one for your boutonnière
or two weeks by
the convalescent’s bedside
instead
you adorn me with
a showy rose
that withers
by the hour
Tag: flowers
Autumn on Summer’s Heels
purple asters arc
radiantly
from oak trees
acorns hang heavy
and drop
underfoot
on the last gust
of summer wind
the hummingbirds
arrive
and make haste
Roses Behind Closed Eyes
You ask me to tell you of the roses in my garden
Instead of colors or the sunlight
I ask you to close your eyes so I can whisper
Of the heady scent that lines my driveway
The crunch of gravel the only sound
As petals brush across bare shoulders
You ask me to tell you of the roses in my garden;
They’ve overgrown like a runaway dream.
[Fiction] Angie’s Boot
Angie, who grew up with nothing, hoarded all that she could around her desert home. Her stretch of pale grass became an oasis: a refuge for small skittering legs and dormice in the dark. When her husband left her, she took his old work boot and filled it with rich dirt. The cacti flourished and bloomed in their new pot. Six months later, she looked again at the shoe and it was only the flowers that she saw.
Love Without an Expiration Date
The Enchantress
gave the Beast
the painting of a rose
which would never shed
a single petal
She said,
“Love does not keep
a schedule
nor does it hurry.”
Daffodil on a Hill
Yellow daffodil lonesome on its hill
Yet still each morning has the strength of will
To tilt a smile towards another solo friend
For camaraderie is but a moment’s hardship to lend
To a sun that dances with its arms around the air
Always joyful and heedless of the stares
Of those caustic lonesomes in twos or threes
Clutched to each other as if so desperately
Fighting to lose their own beautiful singularities.
Dandelion
Even the most
rigidly cared for lawns
have a few yellow-faced dandelions
Hibernation
Blown wishes that soar away
Courtship
A besotted bee
dances with one small flower
among the ivy
As You Nap
On the hill I’ll fetch a pail
of yellow-tipped daisies.
And by the sea I’ll gather shells
pastel-shaded, willy-nilly.
By your leisure
By your pleasure
My aim soars and dashes
to gather, sweet coalescence,
on your trembling sleep-tugged lashes.
Mother’s Lavender
Give me a pocket of lavender
Is what I bid as you run out to play
And before the sun sets
I’ll anticipate the sway
Of your proud little body
On its way home
RED GLADIOLA 