Oak-leaf hydrangea blooms,
Have a sweetness that's profound.
When the wind takes the sweetness,
The bees come from all around.

They are perennial plants,
Growing well under the trees.
They have a scent that's fragrant,
With it noses they can seize .

They like it in a full sun,                            
And can bloom there well also.
The oak-leaf hydrangea,      
In tree shade and sun both grow.

Oak-leaf hydrangea blooms,
Excels the man-made perfumes.           






                        I

Bright green buds on dead sticks as Hydrangea, like Lazarus, rises.

I can’t wait to be a hundred;
turning over the thoughts
and plots, of Caledon
floating on Zimmer inserts
and dusted Florsheims
three steps forward
in a dream woven
summer afternoon

Through the barn doors
and bee keeper flats
assimilating voices
from Sachems
and Forbes
and Hope Healers
coming and going
as the countryman
comes and goes

You can feel it
in a place like this
the 3 in the tree memories
of Allis Chalmers
and combine parts
of Sundrim poppers
and shallow carp fields
of patterned lawsons
and fading caulk
(on the ripped and rolled
frontier seats)

it’s a wishing well
for the peddler
and bold hydrangea...
both peeking their way
through the rusted
grinders wheel