Magnolias (a haiku)

 

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So much is said by

Magnolias climbing , striving

Into April skies

 

 

 

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Daffodils (a tanka)

 

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Rain shatters deep earth

Roots burst yellow perfection

Long awaited blooms

Arabesque before the sun

April healing winter’s cold

flowers 6 - Copy

** Note: Inspired by T.S. Eliot’s ‘The Wasteland’.

“April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.”  
Happy National Poetry Month!

Lilacs in November

 

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I live in the Midwestern United States. Clearly the Northern Hemisphere. It is definitely autumn  here, and lilacs only ever bloom in May. And yet.

Here is what I find.

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A while back I wrote a story about Persephone, the Underworld and reversed seasons.  But I did not think it would actually happen 🙂

I’ll take it, gladly!

Give them some crystal energy…

lilac-7

 

We can always use a bit of spring in November 🙂

fairy water pd

A Quest

 

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A QUEST

Defined by listlessness I seek                                                                                                             the lonely evening as yellow                                                                                                            bellwort lowers its

head in the meadow, giving                                                                                                             faith to a brazen  day.                                                                                                                           How I long to dispatch myself

straight  and hard to the                                                                                                                          humongous                                                                                                                                     whirl of purple sky!

But no.                                                                                                                                                       I am human. Weak. Ignorant. Foolish.                                                                                          Nothing but a noddy.

I sigh in physical haughtiness                                                                                                                 and  wait                                                                                                                                                for a new break of day.

purple sky

 

This poem is in response to Bojenn’s poetry challenge

https://bonniegjennings.wordpress.com/2016/05/20/a-poetry-challenge-by-bojenn/