She may be less
than impressed
that I am writing this
a somewhat
less than haiku
after all
Daphne got stuck
under the bed,
and then…
I had to get her out
from under the bed,
my dumb ass dog.
A tug of war,
paws and whining
ensued…
and then,,,,
I won.
Someone
had an accident.
Someone
was hiding.
After the battle…
we had a discussion
about going under the bed.
Daphne Blake was getting ready for a party
Wearing her new dress, she wished to look smarty.
Exposing her buttocks, she appeared so tarty
She revelled, not knowing she would soon fall into a trap dirty
What’s happening is clearly understood.
Apollo has one hand around her waist,
one predator, one quarry, interlaced.
He’s coming up behind her (which is good),
but she’s a tree (two lovers, getting wood!)
She’d rather change her state than be disgraced,
preferring to be chaste than to be chased.
She’s choosing abstinence, above life's blood.
Is love a trauma, to be undergone?
Arousal something ugly, to be faced?
Should Nature’s process be looked down upon?
The carnal act, a tactless lapse of taste?
Or might the thing be ardently embraced?
We, formless fragments, merging in The One?
My beautiful Granddaughter Daphne
You make me so very happy
You are growing each day
Which makes me very happy I say
Grandma loves you
Hugs and kisses too
You’re a Flower in My Garden 3-5-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daphne
Your winter child, with beguiling scent perfumes snow and rain,
I smile in January’s barrenness to herald crocus, wrens and snowdrops.
Sometimes a temperamental garden tot, don’t like wet feet,
Evergreen harbinger of bees and ladybugs and butterflies
Whispering of vernal winds in their hibernating renewal.
I watch the furry maniacs retrieve a cache of summer pine nuts
From beneath the cloak of my protection –
Spear leaves edged in yellow like wispy winter sunshine -–
Giving back a fountain of fragrance splashing from star shaped blooms.
Robed in purple royalty, decorating winter’s threadbare garden gown,
My blossoms glow through your garden’s gloom,
A jubilee of sweet incense, heaven’s winter grace, lovingly shared.
winter daphne
mauve daphne buds swell
when snow and frost prowl landscapes ~
winter perfume bursts
12-5-22
Contest: Winter Themed Haiku
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
syllables checked with www.how,manysyllables
Daphne Odora is an evergreen shrub that blooms in the winter with an unforgettable fragrance.
Daphne Odora
Dainty Daphne costumed in purest white
Through winter’s darkest days shares her blooms
Wears a satin gown to the ice moon’s delight
Small nosegay clusters share intoxicated perfume.
Daphne sings in winterfests of raucous snows
Evergreen, her smiles warm winterbound showers
January’s merry child surely knows
She lifts the heart through every frigid hour.
8-26-22
Contest: Eight Lines of Rhyme - Your Favorite Flower
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Daphne has no plans to cry:
She shall another man try:
Not The Old with hairs to dye
Nor One others think might die…
Asking she has been: Why? Why?
She never for once did lie
To Mac with his Spurious Love;
Mic Mac to Pranks not above…
Mac, who’d call her Animal,
Twelve Times just The Minimal
Daphne would not dare to wait
For another on This Weight
Nor would she for same sigh
The Voice for Sighs never high…
Now, Daphne for Rebellion
Of an Ill-Used Battalion!
Sweet Daphne Odora
Beneath midwinter’s misty veils of rain and snow
Sweet Daphne Odora thrives
Evergreen when silver winds bid Orion return
Winter’s child blooms through short days and lingering nights –
Harbinger of crocus and of snowdrops –
Deep green spear shaped leaves edged in yellow -
Prophetic sign of spring sunshine –
Like a delicate bridal bouquet
Offers dainty nosegays in clusters
Of iridescent white satin or silky pink
Edged in royal purple robes,
A January Valentine
When icicles drip with midwinter tears,
Peeks through the icy breath of frozen air
Spreads a perfume intoxicating and unforgettable
Superstar of the barren season –
Finicky and feisty
Warrior of the bleak winter garden
Sweet Daphne Odora!
3/12/21
Contest: Flower or Flowers in Imagism
Sponsor: Constance La France
Daphne
Daphne was definitely not a flirt
Dynamic and fierce, boy she could hurt
Clumsy in movement, robust, but with poise
Loud at times, she could make lots of noise
She hailed from good old Lincoln town
A rural beauty admired all around
Good at her job, espied by the boss
Her skills took her over to lands abroad
She continued to work and get her own way
When handled well, she was a mainstay
But her mood was volatile, her temper afire
When out on the field, she got stuck in a mire
Abandoned by her military lover
She found herself in the hands of another
Damaged and hurt, they mocked her demise
Paraded then dumped by the foreign bad boys
When the warring powers discontinued their fight
Her admirers removed her away from her plight
They took her back home to old Lincoln town
She was polished and cleaned and no longer down
Now old, she sits with others alike
Those far-off memories are kept alight
Her fans are many in this place of recall
And Daphne the tank is having a ball
Winter Daphne blooms
fragrant flowers awaken
October's chilled air
I am the sun which rises from the East each day for you
But the rays are too blinding so you love the shade.
I am the diadem which wants to crown you my queen
But you do not want to carry the crown.
I am the music that plays every step you take
But you block out your ears not to hear it.
I am the rose which grows in the garden to kiss your feet
But you step, tumble on the rose so it no longer stands.
I fear I may be too hard to love
But my love does not come with any kind of chain.
It is like the depths of time's unanswered end
But you treat it like the blackest curse.
~Apollo And Daphne~
(Eight By Four)
Apollo's first love
a beautiful
maiden that when
Apollo saw her
in the woods fell
in love with-but
Daphne fled from
him just frightened
Apollo was in
such hot pursuit
that when she felt
his breath she screamed
at her father
the god Peneus
who just changed her
into a tree.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2011
October.19.2016
~Author's Notes:
" The Eight by Eight" is a poetry
style created by Alvin Otto Stewart.
In quiet anticipation, Daphne carefully sewed
tiny outfits of love for her soon to be child
with her soft braided hair and loose, faded clothes
Daphne sung lullabies, then stared off for awhile.
When her due date came, we wished Daphne well
for our small sewing circle was caring and kind
Daphne looked embarrassed, but was happy to tell
that she'd show us her baby at just the right time.
A few months later, sweet Daphne appeared
gently cradling her sleeping, angelic little girl
with a hushed adoration, we all drew near her
and beheld the most beautiful baby in the world.
When the ladies dispersed, I asked Daphne if I
could hold her new baby, I'd hold her with care
with a brief hesitation, she said, "Just a short while.”
her perfect, silicone baby was lighter than air.
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