Your first touch awakened in me
A longing, a lotus
A love I once thought dead
You stood there and filled
My entire sky with only that sole
Moonstone look in your eyes
The one that told me I was
No longer alone on this desolate plain
And then something broke free
From the dusty shale and quartz
Shaped like a heart inside of me
As deep as a well
And as dark as the eyes of a barn owl
Unearthed from beneath the wild mustard
On this grave a graven image
Of a love I prayed for in vain
Somewhere buried beneath
The shattered asphalt of indifference
You freed that moth-winged hope
Because you touched me that deeply
Filled me that fully, that completely
How you slivered me like lightning
Resurrected me with a kiss
And then you rained.
The mustard seed
a wild mustard seed took flight
carried aloft in gathering light
over thistle'd sage and poppies
in countless colorful copies
as brash rain showers subside
the retreat of angry clouds abide
scolded by the Northern wind
in search of infinity's final end
once barren hills, now painted gold
snow geese forage with fledgling fold
amid the flutter of swallowtail's wings
from soil sprouted seedling life brings
'til once more mustard's children are blown
from heaven's heights the earth is sown
~~~Dedicated to my Uncle Joe~~~
The garden now
recovering from winter's barren ice cold
begins to grow in April rain showers;
lush with a multitude of greens
a grace of earthen decor releases colors
and scents floating in the breeze.
Seaweed brightens into pickled crocodiles
while juniper moss proliferates
to olive sage pears;
shamrock green glisten like emeralds
in the chartreuse lime mints
each wafting on the breath of lilacs.
Lily of the valley peek up
rushing in on heavy laden dew
as honeysuckle blossoms aromatize the fields,
a sea of lavender dances between mayapple and pear
where wild mustard clusters in the in between
with white, yellow, purpled violets rising everywhere.
May is born anew
a spring blushing in the shadowed light
picture perfect awakening the garden in May.
Let the wild mustard and tansy grow
both tall and prolific, spreading freely
along the edges of the garden, seedlings from the wood.
Beneath the plum and pear, near the sycamore and cherry,
allegheny spurge known as pachysandra spread with runner vines
here and there along and up the fence in shade or sun.
Lily of the valley, once only six small plants
take over like a wave of rushing green oceans
that scents the thickened air with dainty delights and fragrance.
So much grows wild, free and un-contained
held back only barely by mason stone, brick and brush
intended to set the separation of garden and drive or walkway.
After years of carefully imagined plant and cultivation
this garden is no longer mine taking on life all its own
to grow rampant and wild, bold and beautiful despite my every effort.
It is surviving, living, growing, a picture perfect painting
envious lush greenery waiting for the proper moment
in which to flower and bloom beneath the summer sun.
Cream colored tulips and satin red roses
intermix fluid in the garden.
One flower fades away as another takes it place,
like croci giving in to daffodils.
Marsh daisies and wild violets blend between the hosta
and minimize the scent full of lily of the valley.
A lone white iris bloomed today, stunting the green of others
holding high its flowered head above the may-apples.
At last the hint of peeking gladiolas rise,
red and pale green above the ground.
Yellow green eunonymus glow lime green in the sun
vibrant and colorful around the bark of an old broken oak.
Wild mustard rises and bloom in clumps
yielding dainty bouquets of delicate white florets.
With this early spring that lingers dry and warm
everything will bloom before its time.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.