Our roots run deep. And the foundation they provide give us our grounding as the people we are or strive to become. That is evident in the poetry posted this week, as it has been since we have started this project. Whether we wrote about our “mother land” or our ancestral home, or even if our relationship with a specific land is unknown to us, we continued to give our poetry  our maximum effort.


I’d like to welcome our newest “Bloomer,” Andra-Teodora Negroiu, with the honor of a Beautiful Bloom for “Braided Strands.”  Andra explains, “I was born in Romania, immigrated to the US with my family, then came back after some time. I believe my personal heritage is a mix of the people and experiences encountered in both of these countries – my roots are neither here, nor there.”  Her poem is exquisitely penned – rich in lovely allegory, subtle rhyme, and full of what grew her roots.  Superb work, Andra.  Welcome to Poetic Bloomings.

Braided Strands (by Andra-Teodora Negroiu)

I am a rope bridge straddling the Atlantic
my palms cocooned within Michigan’s water,
my Black Sea heels pivotally implanted.

Two inverse lands made me their curious daughter,
their colors wound around my fragile guardrails,
my hybrid blood besprinkled with saltwater.

These braided rope-strands hold my Ole’mamma’s tales,
my father’s idiosyncratic manner,
my Schwabisch Ole’pappa’s talent for details,

the segments of my first-grade daily planner,
my first friend’s zany, enthusiastic grin,
my first achievements on a paper banner,

the tilt Grandmother impressed upon my chin,
the lank reveries to which my kin are prone,
the veil around my mother’s cameo pin,

firm bonds with a language mirroring my own,
a sum of inciting scholarly demands,
the way north-eastern rain infiltrates each bone.

Straddling inverse shores, my oddly-braided strands
course along imprints of these assorted hands.

© Andra-Teodora Negroiu, 2012


This piece struck me as a playful little piece of down home charm. It paints a portrait of Eire that delights, with brush strokes that add texture and plenty of color. (It didn’t hurt that it mentioned “redheaded dolls,” major points there 😉 !)

But in all seriousness, this is a voice that week in  and out presents consistently good work and has been deserving of recognition. This week the accolade is all hers. Laurie Kolp, accept this week’s Bloom!

LUCK OF THE IRISH (by Laurie Kolp)

Emerald eyes, the isle
where you kiss the Blarney Stone,
flattery the pattering
of eyelashes, shy-
a rosy blush on ivory skin.

You dance jigs with leprechauns
through miles of clovered fields,
hoping good luck might cover up
ill-tempered streaks

that appear in briny air
faster than the changing tides
a slap of water, frothy suds
drown, one’s own confessional
a cure-all, redheaded dolls
who frown upon the word NO,
so up the ante on the charm.


Congratulations to Andra and Laurie. And a humble Thank You to all our poets for your extraordinary work, and your supportive and nurturing nature. (Or is that naturing nurture?) You all make this “garden” the beautiful place where poetry blossoms. Marie and I appreciate your contributions.