His plan seemed right just at the time
To take a look see underground
Felt innocent of any crime
As Tommy plunged his shovel down
To take a look see underground
We’re just the same way with God’s plans
As Tommy plunged his shovel down
With worry we too upturn plants
We’re just the same way with God’s plans
We question how His Word comes true
With worry we too upturn plants
And what a childish thing to do!
We question how His Word comes true
Instead of trusting in His grace
And what a childish thing to do!
Let’s keep His promises in place
So let us trust in His good grace
And follow Dad down garden rows
Let’s keep His promises in place
And see how each plant surely grows
YES!!!
I have been so, so busy, and I’ve missed my PB group. I will try to catch up.
Where Growth Begins
When you feel likes smiling
don’t hide it.
Smile, so others know.
When tunes start stirring
don’t squelch them,
Drum or hum, make a show,
When doubts come,
don’t dwell on them.
Push them aside, let them go.
When an idea comes
don’t dismiss it.
Fuel it and let it grow!
© KED 2012
KELLY!!! Missed you! Love the smile, smile, smile… sing, sing, sing to push the doubts away!!! 🙂 🙂 🙂 !!!
Bonsai Blooms
( Click or paste link to see picture http://wp.me/p1OZDf-3Z)
My little
Dwarfed beauty
twisted
dazzling
dangling
crimson barrettes
sport
with
sturdy branches
splashed
in
fuschia
splendor
well
emblazoned
wearing
calm
Bonsai blooms
Just soo bright and lovely!!!
Verdant
I have a brown thumb
I kill plants
I don’t mean to
It just happens
So, you should probably
keep seeds away from me
Words are my soil
That’s where I plant
Some are forests
November novels
Some a clump of trees
an adapted screenplay
Some a bush
leaves on each side
of the branches
stanzas of couplets
Some a blade of grass
a haiku
These are my seeds
I share them with you
Plant them in your fertile soil
your imagination
That would make me happy
and maybe you too
That green
that is our life
Oh, I like this!
Very nice.
[…] week on Poetic Bloomings we have several things to do. The prompt suggests we write a seed poem. To know what that refers to, go on over. Then we have a form, the pantoum, one of my all-time […]
Dandelion moon
Now that you have failed, my friend,
now that you have fought and cried,
and close-kissed death , you are ready.
Tonight, what once blazed gold on a
sea of sun is beautiful again, become
a pirate mast flashing silver at the moon.
For upon this grey-swept beach we are all washed,
drunk on disorder – quavering oaks bowing
final prayers over our work as it floats away.
Somewhere, this cloud of silk will find new
ground and astonish. So let the skies descend, and
damn the consequences. Every shipwreck is a seed.
Love that “Dandelion moon” title… and thinking about how “every shipwreck is a seed”…
[…] Northern Arizona More Postcards from Paradise at Recuerda Mi Corazon More Poetic Bloomings: “Returning to the Soil” More Straight Out of the Camera Sunday More Sunday Scribblings: “Wild” […]
[…] Mystical Teacher Photo: An iris in bloom, Hubbell Trading Post, Ganado, Arizona More Poetic Bloomings: “Returning to the Soil” More Straight Out of the Camera Sunday More Sunday Scribblings: “Wild” […]
We are a fantastic garden, friends!