"Milkweeds" (1876) by Fidelia Bridges [1834-1923].
Asclepias in bloom
sees a perennial weed
not the generations
that could delight his
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
"Thistles and Weeds" (1864) by Léon Bonvin [1834-1866].
the greys of winter
slowly all color disappears
from his world
he turns to the woods
to find the mosses still green
and waiting to cradle him
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
This week's Round-Up is being hosted by Michelle Kogan!
They're lovely, Diane. I love the idea of finding the art in weeds, long ago gathered them in fields on an old family farm for 'my' bouquets. Your connection within the milkweed is sweet.ReplyDelete
Weeds dry nicely and one of my favorite winter sights is dried Queen Anne's lace lightly covered with snow.Delete
What an interesting direction to go with those pictures. You have a unique voice and vision. Thanks for sharing your poems.ReplyDelete
Thank you for your kind observation.Delete
Diane, I am always stretching here at your posts. Appreciations for selecting these paintings from old fields, from telling tales so succinctly. I looked up Cherita as I had forgotten that it wasn't a summer beverage or new singing sensation. Ekphrastic, I remember. Summer breezes to you. (http://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/cherita/)ReplyDelete
No summer beverages--just words!Delete
Love your poems. For the second, I love thinking about the moss cradling and covering the trees through the cold winter.ReplyDelete
Green moss when everything else is gray is a lovely sight.Delete
Your responses to art intrigue me and inspire me to look more closely.ReplyDelete
Don't look too close or you may see the aphids! ;-)Delete
They are both lovely, but I love the first one--delighting his grandchildren.ReplyDelete
I don't know any child who isn't intrigued by a butterfly!Delete
I enjoy your unique voice and spin on all the paintings you choose for your poems. Weeds will never be the same. :)ReplyDelete
Ha! To a dedicated, lawn-loving suburbanite, all weeds are the same!Delete
My mother's asclepias are blooming right now. So much delight in their flowers, both for me and for the butterflies.ReplyDelete
Their flowers are so odd looking, though, aren't they?Delete
My Asclepias are just about ready to bloom, this weed I'll take and regrow each year–interesting take on this lovely weed. I like the calmness in your second poem as the "mosses still green" linger on, Thanks Diane.ReplyDelete
We have milkweed growing in patches at my library, unfortunately, the grounds people keep mowing them down!Delete
Those cradling mosses make me want to head out into the woods for a hike, Diane. Lovely!ReplyDelete
Sadly, Laura, I wrote about the mosses with a heavy heart. The artist went into the woods for a specific purpose...Delete
Your cheritas are always so effortlessly beautiful. I've written a couple for my Antarctic NF verse novel - and have not found them effortless to write!ReplyDelete
What an interesting topic you've chosen for a novel!Delete
not the generations to delight his grandchildren....that just really take the cherita to a new place. Fabulous job. And, those mosses that cradle winter...beautiful. What a refreshment to stop by here today.ReplyDelete
Stop by again on Sunday, Linda, for this week's haiga (with cherita).Delete
You really have a way with these short forms. I like the voices you bring to these weeds. You would like the book I wrote about in this post--check it out!ReplyDelete
You find lovely poetry everywhere, Diane!ReplyDelete