The Darling Buds – Forget Me Not

Does the land remember

what came before?

there were forests here once

and after them fields

this little corner now that is

filled with small flowers

how short is the life

of that garden

compared to all of the land’s forms

and yet-

a thousand years from now

maybe this small part of the world

will dream of blue flowers

and be at peace

Forget-Me-Not: Memories

Every May (and sometimes into June), I do a series of poems based on Victorian flower meanings. Welcome to the Darling Buds.


For more memories and persistence, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

The Darling Buds – Cherry Blossoms

Each spring is a classroom

every growing thing shyly emerging

to be taught

the air rich with the scent of learning

of new growth finding

water and sun and sky

hair thick with cherry blossoms

each spring wipes away the old year

and teaches us

hope

Cherry Blossoms – Education

Every May, I do a series of poems based on Victorian flower meanings. Welcome to the Darling Buds.


For more hope and learning, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

The Darling Buds – Marigold

When everything else has died

the marigolds are planted

their leaves too bitter for insects

or maybe they are supposed to be grown

with the crops to protect them

rather than being left

to bloom merrily

amongst the sick-sweet

stench of their rotting

companions

Marigold – Sorrow

Marigolds survive but make it impossible to forget those that did not. Every May, I do a series of poems based on Victorian flower meanings. Welcome to the Darling Buds.


For more tales of survival in the face of sorrow, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

The Darling Buds – Forsythia

Long winters birth meek springs

Buds and blossoms slow to unfurl

cautiously feel their way through the still

frozen nights

But

sandwiched between the forest and the field

there is an explosion

forsythia

rising golden and unafraid

It lives in the future, fearless with

Joy at the tips of branches

Joy as a perfume in the air

Joy in the willingness to stare into the face

of the unknown

and blossom

Forsythia – Anticipation

Every May (and sometimes fashionably late in May because of a lack of blossoms), I do a series of poems based on Victorian flower meanings. Welcome to the Darling Buds.


For more anticipation in the face of danger, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Sleeping and Waking

Do they dream

those not yet opened buds?

Before there are flowers

do the slow-unfurling petals

imagine the face

of the sun?

What do the buds know of the world they are about to enter?

I’m always fascinated by the giant leap between development and living.


For more waking to mysterious worlds, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Sunny Daze

The woman didn’t plant the sunflowers the second year

The first year

she had tilled and let them settle and

in the fall

the birds came

and

as the weather worsened

the birds tore through the seeds

and spit out the pieces

to rise the next spring

in the fallow field

The moral of the story

of course

being that

Birds in bad weather will hock together.

(I’m not ashamed.)

IMG_2166Well, maybe I’m a little ashamed.

Sometimes you just have to commit puns. I make no excuses.


For more terrible puns, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Growing Forwards

There were people and then there weren’t

The land a stripped wound

Left by their passage

Some things return and

Some things don’t

We still grow

We breathe

In the sun

The taste of

Joy

IMG_1975Joy is brilliant and fiercely fought

Damage is not destroyed but incorporated into the life that follows.


For more joy and growth from damage, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Of Impossibilities (And Other Trellises)

So many people speak of things that can’t happen

In hushed tones of sincere smugness

That we decided to soothe

One of the smaller impossibilities

A minor god

In a major pantheon of

Closed doors

Our soil – infertile

Our weather – inhospitable

The first year even the crab grass retreated

It is a slow wooing

Of small things that shouldn’t be

Manure, trellises, and time

There is bedrock beneath us

And still these small blossoms

Open their impossible hearts

IMG_1997Persistence is the mother of possibility

Impossible dreams must be carefully tended.


For more persistence, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

Cartography

Flowers don’t start in segregation

Our seeding was as balanced -and foolish-

As any ignorant gardener of the masses

The plants are shaped by the land

And the land shapes them

The war of the white roses

Claiming the wettest corner

While the thin line of flag

Irises

Holds firm to the sun

IMG_1484A beautiful map of invisible conflict

This is not actually metaphorical. Note: Don’t ever try to move rose bushes.


For more zones of conflict, invisible and otherwise, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

The Darling Buds- Lupin

As the heat rises,

Heavy in our throats and hearts,

So we take our bow,

Our bold palette laid before you,

A tapestry of hope and possibilities.

Shall we blanket the meadows,

Our seed on every rise?

Shall we burn under the sun,

Under the inescapable light?

Let us lay out the final hand before you

Our passage from the possibility,

From the half-formed dreams of spring,

To something fixed and final.

Let us pass boldly,

Our blossoms as loud as our hopes,

Let us pass from spring’s possibility to

Warm reality

Pass into

Summer’s unknown future.

IMG_1348Lupin- Imagination

Every May (and sometimes, the first week of June), I do a series of poems based on Victorian flower meanings. Welcome to the Darling Buds.


For more hard won wisdom, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.