Child so proud, her own
small patch of garden.
Single seed planted,
watered painstakingly:
old rusty metal can.
Fat green shoot grows fast
like Jack’s rogue beanstalk.
Unfolding bud tracks the
arc of its inspiration,
daily journey, east to west.
Now full-blown head far
out of reach, tilted up
away, its golden mirror
hidden from eyes too near
the earth to see. Yet.
Child understands privacy,
ignores arms to lift her,
chair to stand on. Nor will
she try to bend the stalk:
flower cloistered in the sky.
Change creeps slowly. The
great head withers, stoops
to greet the child’s eyes which,
never having seen its fullness,
see only beauty in its death.
My contribution to Christine’s Invitation to Poetry.
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{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
Tess, this is such great imagery, I especially love “Jack’s rogue beanstalk” and “flower cloistered in the sky” Thanks for bringing this gift to the party.
so, tess…did you have a sunflower garden as a child?
Thanks Christine. I’m still extremely self-conscious about publishing my poetic efforts because I’m such a beginner, but I like the variety of styles in your poetry parties.
Lucy, you might think so, but no I didn’t. At least not that I can remember. The little child just popped into my head and I saw what she might be doing and thinking.
TESS!
You’ve been hiding your poetic talents? How DARE you! This was beautiful! I grow mammoth sunflowers and your poetry was so true. Now for more!
Tee hee, Maya thank you.
sigh.
that image is stunning.
Hi Tracey, thanks for visiting the site. I can’t take credit for the image though, you can see the original at Abbey of the Arts on the poetry invitation page. Her stuff is wonderful.