It’s a big surprise waking this Saturday to find Marie missing in action and me taking her place. She had taken ill and we hope she’s feeling much better by this posting. But the reason we are here is to celebrate poetry and the poets who propose it. It’s been a while since I had this task and the one thing that came back to flood my memories was just how hard a task this is. All of our poets are so talented and expressive; we appreciate your efforts in making Poetic Bloomings the loving garden it is. Speaking of being “In The Garden”…


In reading this week’s poems, I get the sense of exactly what this place means to you all as well. We plant the seeds of this poetic process and your care and nurturing put into words as your poems are all beautifully grown here. The poem that struck me heartily is actually a two-part poem. Taken from the children’s rhyme, our poem givens two sides of the loving process our Creator presents us. “Roses are Red; Violets are Blue, Sal Buttaci, I love your poem” It earns you my Beautiful Bloom:

1. ROSES ARE RED by Salvatore Buttaci

their petals soaked in flower blood
because when they first bloomed
in the first garden that first week
they stood in stemmed rows
asking God the Gardener to give them
beating hearts as He had given
the beasts of land and sea
beating hearts so they would know
life’s painful sacrifice enough
to shed blood when these hearts
would sometimes break
just as He had kindly given them
the dew of tears to shed each morning
as sadly they would long for
the brightness of the dawn
beating hearts to pump blood
that could be shed
this is what these roses asked
and God the Gardener was moved
by their flower prayer
but He wanted that at least
they be spared what pain would come
when Eden was no more
so He compromised and soaked
their white petals in the blood
of His own Son that would be shed
somewhere in time

2. VIOLETS ARE BLUE by Salvatore Buttaci

as if their petals were open hands
gathering into themselves the secret
of the sky and sea
as if strong-stemmed they stood
despite the wind to say their peace
how much their petals yearned for blue
to capture the wildness of the waves
to embody all of what was heaven
how small was their request from a God
Who could do all things
give us the strength of your heaven
give us the majesty of your seas
simple violets are we
let us praise you
and God the Gardener was moved
by their flower prayer
but He wanted to spare at least
these His creatures from
all that sky and sea entail
and so He compromised
took a painter’s brush
with which He soaked their petals
in the richness of His blue
and when His art was then complete
He marveled at the way these violets
these loving creatures He had made
would bob their blue heads towards
His infinite heaven
how they would bow their blue heads
towards His majestic sea


For me, this simple poem expresses the complexity of love. Love, that is, far beyond the love of spouses or friends; love extending to unknown and unnamed others who might chance along a path and see a flower. I think it extends also to love for the whole creation, here represented by a single flower. Finally, it deals with love in the mature sense: that is, love capable of looking beyond the moment to something more permanent beyond, in this case, the sadness that would have ensued when the flower died. Simple, yet profound: that’s how this poem impressed me. Hence this proffered bloom.


I saw a flower along my path
Beautifully bloomed
With heavenly fragrance
I stopped to touch its petals
And experience its scent
And thought about picking it
For you

I left it where it grew
For all who walk that path
To enjoy its beauty
And fragrance

For if I had picked it
You would have enjoyed it
For but a day or so
Before it died
And when dead and limp
It would make you sad
That I had picked it
For you


For my Bloom this week, I choose Erin Kay’s ‘Dance of the Gingerbread Cookies.’  It was at once a tasty, sweet, nostalgic childlike, dreamlike poem that had a perfect ending.
It brought back memories of my own two kids, and the fun and magic of the Holiday season.

Dance of the Gingerbread Cookies

The Gingerbreads have come to dance tonight:
With candy eyes and icing sugar clothes,
Oh what a wondrous, scrumptious, darling sight
They make, all dancing sweetly – there one goes!

The Gingerbreads have danced the night away:
So, out of breath, they climb back into bed;
As morning heralds in the light of day
They’re fast asleep with blankets overhead…

The child in her pj’s taps her chin:
“Why have the Gingerbreads all grown so thin?”

© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

On that note, I bid to all a good night!
Merry Christmas!  Happy New Year!  Best Wishes for a safe and joyful season of celebration!