PROMPT #329 – HEAD IN A CLOUD

Springtime approaches and at last we can get out and enjoy it (soon enough anyway). Today we offer this flower cloud of words. And no better topic to explore in this garden than tending our garden. Use whatever words that move you and write what we used to call “Beautiful Blooms”! Plant your verbal seeds and see what grows.

MARIE’S VERBAL BOUQUET:

Bloom confidently.
Even breeze-scattered seed is
rooted by God’s breath.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

WALT’S PLANTING:

WAITING IN THE SHADE

It takes great patience
to wait in the shade after
making room for your blooms to blossom.
You’ve cleared the leaves
of autumns past, those that have lasted
through the winter. They scatter now
in the winds of this new spring. 
The thing is, you’ve shed your seeds
to water and nurture; to grow hearty
as much as they will grow in your heart
of dreams and illusions.  Their intrusion
into the world will be most welcome. 
To pick and pluck, to harvest as each
aromatic flowering rose or delicious vegetable 
comes to ripen. Still, you hearken,
always waiting in the shade 
for love to grow, a bountiful feast for all!

© Walter J Wojtanik - 2021

122 thoughts on “PROMPT #329 – HEAD IN A CLOUD

  1. PERENNIAL PEACE

    Flowers
    are angelic living beings
    rooted in soil

    Forever
    flowering symbols
    of perennial peace

    Simply
    at ease
    in their ambiance

    Electing
    not to soil
    itself

    With
    the affairs
    of this life

    Or
    riddled
    by anxiety

    One part
    stretching downward
    into the black

    Not knowing
    exactly where
    to go

    Yet
    knowing exactly
    what it lacks

    Happily
    hunting rich
    nutrient

    The upward
    part
    bounding

    Assurgently
    seeking
    favor

    Dashing
    brillance
    of shining star

    Gulping
    golden-laden
    rays

    Benjamin Thomas

  2. THE CELESTIAL FAMILY

    I marvel at the miracle
    of nature. Such as our celestial
    star-sun, preening down towards her earthly neighbor; as if searching for that one lost coin. Sweeping to and fro, back and forth, diligently, until she finds it.

    She is most heavenly in nature. Supremely majestic in countenance. Highly renowned in her rays,
    sporting an illustrious crown.

    The dazzling flower of the earth, on the other hand—seems lowly in status, humbled in position. Restrained and tethered to the dirt, who seems to rescind its glory, or renders it inert, at will.

    A perennial beast, but vulnerable to the subtleness of decay. Yet, upward, she seeks the heavenly ray far, far, away. Pursuing the illustrious crown of her majestic star. Eagerly coveting her every favor, basking in her refulgent light.

    The primrose, elegant dahlias, the lily of the valley, hyacinth. Lavender, Shasta daisies, gladiolus, hibiscus, and daylily. They all seem to correspond to the celestial bodies, as if derived from the same celestial family. As if, created by trailing stardust left here for us to marvel at, testify of its magnificence. Its story.

    Benjamin Thomas

  3. Okay, my AMAZING poetic pard: Your creative mind never ceases to amaze me. You had me at the title, and I enjoyed every moment, every line, every rhyme, and all the subtleties that are ever-present in your poetic voice.

    Good morning, and happy Sunday! ❤

  4. On John 12:24

    Seed potatoes shelter in the car trunk
    away from mice, pounds in their Kraft bags
    ready to be cut an eye to the wedge

    buffet drawers sheltering packets
    of seeds vegetable and flower
    his hers ours plus in the breezeway

    two hundred fifty onion sets
    counted out by hand white
    and red ready to set come

    St. Patrick’s day leaf lettuce
    and spinach to sow in the old
    half whiskey barrels held together

    by rain and swell their slipped
    staves and slats on last legs
    morning’s scripture reminding

    how a grain of wheat must die
    or it remains just a seed with
    no yield no bounty so we too

    will bend to mud and shovel
    scatter seed in warming soil
    to emerge as new life to feed

    the hungry depending upon
    area food pantries our own dying
    to self in gardening and giving.

  5. Heavenly Earth

    At 77, he’s feeling,
    free to plant
    whatever he desires,
    free to create a world
    he’ll not see mature,
    free to be the all-father
    of his environment,
    free to be the seeds, the mulch,
    the water, sun and shade,
    even as he knows he’ll miss
    the ultimate harvest,
    still pruning and weeding,
    still talking to his seedlings,
    thinking of Saint Francis, who,
    when asked what he might do
    if he knew it was his last day of life, said
    he’d finish raking the garden.

  6. What We Remember

    We always bought him a
    Pansy
    for Father’s Day – his favorite little flower
    Petals
    of purple, white, and yellow smiling up at him
    in a
    flat from the garden center that he would plant in the
    muddy
    garden at the front of his house because nothing else would bloom in a
    puddle

    #waltmarie

  7. Inspired by one of the best pieces of advice I’ve received regarding married life.

    “You have to take care of the garden, or it will become a jungle.”

    MAINTAINING THE GARDEN

    Take care of the garden planted
    lest it become a running jungle;
    and you become badly bitten,
    by the harsh beasts of bitterness,
    succumb to the slithering snakes of deceit.

    Plant the good seed of loving-kindness;
    affectionately nurture its young green saplings,
    strengthen its weak, shallow, roots with care.

    Take care of the garden planted
    lest it become a running jungle;
    overcome by fierce insurgent weeds,
    overrun by needless internal strifes,
    overburdened by heavy, urgent, needs.

    Trim its unruly misshapen hedges;
    prune its damaged uncomely limbs,
    scale back its insistent, invasive, vines.

    Take care of the garden planted
    lest it become a running jungle;
    riddled with tiny offensive critters,
    awash with swinging barbaric apes.

    Take care of the garden planted…

    Benjamin Thomas

  8. Little Miracle

    seed to stem
    greenery breaks soil
    leaves wave in soft breezes
    whispers on nothing at all
    noting on an overcast day
    it’s just before spring
    the young plant
    reached upward
    to tear through
    a veil of clouds

    Mike Bayles

  9. Little Miracle (revised)

    seed to stem
    greenery breaks soil
    leaves wave in soft breezes
    whispers of nothing at all
    noting on an overcast day
    it’s spring
    the young plant
    reaches upward
    to tear through
    a veil of clouds

    Mike Bayles

    • I was going to comment on your first version, when my eye was drawn to see that you had revised it. It is just fascinating, seeing the revision by a skilled poet of an already lovely poem. Nothing short of grand, this. I’m glad the original was posted here, Mike. Wonderful work!

  10. Only vaguely is this poem connected to the prompt, but it’s subject is on my mind this time of year especially.

    Visiting the Cemetery at Springtime
    or alternately
    Garden of Decay

    I laid down next to you in the sunshine
    Feeling the heaving of the earth
    And wishing I could sink down under the grass and soil
    Into the cold ground to sleep with you
    Rotting bones and sinew
    While insects devour my flesh and brain
    At peace and happy in our decay
    Underneath the yellow flower halo crown
    I brought as some kind of apology for
    The years I spent avoiding this place
    I found your tombstone overgrown and abandoned
    Neglected like the childhood we shared
    Or like the emptiness in my chest that I’ve never been able to fill without you
    Guilt feels like bile retched from deep inside of me
    Caught and burning in the back of my throat
    The utter loneliness and despair of this place consumes me
    Encircled in a sea of broken dreams
    And dried up flowers and haunted longing
    I dream of leaving it all behind to follow you

  11. NO ONE ELSE LIKE HER

    She appeared
    suddenly
    in a dream

    whorled clean
    head to toe
    in flame lily garb

    Her presence
    was wholly
    intoxicating

    Robed
    in sunset
    orange petals

    elegantly
    draping
    Her upper body

    Her scent
    aptly armed
    with essential oils

    of the
    lush lavender
    variety

    punctuating
    the power
    of Her lure

    leg length
    teal-mint
    sepals

    completed
    the covering
    of Her nakedness

    like
    a glade green
    calyx worn dress

    enveloping
    Her viable
    shapeliness

    Her beauty
    broke
    the silence

    into song
    screaming
    Aubrieta violet

    Her stark
    emerald-esque
    steady gaze

    set
    Artic-hearts
    ablaze

    and
    there was
    no one else like Her

    Benjamin Thomas

  12. MY HEAD IS IN THE CLOUDS

    Sometimes my head
    is in the clouds
    like a vast mist of vapor

    till my thoughts divulge
    into heavy grey bouts
    of rainfall

    My mind paying obeisance
    unto the stoic
    laws of gravity

    the drizzle mostly
    insubstantial
    or hardly noticed

    But sometimes
    a legitimate
    dire downpour

    my speculation
    splattering about
    like mud

    sweeping across plains
    and scattering
    like milk-duds

    hopefully
    producing pansies
    or food like vegetables

    retrieve a handy hoe
    sturdy shovel
    and pry up the earth

    you might discover
    indistinct buried bulbs
    of flowers

    introspective
    roots actively
    burrowing

    beyond the superficiality
    of mulch
    diving deeper

    Hopefully becoming
    tomorrow’s budding blooms
    posing as mahogany’s roses

    Benjamin Thomas

  13. Spring in the Panhandle

    It’s never really ever winter here
    Like where I grew up in Northern Maine
    In Florida it’s spring and then summer
    Then fall, and fall, and fall again

    It seems the trees are quite confused
    One day they’re full, the next they’re bare
    The slightest wavering of the temperature
    Makes these stupid trees shed everywhere

    We rake the leaves in late January
    Then the trees grow new leaves once more
    In February the winds blows chilly
    And more leaves pile outside our door

    It warms, and again we raked them
    New spring leaves will take their place
    Then the temperature might dip to forty
    Now they’ll fall at an accelerated pace

    In March we rake them up again
    Hoping in April on the trees they will stay
    But if we happen to get a weird cold snap
    We’ll be raking them again in May

  14. THE CHORUS OF THE DAWN

    A cast of Robins, the garden Warbler, and Eurasian Wren,
    collectively, commence the beauty of day again—
    their medley and melody, heard in full birdsong, the chorus of the dawn,
    inspires daystar, and welcomes the passions of the Sun.

    She doesn’t hesitate, hem and haw, at the uprising in the East
    but is well pleased, yet again, to set the earth ablaze,
    unleash her will, its solar scents, her hot-blooded sunrays,
    to fully dissipate the smoke of night—and to keep the black at bay.

    Benjamin Thomas

  15. THE FALL FROM GRACE

    Drifting side to side
    meandering
    in the midst of swaying breezes

    Reluctant leaves
    fall from grace
    surrendering begrudgingly

    utterly befuddled
    as they depart their place
    when the season seizes

    Faithful remnants
    contemplate their agony
    and lifelong service to the crown.

    Once perched about
    upon the lofty places
    but now humbled to the ground

    Once a plush fern-green
    However now they flee
    transformed into dirty-brown

    Drifting side to side
    meandering
    in the midst of swaying breezes

    Reluctant leaves
    fall from grace
    surrendering begrudgingly

    Benjamin Thomas

Plant your poem or comment here!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s