Okay honey Let's spell pollinate With a bit of math Anther + stigma = fertilization Let's pollinate for a spell Under the quilt Then over the river And through the woods Without any cover we go Making babies in summertime May we reap What we sow
Found on the pavement from fingertip to shoulder laid out stretched out onto a palm like one of those beautiful twisted daisy heads. Stroked hair behind an ear and whispered “you're fading out, honey” and fire spread from limb to the door frame and you shut yourself out downstream cut the yarn with oversized scissors and then fingertip to shoulder collarbone to knee, waist to heel, bent and folded. They found you like one of those beautiful twisted daisy heads.
Pollinating a red flower in a frenzy, a blue butterfly ruminates: "This act,a prompt, nature coincides with time,is hardly appreciated" "You tickle me, in a way I haven't known ever,Yes, I love it" twitching involuntarily the flower seems to hold on to that moment. " After all, we couple in the interest of posterity, let's not forget"
the air seized it’s chance today screaming “**** me!” and every seed burst obligingly in a torrent of stars and silken hope yet a mere quarter hence the deciduous mantle will slip, dowager dry and lentigo browned, to dance tiny pirouettes with devils of dust & grit amongst a litter of sepia confetti as summer’s rusted brides fall their contract fulfilled
+ In honour of all the cotton fluff filling the air today here’s a older reflection of a previous years event +
A butterfly is beautiful until you feel you're sly, moving close to touch her wings, and then she may not fly. But on her feet is magic that makes one flower, two.... Disturbing the dainty butterfly Means fewer blooms for you. Wonder, gently.
I wrote this poem inspired by experience. At the time I was reminded that my pop always used to say, "You can wonder and wonder, and you'll still never know." I realized how much we hurt others when we make assumptions.