Each week I find a photo to write about. This form of poetry is called ekphrastic poetry, verse written in response to art. I invite my students to write alongside me on Fanschool. I ask my blog visitors, too. No pressure. If you feel inspired, write a small poem in the comments. Encourage other writers by visiting Fanschool or responding to writers here.
The spring means time to ready the butterfly gardens. This year I have to put my butterfly plants in pots due to a puppy that likes to discover things by nosing, peeing, and chewing. Last night he was chewing and chewing. When I finally scraped his mouth, I found an electric wire. Yikes! That could have caused all kinds of damage.
My poem today is after Amy Ludwig VanDerwater from a new anthology of poems by Irene Latham and Charles Waters, If I Could Choose a Best Day: Poems of Possibility. Each poem in the collection is an “If” poem. You can read Amy’s here on The Poem Farm.
If
after Amy Ludwig VanDerwater
If you could name a just right plant
for feeding pollinators this spring,
If milkweed, fennel, or parsley
are on your garden list,
swallowtails and monarchs, too,
may stop by this place for a day or two,
drop off an egg upon a leaf
to start a new life.If you could name just one small plant,
and save it for the spring,
you’d plant a lifetime
once again
where butterflies can come
back home.
Reflections on the Teche 
If you open the blinds
at first you’ll see only clouds
but after you go get your tea
and sit down again
and look again
you’ll gasp —
OH!
at the ribbons of glowing pink
at the turquoise between the layers
at the gold on the horizon
at the pink spreading across the whole sky.
Open the blinds
witness the glory
whisper, “Thank you.”
Love “whisper ‘Thank you’. What a beautiful way to start the day.
Oh, Mary Lee, what a glorious poem to read this morning! Thank you, thank you.
I really do not know the name of that little plant, but your poems provide hope and the promise of spring that has not yet come to Northern New Jersey! Thank you
This poem shows the power of a small word and the influence of a simple act of planting a flower. “you’d plant a lifetime” is a line that gave me goosebumps.
“Change”
Once on a digital paper she wrote a poem
and called it “butterflies”
and that’s what it was all about
and her teacher gave her an A
and told her it was good
and the world just kept spinning
Once on a sheet torn from a notebook
she wrote a poem
and called it “Monarch”
and that’s what it was all about
not the title
the butterfly
the ones that come and go in spring
not to be seen till next year
and her teacher gave her an a
and a good look before they went outside
So she tried again
On comment under a small post she wrote a poem
and called it “Change”
and that’s what it was all about it was about
how her thoughts changed
like butterflies going through metamorphosis
they grow up
and she did too
and she showed it to her teacher
who gave her praise
and a small glance
and the earth kept orbiting
because change doesn’t always affect everything around
Like a caterpillar growing its wings
and flying away
Avalyn, 5th grade
Ah, Avalyn, I love this meta poem about the poems you’ve written. I like how the last stanza doesn’t mention the grade received. I know a poet’s journey when I see one. It doesn’t matter what grade a teacher puts on your poem. You are a poet.
Thank you Margaret and Amy, for the If poem prompt. I still need to get this new anthology!
If you look up,
can you see the sky,
still blue and alive
even in the storm?
If you look in,
can you see the hope
of a life lived authentically
even in the storm?
A life lived authentically in the storm is one I witnessed today as a friend buried her husband. Thanks for writing.
Why am I not surprised that we have butterfly gardening in common? Yes, my whole side yard has been taken over by Fennel that grows taller than I am. It is on my list for sure – – I love when the black swallowtail caterpillars weigh the sprigs down and munch happily until they form their chrysalis. This is a perfect photo! It’s hard to garden with all the pollen in the air right now, but oh, so necessary to ready the host and nectar plants for our butterflies.
Ah, Margaret. This is beautiful. This line in particular just really got me: “where butterflies can come/back home.” What a joyful responsibility to keep these plants in our garden. Here, Mark mows around the stands of milkweed…and I love poofing the fluffs out come fall. xoxo, a.