Late, luscious from drenching
winter rains, plummy clusters
punctuate the grass, bell-like,
slightly sour (so they say) tiny
displays of intricate essence,
much-awaited signs of spring,
wine-bound somewhere
like dandelions, but not here,
purpling our full forty acres
with a slight smell of mildew.
~~~
Our land is full of edible things we don’t eat, from the corn crop in the back field to fragrant magnolia blossoms and grape hyacinths. Every year I say I’ll pick the pawpaws and persimmons, but mosquitos and raccoons get there first. Maybe this year…
Inspired by prompts from Robert Lee Brewer and dVerse.
Yes, and every Spring I tell myself I’ll buy a mower and do my own acreage, but then I think about how much Jerry could really use the money, and how much time NOT mowing my own space will free up so that i can sit at my keyboard, and decide to just enjoy the green instead of maintaining it.
Great space; thanks for letting me visit!
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Some of us are meant to mow and some are meant to write about it!
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Here’s to the wine of life, here’s to you Denise!
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Cheers!
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How wonderful you have so much surrounding you. Lovely write.
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I miss Arizona though!
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I am a native Texan, but have lived here so long, Arizona is home. ❤
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We have grape hyacinths in our garden. They look lovely but have no scent. I love the alliterative phrase ‘plummy clusters punctuate the grass’ and the thought that they are ‘wine-bound somewhere like dandelions’.
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Thanks for your encouragement. Our grape hyacinths have the advantage of numbering in the thousands to combine their scents.
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Lovely poem but I cannot take credit for the prompt. That’s from Robert Lee Brewer’s Write Better Poetry blog.
https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2021-april-pad-challenge-day-5
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Thanks for the clarification.
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Beautifully composed poem …..
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Thank you!
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