I…
is it Winter…still;
wake me when it’s Spring
and I shall plant geranium
indiscriminate in blue white pots
staggered on the Summer porch
II…
though I shall not sweep
ginkgo biloba hearts of Autumn
slightly folded gold dulled cups
that clog gutters…clump corners
and step creases near my deck
III…
until you knock…to bring me violets
in small brick red ceramics…nutrients,
a folded paper for their special care;
I was waiting…I shall toss the note
for I know their complicated keeping
IV…
not like geranium… thriving in an outdoor batch;
violets prefer East facing tables or a windowsill
are touchy about watering…droplets left on leaves;
yet most of all…violets must have ample space
around their roots to breathe
Bonnie Marshall
Artist: John Ferren, “Contemplations on Geraniums”
1952
Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
Please read and enjoy the work of a talented writer.
A amazing poem.
To know you like this poem is immensely helpful. Certainly, I’m very grateful you reblogged it. Smiles…
I did enjoy the poem and many people read and enjoyed. You are welcome Bonnie.
Smile…
A capable gardener – and I suspect a capable lover. One seems to inform the other. Sensual poem.
Why, thank you, Sharon. ‘Twas not intentionally there, though. Smiles…
So gorgeous. I can picture all these beautiful plants (which I especially appreciate because I do not have a green thumb myself so I must rely on the visions of others)!
Much pleased you like it, Nancy. You’ve affinity and abundant talents in many other areas. Smiles…
Well Bonnie…this just simply made me happy….like breathing the moist warm air of a winter green house.
Thank you, Jana. Good memories. In Pennsylvania my father grew plants and flowers in rows of green houses…cold winters.
Bonnie, I really love your poetry and the images you use. Beautiful.
I’m pleased you think so, Melissa, and I appreciate your letting me know. Smiles…