poinsettia’s glow
December’s humble flower—
red bracts framed by snow
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the fabric remembers her hands~
floured fingerprints on crimson petals,
the knot at her waist pulled tight
as she turned from the oven’s glow.
heat curls the edges,
fraying the green leaves
where gravy once splattered~
a stain, a story.
Mother wore it like armor~
against time,
against hunger,
against the silence
of an empty kitchen.
Now it hangs,
a ghost of cinnamon and cloves,
still holding the shape
of her laughter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Midwinter’s blush—not born of frost,
but coaxed from shadows when days shrink
to slivers. A star-shaped constellation
pressed between panes, each scarlet leaf
a silent flare against winter’s gray.
Some call it flor de Nochebuena,
flower of the Holy Night~
as if crimson could hold reverence,
as if a plant remembers angels
or the weight of a child’s breath.
Yet here it stands: unbothered by theology,
a bold geometry of joy.
Watch how its gold-tipped stamens
ignite like votives~
not praying, simply being light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the poinsettia's blush,
December cold bites window glass~
red bracts on white snow
scarlet w a ~. ~ .
v .~
e
s ~. ~ .
of love
caress moonstone f l
a
k e s of dusk ~
poised poinsettia
Outside with my water pail
stands a guilty looking snail,
and a half-eaten poinsettia.
You know, dear snail,
I'm going to get ya.
A poinsettia.
Doesn’t do much.
But when you look at one-
It seems to make a merry jingling sound.
The doorbell rings.
And there are more guests.
Who notice the Christmas tree.
The poinsettia sits by the heating vent.
The leaves are blowing gently.
No one notices.
This humble decorative plant.
The poinsettia will never grow very tall.
It is an indoor plant.
It likes to be,
Around the festivities.
In the warmth.
But not the center of attention.
There is not much more it needs.
A poinsettia.
Doesn’t do much.
But knows how to live-
A warm and comfortable life.
red petals bloom wild
against replicated leaves
Christmas hue with pride
Thoughts shot like black darts
Ricocheting in decaying glass hearts
So uninspired so much to be desired
Black and white lines crossed tossed
I’m the piano playing out of tune
I’m poinsettia’s of black bloom
I’m the one that got away to soon
The flood of tears your fears of monsoon
Red tide inside of passions death
Never did lie to you lied to myself
Cried musical tears turquoise blue
Rebirth is near and I feel brand new
Winds within wild and free
Shedding my skin a spiritual healing
Was disappointed turned into anointing
Feeling tides teal rides of what will be
a poinsettia
a voracious snail duo
sheer desolation
Clever poinsettia
Green red pink blooming beauty
Festive unique bring
snow carpets hide greens
white hills and sky become one...
poinsettia peeks
midst gripping coldness
redeemed soul* seeks revival...
now fired-up by God**
December 9, 2022
1st place "Winter Nature Themed Haiku" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin; judged on 12/13/2022.
*Lamentations 3:58 O Lord, thou hast pleaded the causes of my soul; thou hast redeemed my life.
**Second stanza added on December 14, 2022
The poinsettia is a rare plant, indeed,
Its vivid red leaves outperform its tiny flower,
In Africa, it achieves the height of an oak tree
Exploding in vivid red like a bedecked tower
Decorated for a special holiday occasion.
Our guide was astounded we paid for a frond
While here bouquets are had for the picking,
Making me feel like, back home, we are conned.
They grow, he said, from a stick in the ground
I never can keep one alive for more than a week
Then, I looked at him and noticeably frowned.
Six dollars I pay for a stem with two blossoms,
Suspecting they’re a cutting that will not thrive.
As I stared at the magnificent poinsettia tree
Clement blithely said, “Well, here they’re free!”
Written December 3, 2022
Pretty flowering plant
Often seen at Christmas,
Indigenous to Mexico
Now available at nurseries
Showy scarlet bracts,
Each surrounding yellow flowers
That require much attention
Throughout the season
In order to re-bloom
And delight next year.
Written December 2, 2022
The poinsettia shape reminds us of the Star of Bethlehem
Which led the wise men to a manger with gifts for Him,
And the brilliant red of the Christmas flower symbolizes
The shed blood of Jesus Christ which every Christian prizes
Reminding us that Jesus the Messiah’s birth, is the reason,
The red and green come to us during the Christmas season.
Written December 27, 2021
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