"Milkweeds" (1876) by Fidelia Bridges [1834-1923].
Asclepias in bloom
the landowner
sees a perennial weed
not the generations
that could delight his
grandchildren
© 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.
ReplyDeleteWeeds dry nicely and one of my favorite winter sights is dried Queen Anne's lace lightly covered with snow.
DeleteWhat an interesting direction to go with those pictures. You have a unique voice and vision. Thanks for sharing your poems.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kind observation.
DeleteDiane, 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/)
ReplyDeleteNo summer beverages--just words!
DeleteLove your poems. For the second, I love thinking about the moss cradling and covering the trees through the cold winter.
ReplyDeleteGreen moss when everything else is gray is a lovely sight.
DeleteYour responses to art intrigue me and inspire me to look more closely.
ReplyDeleteDon't look too close or you may see the aphids! ;-)
DeleteThey are both lovely, but I love the first one--delighting his grandchildren.
ReplyDeleteI don't know any child who isn't intrigued by a butterfly!
DeleteI enjoy your unique voice and spin on all the paintings you choose for your poems. Weeds will never be the same. :)
ReplyDeleteHa! To a dedicated, lawn-loving suburbanite, all weeds are the same!
DeleteMy mother's asclepias are blooming right now. So much delight in their flowers, both for me and for the butterflies.
ReplyDeleteTheir flowers are so odd looking, though, aren't they?
DeleteMy 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.
ReplyDeleteWe have milkweed growing in patches at my library, unfortunately, the grounds people keep mowing them down!
DeleteThose cradling mosses make me want to head out into the woods for a hike, Diane. Lovely!
ReplyDeleteSadly, Laura, I wrote about the mosses with a heavy heart. The artist went into the woods for a specific purpose...
DeleteYour 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!
ReplyDeleteWhat an interesting topic you've chosen for a novel!
Deletenot 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.
ReplyDeleteStop by again on Sunday, Linda, for this week's haiga (with cherita).
DeleteYou 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!
ReplyDeletehttp://myjuicylittleuniverse.blogspot.com/2011/04/alice-oswald.html
You find lovely poetry everywhere, Diane!
ReplyDelete