We have had a string of rainy days here in South Louisiana. It happens most summers and helps to regulate the rising temperatures. Some days you feel as though you will never dry out. The air is wet. The ground is wet. Your body is wet.
The grass loves all this moisture and it grows and grows. In a nearby empty lot, the grass is almost as tall as I am. On a recent walk I stopped to look at it. Even the weeds of nature that grow out of control are beautiful. Nature is ongoing, reliably replenishing, and ever growing. Maybe your area of the world is hot and dry. Wash yourself in the lushness of the bayou side.
Nature makes no demands.
Modern haiku, Margaret Simon, draft
Listen to the wind through the grass.
Earth’s song in harmony.
Reflections on the Teche 
In an Instant
Janet Clare Fagal
Your fuzzy, wuzzy blossoms,
blades of waving grass,
transport me back to childhood,
summer freedom, picnics,
and home.
Margaret, as tall as you? Wow. And I am not a “girl” who enjoys humidity so it would be a bit rough on me. Yes, though, to the beauty in nature. I have been away and too busy to write much, so glad this spoke to me in a moment where I could do a quick write. My fingers are yearning for more time to write now. Maybe I will call them the poem days of August. There is much to do. Have you ever been up north to say Thousand Islands, Niagara Falls, Adirondacks here in New York ? Maybe there is a trip in your future and some type of poetry retreat we could organize. Hmmmmm. I can always dream.
I dream of a retreat with poet friends, also, Janet. Your childhood memories are loving recorded in this quick write.
These come from summers in (back then) affordable and non-fancy East Hampton, Carol. AND I think we ought to think about a retreat for a group of poets we know and who would want to take turns leading a morning prompt. I know there are spots near me that might work. Something to ponder. Thanks for your kind words as always.
“Fuzzy, wuzzy” words that evoke childhood for me. I’ve never seen Niagara Falls and they are on my bucket list. My kids want to take a family vacation to Hudson Valley next summer. A writing retreat (without kids) would be a dream come true!
Yes, to fuzzy wuzzy and that song or chant, I was not going to put in wuzzy but it just fit. Oh, the Hudson Valley is very nice. Much to see and do. Not too close to me, but a great area. Spectrum News local here but searchable online does short videos on towns and areas and they are quite well done. You might take a look. And nature….you are right, we need to honor and learn how to live with nature even at its strongest moments, be prepared if possible but just watch the synergy it shares on a regular basis. So much beauty and thought-provoking ideas to be found there.
Love “fuzzy wuzzy blossoms”
Oh yes…those fuzzies! So much fun for kiddos.
earth’s song in harmony-fabulous line!
I listen to earth’s
echoes, knowing its song
flows back and forth in
succession-whispering of harmony.
©CV, 2022, morning quick write
Thanks for a morning prayer poem. Your poem nurtures my summer soul as I walk out the door for yoga, Margaret.
Carol, your poem is in conversation with mine. Your poetry swap gift is finally going into the mail today.
Carol, I love that you did a golden shovel. They are some of my favorites to read and reflect on and to write (when I am finally writing again!) yes to whispering in harmony, wish we humans could do this better and regularly. That ebb and flow of our time on this earth is precious and your quick write reminds us to pay attention!!!
“listening to earth’s echoes” is beautiful and something I need to remind myself to do more of.
“back and forth” is perfect…that swaying of the grasses is sweet.
Good Morning,
Isn’t nature amazing? I love that Timothy grass. I was looking for other names for it as I was counting syllables. It’s also known as Herd Grass. Makes sense. I’ll bet cattle, goats, and sheep love it.
I really like your phrase, “even the weeds…”
herd grass grows even
as august burns high the
mown and fallen weeds
I didn’t know the various names for it. Thanks for your research. August is definitely on fire!
Love learning the names of different plants. Thanks, Linda!
Linda: Thanks for these lines Linda. August is burning high. I thought about looking up the grass, but didn’t do it. So glad you shared. My lawn is brown, but the weeds remain green. Amazing, right?
august burns high-YES!
I did not know the name of the grass so thanks for that, Linda. Is the heat hot enough for you? See you at Spiritual Journey Thursday. My post is up now.
Yes, “august burns high” is thrilling! I do want to say timothy instead of herd grass–just sounds better!
Beautiful reflection in photo and haiku!
Linda, ooo, I love burning august…..we are having a minor drought here and our lawns are showing the signs of lack of rain. But today is glorious and blue sky, low humidity beckons me outside. Notebook in hand I am heading to ponder and write. I feel luckier almost every day to be able to appreciate the world’s riches that surround me, even the weeds you and Margaret speak of. I think we sometimes forget to stop and notice, well maybe not us poets, or us poets off our writing feed!!!
Margaret, I’ve been thinking a lot about how “nature makes no demands” but always leaves sweet surprises. Wish you could ship us some of that lush Louisiana rain. Southeastern PA has been very dry lately.
Waves of weeds
bring joy to burrowing bugs.
Beauty abounds in
nature’s sweet surprises.
so true! Those burrowing bugs love what we think of as weeds…prime real estate for them. LOL
I have been doing a lot of walking of late in my neighborhood, it is peaceful and I am loving it. Not sure why I felt I had to go more far afield before. I notice all the growth on trees, the different kinds, their barks, their seedlings getting ready to drop and fly. I thank the trees for the shade in the heat of the day, the flowers and their color all delight the eye and call to the bees. And then at this house I passed so often in my car I find the “two elephant legs” those super huge and tall ones my neighbor a tree aficionado was telling me to notice that are a silver beech and a copper beech planted decades ago, maybe even 100 years ago, standing so regal and so high. So much delight, so much noticing and so much gratitude. And I am sure many surprises in store as I traverse the path more and more. Your poem speaks to so many surprises, Rose. It really fits where my head is these days.
Weeds do wave, don’t they? A sweet surprise indeed! Thanks, Rose…
Yes, Rose. Nature has given many sweet surprises this summer.
Good use of sounds of w and b, like the rhythm of the wind through the grass.
Fuzzy tails
sway on green stems…
cradling tomorrow
There is something so amusing about “fuzzy tails.” Right? Maybe it’s just the word “fuzzy.” But… thanks for the smile in either case. I like the final thought toward tomorrow.
OOH-cradling tomorrow what a lovely thought, Buffy.
I placed my reply to you, Buffy by mistake in Karen’s section.
The word “cradle” has crept into some of my poems lately. What is that need showing through?
Now that you mention those fuzzy tails, I am seeing kittens hiding among the greenery, playing with the stalks and batting at the “fake tails”. I doubt they really are into cradling those fuzzy tails, but they might pretend to keep us happy. I like the image your poem brings my way, Buffy.
Ladies: A retreat??? Just as I’m yearning for time in the Adirondacks…
Margaret: Your photo and poem speak to me today. It is dry here… and hot. The grass crunches, but rains are expected. I can’t wait for cooler days. And water. A lake… a bubbling stream.
Here are a few lines:
Overnight, parched grass
guzzled dew — a heady brew —
next day appeared green
Okay… haha… let me try again…
Grass grows
headstrong
rustles in the breeze
Weaves its
leaves to
old songs
sways expertise
I love how breeze leads to weaves and leaves. Lovely sounds.
Weaves its
leaves to
old songs
I also love parched grass/guzzled dew. Grass and weeds have been battling each other this summer here in VA.
I kind of love the shock of a word like expertise at the end–not exactly lyrical, but spot on!
Let me get back in the saddle here; hope it’s okay that your intro inspired a blackout poem!
a string of rainy days happens
helps the rising
some days
air is wet ground is wet body is wet
grass loves all this
grows and grows
as tall as walk
as tall as look
as tall as beautiful
ongoing reliably
replenishing lushness
I’m honored by your blackout poem. I love the “as tall as” lines. Nature is reliable. Your poetry prowess is reliable, too.
[…] her permission to start one on my blog. She was gracious about it, and I started posting “This Photo Wants to be a Poem.” Similar to this Open Write prompt, I invite readers to leave a poem in the comments and support […]