My life's been a 'he's become a broken, bumpy ride.'
I am not sure how many trips I can abide.
While he comes, goes, leaves and slips from my side,
I daydream about a smooth, gentle tide.
It is from our depths we did always confide.
Now his ways seem as secrets the night hides.
I truly need for him to give me clues
about his friends, Moony Trends and Mangled Blues.
Both characters only recently showed
and both seem volatile enough to explode.
He reinforced the cellar door with sandbags
on the outside where yard air is so sour, I gag.
Now he wants to cement the cellar ceiling
and place a bed down there in case a malady
renders him contagious and in need of healing.
I never know what is happening or how the
words 'trust me' are but sad and maddening.
Why does he look to me for assurance
when he self-sources every disturbance?
He has developed such a worrisome act
with reasons that loom vague and inexact.
Seems his sanity is disappearing
and something catastrophic is nearing.
Lovely blooms lupine !
Not just fine but superfine.
Cluster of blooms shown
in amazing shape of cone.
Different colours to shine.
Pair of lupine trees
stand as sentinel in glee
at gate of our house.
Those were planted by my spouse.
two years back as gift to me.
Both now attained height,
probably around six feet.
Late Spring or Summer :
Abloom flowers in glamour.
Blue blossoms to exhibit.
Lupine shrubs to grow ,
planted in successive rows.
Blooms in varied hues :
Purple, violet, white, blue
and also golden yellow.
Clusters remain fresh,
Five to seven weeks, not less,
As dried up first set --
New buds ready to bloom next -
Spectacular show to bless.
How can I define ?
Charismatic charm ! Divine .
Beautiful display :
Five-six weeks, day after day --
Kaleidoscope of lupine.
“The wolf loves only once, for life; never crossing bloodlines, never betraying. If its mate dies, it chooses solitude over replacement” from University of Life Tribute
Loyalty he bestowed on the one he would defend
Until the day his dear mate
Passed tragically away.
Inconsolably, he mourned where her lifeless body lay.
Numb now, he has gone out on his own,
Ever more to be again . . . alone.
It’s in my blood like cranberries
Wolf like illness attacking me
I have lupus and it has me
Howling moon won’t cure disease
It can kill and maybe that’s kind
Rather than be ill in body or mind
Lame lupine plant on green vine
Where prey dances attacking spine
I try to sleep but it’s no use
No need for pity poetry will do
Reading red words flying me away
Like winged white bird on pastel page
The wolf is hungry and must eat
Flesh the summary of what is me
Once it is fed I shall be dead
But soul will rise up instead
WILD LUPINE
There we will surrender to the breeze
and drift on lupine's purple frieze.
~by poet
We were as free as wild lupine
In a mountain meadow in sweetest springtime,
Loving the song of the breeze and the grass,
Dancing to music of sunrise and sunset.
Long seemed the season in blush of young love,
Undying faith in promises made,
Perhaps just a dream of things that could be~
In reality’s venues such dreams can’t abide,
Not for the prince who money must make, in drab market street
Even a princess has rules!
Step in, step in darling Elizabeth
from this black night, so eerie, dark and still.
You look so pale, as if you're scared to death.
Please come in from the cold and icy chill.
Welcome to our underground lupine den.
I know that your warm young blood will thrill
to know us as when there were no vile men -
ancient times, before your insipid dog
was domesticated or put in a pen.
Forget him, in a charmed, enchanted fog,
as you're welcomed to our society,
outside, just beetles and a hollow log.
My dear - you're losing your anxiety!
Now, hear our lonesome, mournful, moonward howl.
Don't let it jolt you to sobriety,
nor listen to, above, the wise old owl
who warns you of a fate, unkind and foul.
Upon the ridge, where summer winds blow free,
A spired procession wakes in shades of blue,
To paint the landscape in a pastel sea,
And bathe the hillside in an azure hue.
They stand as sentinels of amethyst,
With velvet leaves that reach toward the sun,
Adorned in dewdrops, by the morning kissed,
Before the heat of midday has begun.
Though named for wolves, they bring the soil no harm,
But yield their nitrogen to barren ground,
A wild, untamed, and vibrant floral charm,
Where beauty in the desolate is found.
So stands the lupine, resolute and fair,
A breathless wonder in the summer air.
Upon the windswept hills where lupines grow,
Their purple banners flutter in the sun,
Soft petals whisper secrets none may know,
Of ancient tales; battles lost and won.
The morning dew upon their stems begun
To glisten as diamonds newly cast,
While shadows play—a dance that will not last—
And time’s relentless tide must surely run.
Beneath their shade, the earth is cool and deep,
Where roots entwine the memories of spring—
A silent promise nature means to keep—
Of hope returned on gentle, gilded wing.
So, let the lupine bloom where hearts reside;
With strength and grace; violet hues abide.
I greet the mild sun,
as it ascends among peach and lilac hues.
Its golden rays caress pearly dewdrops,
resting upon my verdant leaves.
My conical purple and pink petals stand tall
against dawn's breeze, as I gently sway,
dancing to nature's timeless rhythm.
I can hear the sweet call of the Chickadees,
as cheeky chipmunks raid brimming bird feeders.
Some claim I am controversial and invasive,
but I am a beacon of resilience -
a haven for bees and butterflies.
Silver lamp of light
Low howl, longing, louder
Grey form looks upwards
Fragrant meadows
And sweet spring breezes
Fill my minds eye
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