Close your eyes and breath.
The jasmine ...
gardenia...
magnolia...
honeysuckle...
fills the air with scent.
Breath deep.
Savor.
The garden outside is warm.
The jasmine ...
gardenia...
magnolia...
honeysuckle...
fills the air with scent.
Breath deep.
Savor.
The garden outside is warm.
Beneath the trees is perfection.
Quiet.
Restful.
Leaf shadowed shade.
Red cardinals call chip chip.
Blue jays add their bugled notes.
Mockingbirds race to feed their nested young.
Butterfly wings color the air.
Nothing is pressing right now.
Quiet.
Restful.
Leaf shadowed shade.
Red cardinals call chip chip.
Blue jays add their bugled notes.
Mockingbirds race to feed their nested young.
Butterfly wings color the air.
Nothing is pressing right now.
I will go and sit outside.
Watch, embrace this beauty.
Cherish now the temporal glories of spring.
Arms and legs glisten with Deep Woods Off.
Cherish now the temporal glories of spring.
Arms and legs glisten with Deep Woods Off.
Mosquitoes rejoice in Springtime too.
They feast upon my forehead.
When Man fell from grace there was consequence: Sweat soaked brow and weeds.
Mosquitoes upon the forehead too?
(Did you know Houston has 55 varieties of them? And that they bite both day and night?)
I surrender. Wheel out my bike, determined to enjoy the fragrant air.
Outside the leafy shade the sun is hot...too hot.
85 degrees, and the day is yet young.
Mosquitoes, heat.
The twin terrors of Texas envelope me.
When Man fell from grace there was consequence: Sweat soaked brow and weeds.
Mosquitoes upon the forehead too?
(Did you know Houston has 55 varieties of them? And that they bite both day and night?)
I surrender. Wheel out my bike, determined to enjoy the fragrant air.
Outside the leafy shade the sun is hot...too hot.
85 degrees, and the day is yet young.
Mosquitoes, heat.
The twin terrors of Texas envelope me.
Unwilling to surrender,
I pluck a gardenia.
I pluck a gardenia.
Add milk dripping star jasmine tendril.
Drape honeysuckle vines within the shallow vase.
Lemony magnolia scent brightens the room encased by windows shut tight against the heat.
The fragrant outside is now brought inside.
Scented treasures in flower form, horded in a crystal vase.
Safe from the heat, trapped within glass, severed, they wither with each passing day.
I (like them) now safe as well,
am also trapped indoors.
Air conditioned air (thrumming like artificial pulse) will serve to keep me
vaguely alive
as I steel myself for summer.
This is but the first month of spring.
I mourn; the season is gone.
There will be eight summer months
to be endured until winter.
(April is National Poetry Month. The writing above is my contribution to the event. )
5 comments:
I love your little ode to the end of spring. How appropriate. Our a/c is running non-stop and makes my head hurt. I don't like heat, nor do I like humidity and insects (especially those that bite...and the ones that have to be washed off your car every single night... grrr).
Anyway, there is a hedge of star jasmine climbing the fence row just outside my bedroom window and I can't open the window to enjoy the scent. There is also a small cluster next to my little patio. I do take my time walking from the front door to the parking lot...inhaling that sweet scent. Ahh.
I like the idea of Jenna Bush's bridal party dresses. Those are some great colors. Perhaps the Bushes have a hothouse-grown (coolhouse?) stash of wildflowers ready to put in the ground for the big event. I can't wait to see the pix. Wonder if they'll be wearing hats?
Oh, my!
It's evocative and beautiful. Well put.
I cant wait to smell the scent of the flowers, mixed with the smell of your hair. Your post brought a bright spot to my crazy day in LA. B
Ode to the end of spring...already? Enjoy your extended summer...and I'll just wait for our spring to finally arrive (it's still feeling a little like winter!)
I can smell those blooms from here!
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