and post notes and photos about your poem like Evelyn Judy Buehler.
I loved my job as a botanist, which took me to many foreign lands,
Like the golden sun rises smiling, to meet all our natural demands.
I was always marked for this work, ever since I was a small child;
And was often seen wandering the woods, as I loved all things wild!
I'd always liked camping out, and had come to know various plants,
Like crimson flamingos getting to know, a complex courtship dance.
I was often discovering plants to name, and to find out more about,
Like the sun we've long been missing, doing its timely turnabout.
I never outgrew this passion, which followed me into my adulthood,
As that which was called puppy love, becomes lasting and matured.
Without interactions in the wild, life held no purpose or meaning,
As bluebirds lives aren't as vivid, without the treetop convening.
My days were now exciting, with work, loving family, and friends,
Like classic ruby evening sun, with its kaleidoscopic color trends!
One day I learned I'd be going to Greece, to seek the goat orchid,
And to get specimens of this rare flower, would make me euphoric.
So with two colleagues I boarded a plane, in the heart of a summer,
Resolved to find this elusive, quaint bloom-a shy natural stunner!
After a restful night at our hotel, we set out avidly in the sun,
Like the one so long ignored, reigning as the heart's number one.
With our guide we entered a forest, in agreement not to stray far,
As the planets revolve in natural bliss, around the fervent star!
We fanned out combing the area, where the orchids had been sighted;
And I will admit to you now, I'd become more than a little excited.
So much so that in my exuberance, it seemed I'd wandered too far,
Like after having forgotten yourself, recalling who you truly are.
I searched and yelled for my friends, but there was nary a reply,
And as it seemed, I was alone in the world, under a cerulean sky!
Later as skies turned magenta, I saw a lady of indeterminate age,
Who was surpassing in beauty, like beauty itself in its early stage.
And I fell into her tender arms, as I sobbed out my fear and pain,
Like losing the one you love, and knowing they won't return again!
She asked me if I had become lost, to which I replied that I had,
And she took me to her nearby cottage-and for supper I was glad.
The cottage had a fragrant garden, and was encircled in greenery;
And as we talked after supper, I inquired about the exotic scenery.
She said she was Mother Nature, so fine gardens were her specialty,
And in my shock I nearly fainted, at the unveiling of true identity!
Like the shock of a thunderbolt, to sleepless summer night skies;
Or the beautiful shocking pink, of awakening dawn's golden sunrise.
As deep down I'd always known her, I soon saw things differently;
And we had an in depth dialogue, full of vividly beautiful imagery.
Her ruby lips spoke of crimson sunsets, and of gold day vivid flocks;
And the openness and geniality of nature, and of doors without locks.
Stars twinkled in her mystery eyes, at the mention of black nights,
And soon danced with mirth, at talk of a golden quest for daylight!
We talked of rampant greenness all over, a sign and symbol of life;
And of how she nurtures and cares for, the various forms of wildlife.
And of mountains and valleys and forests, deserts swamps and blooms;
Of blue skies and clouds, and red butterflies emerging from cocoons.
Then with a toss of her head, she gave a knowing and dimpled smile,
While we spoke of the paths of beauty, along many long, lonely miles.
And when we talked of tragedy, her eyes glistened wetly as moonbeams,
Like large raindrops falling from the skies, when a hurricane screams!
We talked of winter anguish, and the return of happiness with spring-
For with the revival of meadow flowers, there's no memory of anything.
I began to grow tired and I slept, in Mother's cottage in the woods,
So pretty and so very peaceful, amidst sweet birdsong of the backwoods.
And when golden morning had come, Mother guided me out of the forest,
And we kissed and soon we parted, but I would visit often, as promised!
Copyright © Evelyn Judy Buehler | Year Posted 2021