African Tulip Tree once they borrowed this invasive tree, brought from afar to hawai'i. it was imported from a world away, once transplanted it just got away. spread like disease, among a flock, we heard it so. so many things we do will fail us. time will bring surprises that we cannot understand. our great works impress us so. new evils seem to surprise us; but we may still endure.
Dried Thistle sharp and prickly to protect herself, her tender heart, broken so many times before. and so proctected, we might also be, except that there is such a price to pay for nearly perfect protection. today it snows. we hunker down, protected from cold by extra insulation, so we can nap on a winter afternoon. a thistle flower is a beautiful thing, clearly something to be protected..
roses: a claim certainly to a kind of love. dressed up to show someone some kind of sweet emotion wedding or funeral, this feeling is alike, a dozen roses means the same as one, but costs a lot more. friend or family resting in a box, or beautiful lady, cute as any fox. roses: a claim certainly to a kind of love. dressed up to show someone some kind of sweet emotion
unknown varieties overwhelm our senses. she likes to smell their perfumes. and they have colour too, fine, bright colour. colour, i can appreciate. cross pollination! mixing creates new varieties, exotic shapes, patterns of vivid colour. and we are like that too. improved by contact with others (who we miss)
old stories were told of a young man, in love with himself. flowers are, as we should remember, a little different. and many varieties can brighten our spring gardens. people are a bit like that. now that we hardly ever see them, we can appreciate the beautiful variety.
dragons in the sky, a white fluffy unicorn, a kitten in the clouds. sometimes i think i'll never see them. where there are clouds, that's what i see, although i keep looking. the orchid though, seemed to have a bird shape, a purple bird. i like the bird, and think i may like this new year too, and hope i can. a kitten in the clouds.
once in october i stopped to look at ripening corn, saw the last of the chicory, growing on the edge of the field. faded beauty, beyond summer, a reminder of summer chicory, maybe a weed, maybe a flavour enhancer, definitely beautiful flowers on ragged stems. weed or flower? (a question: how can i be classified?)
a favorite, it grows in a warm place, somewhere i've never been. several years have gone now and there may be no way back. exotic and bright, it pleased me: something so strange and wonderful. tropical sun powers colour to overwhelm my temperate vision, and i am almost blinded.
we'll try to forget why anyone would feel unsafe, or that any bite might be a delicious discovery: like artichokes (once you get past the prickles) so many have such defences. hurt once, we try strategies to minimise future attacks, painful and maybe evil. something to be said for prickles. none of us wants to be bitten or chewed up.