Ode to Tulips
The tulips are too excitable, it is Winter here.
—Sylvia Plath (Tulips)
Like Tulip-beds of different shape and dyes,
bending beneath the invisible west-wind’s sighs.
—Thomas Moore
Roses propose to plentiful hearts, but my soul
rushes headlong into a waterfall of tulips.
—Quote by Poet
*Rachel Ruysch - most acclaimed tulip painter
of the Dutch Golden Era
ODE TO TULIPS
tulips a treat, with trippy leaves,
a fan over roses, a relief from grief.
this delightful Dutch-y sends me.
blotched sepals amidst pastels
of Spring, in perky pink,
purple pleasure, youthful yellow.
this dandy, fellow of a flower,
full of power to please, or Plath.
Sylvia’s sentiments, a nod
of regret, blinding, grieving.
opposite of my pet. my perpetual
love knots binding me in happiness,
romantic rendering sealed with a kiss.
vainglorious leaves sans thorns,
luscious darlings to stroke. effervescent
brilliance in a clear vase of water.
ostentatious presentation of Ruysch.*
florid field of treasures appeal to my eyes,
a sea of tulips as far as the eye can see.
Dutch-y draw near, your ship overflows,
in Miss Universe’s arms, cradled in a bride’s.
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