Thursday, May 24, 2007

May Flurries (an occasional poem for today)

So. It's May 24th and it’s snowing
on what little potential for beauty
this garden holds. I doubt beauty, knowing
in my heart that such flurries are routine.

I know what you’re thinking. I know you’ll say
you saw that heart coming. Like any flake
it flutters. Melts on contact. A cliché
is all it is, you'll say. Give me a break.

And I will. Hearts break. Look at my garden,
at Jacob's ladder, at the globeflower's
ice-bound buds. It’s cold. No doubt they'll harden
like I did. Go straight from frozen to sour.

Being sour, I know these buds won’t open,
will never look better. But here’s hoping.


Ariel Gordon said...

You know, I think I appreciate your whimsical moments most...

(goes without saying that this is a gorgeous g-d photo...)

Brenda Schmidt said...

Ha! Thanks, A.

I'm sure the neighbours must wonder about me. Out squatting in the garden on a cold windy day. Because of the wind I had to do lots of shooting to get a clear shot. I hadn't planned on writing an occasional poem either, but hey, it was that kind of day.

Anonymous said...

Think those Globe flowers would grow here?

Brenda Schmidt said...

Ya, I'm sure they'd do well there. I know just the spot...