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A lively little thing
bounces around in the rain
Stretches languidly
toward the nourishing sun
Curls up early
when day is done

Purple is her favorite
along with yellow, white and blue
A stronger more resilient one
is rare to find for sure
In fact in all the world
this one holds the cure

You might think
I speak of the beautiful
flower above
In part this would be true
But in all the world
Viola – there’s no better friend than you!

Dedicated to my soul-sister friend Viola!

Tiny white bells that bears adore
little red berries produce so much more
A plant unknown by its proper name
play along to find my flowers nickname

I am known throughout the world
to restore good health when swirled
Into juice and squished or squeezed
you can have me any way you please

My ancestors used this bearberry
in ceremonies to make them merry
Used as medicine as we do now
but do not feed these ever to a cow

If you have figured out my name
you’ve well and truly played my game
In this poem above a line or two
you’ll find my name known to you

In response to bwarren’s challenge
The Sunday Whirl Wordle #602

Dancing in a line, willing
someone of the opposite
gender or perhaps the same
to take a risk and ask
seven bodies to dance.

Granted the desire to build
and learn a proper repertoire
to garner fame and fortune
in name and reputation,
was a ticket to eventual heartache.

Better to stay home safe
and sound where the only
competition is the bathroom
mirror and the fantastic acoustics
rising from the shower walls.

Shamans of old used
your wondrous juice
as a balm to clear bad spirits
when minds were unclear

To open the way for visions –
renewal – grace and hope
you bring innocence back
to even the most distraught

A trumpet flower
springs forth from the winter void
heralding a time of rebirth
to an earth long asleep

Glory, Courage, Anxiety, Failure, Defeat, Delight, Confusion, Calm, Belief, Cleverness, Despair, Honesty, Deceit, Strength Choose an abstract noun from the list above and use that as the title for a poem that contains very short lines and at least one invented word.

Confusion

With delight
and perhaps
a touch of cleverness,

This calm poem
is written
without deceit.

With honesty
and courage
anxiety a tad,

This author
in the belief
and without failure,

Shall not relinquish
defeat in using all
these challengiest words.

With glory, strength
and no despair
success obtained!

A sage of old,
a healer, a balm
a decorative plume
for the gardener’s garden.

Ancient and revered
throughout time,
a salve, a powder,
a tea or a smoke.

Its brilliant beauty
and gentle scent
are favorites placed
in a lovely bouquet.

Bees and butterflies
use Salvia profusely,
beware it’s effect in excess
you may start behaving quite loosely.

It is with deep regret
when in the early afternoon
I must cease what I love best
to stop and allow my body room

Room to rest and cool down
from the sun I worshipped before
Before my bones ached and joints
popped like fireworks on the Fourth

The Fourth of July has nothing
compared to the sounds of my body
Just to bend over and pluck a weed
from between stones of my walkway

With angst and quite an influx
of disbelief at the state I am now in
When active and non-stationary
in life my body and I have always been

I protest this thing I am experiencing
at this time when in the golden years
I am supposed to be free and thriving
Yet free I am not in old imprisonment

So I rest here in my comfy recliner
throughout the heat of the afternoon
Yet mark the words of this old woman
I will be back out in my garden very soon!

Inconspicuous little plant
your runners sneak
beneath the most ardent eye.

Little bits of grassy leaves,
barely visible entwined
with bigger garden plants.

Oh, but wait until Spring
and the first torrential rain
and a Rain Lily field will ascend.

Suddenly as if conjured
by a Garden Witch’s magic wand,
thousands of blooms arise.

Colors galore, pop up from the Earth,
lifting graceful petals from the snow as the sun coats the ground in its warmth.

In an effort to be romantic
at the beginning
of their new marriage
this is true there’s no yard-spinning

Father foraged near and far looking for a star flower reminding him
of grandma’s hand-sewn
Swedish lace doilies again

Finally he came upon
a field that was miles and miles wide filled from top to bottom
with the lacey blooms he had in mind

He stopped and picked those flowers
full blooms every one
Then took them home and placed
them in containers all over the room

Mother came home and took a breath
a strange look upon her face
before she could utter a word
wild sneezing did commence

She sneezed so hard she could barely breathe and off to the hospital they went Mother’s angry red face the only clue he’d get

After shots of Benadryl and
some magic drops in her nose
She was sent home her new
husband in sad repose

Upon entry into the house now
clear of all white flora
She asked my father tell me true
Why try to kill me with that horror ?

He answered her quite sheepishly
at least that’s how I’m told it goes
You said you had some allergies
I equated with a runny nose

She told him again same as she did back then Queen Anne’s Lace makes me deathly ill – so if you forget again I might make a mistake and give you a

☠️ Penicillin Pill! ☠️

Body betrays
sleep evades
endless pain
relenting – unending

No relief
alone misunderstood
quiet torture
endurance – futile

Future unseen
past contorted
daily aggrandized
nights – interminable

Suffering companionless
fatigue victorious
solitude unbearable
reprieve – unimaginable