Gaura gossip
cannot wait;
it’s the latest
in click-bait.
To tease the marigold
hovering near,
it’s whispered in
geranium ear.
Good for the garden,
of that I am sure,
gossip so often
a form of manure.
Tag Archives: geranium
July 7.21: Coping
Street art has found a place
in cultural domain;
the spider looks upon it
with the master’s cold disdain.
His webby muse inspires
despite the hours of tedium
to pattern and to form
with gossamer as medium.
In gallery of flowerpots
the moon and sun elide,
performatively joined
on thinnest thready slide.
By night the moon plucks lightly
each string in placid rondo;
by day a somersaulting sun
cavorts in bright glissando.
Known only to the artist
where spinnings stir and start,
sufficient to the self
is ephemera of the art.
So the noiseless patient spider,
in retreat of sweet alyssum,
abjures the common cult
of crass commercialism.
With apologies and thanks to Walt Whitman’s
“A Noiseless Patient Spider.”
August 31.20: Coping
The dark glistens mid-day
and raindrops
the size of watermelons
plop
on the plump of August.
Soon September.
Disconnections: July 17.18
In elephantine pirouette
I dance around my deck
bending, leaning, stretching
twisting leg and neck
camera poised and ready
in effort all agley’d
to capture in mid-flight
a wispy floating seed.
It can’t be seen by others
observers might be flummoxed
wondering what I’m chasing
delusional and lummoxed.
I cannot get a focus
on ary single one
the geranium sighs and whispers
I’ll show you how it’s done:
you stay quite still and quiet
don’t let on you care
and it will come to you
like silvery tickly air.
Connections: September 12.17
Oneupmanship rages
in late garden staples:
the geranium will not be outdone
by the maples.
Connections: September 3.16
If ever a bit of beauty
reached out
distilling itself from life’s blur
hailed us
this is it.
Thanks again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
Connections: June 1
Connections: May 30
I have a gardener friend
who messes me up no end
she jumbles my cranium
with pelargonium/geranium
and sends me ’round the bend.
Connections: January 20
Surprise, surprise, dear reader!
No snow, no ice, no frost!
But a heady hued reminder
that hope is hid, not lost.
Canard, you say?
Well, I don’t know.
But today I need
to think it so.
Connections: January 15
People, meaning well,
say I should have a pet.
Little do they know
I have the best one yet.
Meet my pet geranium:
content in sunny latitude
it contemplates the weather
in vaguely feline attitude.
It may not twitch a tail
nuzzle, wag, or purr,
but I don’t have to walk it
or vacuum up its fur.
My friends are quite like-minded
and, taller than they by half,
is their twining placid rosy
pet bougainvillea giraffe.
With thanks again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
