Of Summer Rains

Sanaa, over at Prompt Nights, said, “Rain showers my spirit and waters my Soul.” I completely agree—rain cleanses—so I wrote a wee bit for her prompt. Okay, I added a couple of stanzas to “Summer Rains”, a micro-poem I shared on Instagram, making this my 13th expanded Poem Bit. I’m also linking this bit to Poets United (Poetry Pantry, 304).

“Of Summer Rains”

My pencils rest in spring cans,
wishing for liquid warm colors
to blossom into storied bright.

The muse paces creativity’s mind,
wanting wetted canvas to sprinkle
with rainbowing tales of poesy.

I’ve decanted spring blossoms
and sprinkled hues over blank lands,
but my pencils, my muse, and my Self
forever dream of summer rains.

Summer Rains - Adult Coloring BookThis is a page from Secret Garden: an Inky Treasure Hunt and Coloring Book, created by Johanna Basford… colored and poetized and photographed and rough-trimmed by moi.

Thorning My Heart

He lives in the mirth crinkling your eyes, the rose says. I sniff in her words, invite the scent of each sound to carve itself in my bones. My blood feeds on old realities. This flower isn’t sick, my heart says, but my scars and I have trouble trusting tales told by a rose—so many layers… Sick or not, I think, no one knows what lies within, where souls and stories of living and dying bloom unseen. I know, the rose says, her petals dancing your kisses on my cheek. And I believe.

a rose spoke to me,
chanted of springs without you,
thorning my heart’s loss

the not so wee notes…
– I rarely pay attention to roses. They’ve never been my favorite flowers, but they were my little brother’s… and he has been on my mind a lot these last few days. He really liked spring weather, the color orange, and roses… So I’ve been smiling at the blossoms… and, perhaps, crying a bit.
– I was not thinking of “The Sick Rose”, by William Blake, when I wrote this poem. But “This flower isn’t sick” is so close to the line in Blake’s poem, that I felt the need to point it out.
– I hope my little brother’s soul is smelling the roses in the Summerlands (or wherever he likes).
– Linked to Open Link Night, over at the dVerse and to Sanaa’s Prompt Night (Take time out and stop to smell the Roses).

Orange Flower
(the weeping angel behind my little brother’s rose was painted by Shelle Kennedy)