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Poetry Friday round-up  is here today.  Leave your link .

Poetry Friday round-up is here today. Leave your link .

 

 

Hollyhocks don’t grow here in South Louisiana.  On a recent visit to upstate New York, I was attracted to their stately stalks with large blossoms.  We encountered a few at the local garden supplier in Hebron, NY.
purple hollyhocks

 

Later, Tara let me know that she went back and bought some for her garden.  

Hollyhocks at Old Bedlam Farm.

Hollyhocks at Old Bedlam Farm.

And then I encountered an image in Better Homes and Gardens. I didn’t order this magazine, but it seems to keep showing up in the mailbox.  I love the images of wild gardens that I could never grow.

 

 wild hollyhocks

While in New york, we visited Owl Pen books. I found a treasure, a collection of Emily Dickinson’s nature poems. I used the form of one of these poems and wrote my own version. This poem and the book are headed to my next poetry swap friend.

The Garden
After Emily Dickinson

I’ll tell you how the Hollyhocks rose–
A Blossom at a time–
The Petals glistened like Rubies–
The Bees and Hummers buzzed–
The Trees unfurled their branches–
The Bulbul–beloved–
Then I said softly to myself–
“That must have been the Dew!”
But how he wept–I saw not–
There seemed a dampness sincere
That little ants did clamor here
And led me to the waiting pew,
Woven easily among Lilies–
Morning Glories in blue–
And then I saw– You.

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