At the end of each week I head to church to practice the music I'll be singing on the weekend. I could probably lead most of these songs in my sleep, but I feel better about croaking out songs at 8:30 on Sunday morning when I've had a bit of rehearsal.
This time of year my favorite thing about visiting the church is Father George's garden. Right now it is filled with gorgeous wildflowers. Seeing them today reminded me of this poem.
Wildflowers
by Reginald Gibbons
Coleridge carefully wrote down a whole page
of them, all beginning with the letter b.
Guidebooks preserve our knowledge
of their hues and shapes, their breeding.
Read the poem in its entirety.
I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Buffy Silverman at Buffy's Blog. Happy poetry Friday friends.
I've never visited your blog before (I'm new to Poetry Friday), and I love the title "Miss Rumphius Effect!" Tomorrow I'll be going to a garden show, so I'll keep "Wildflowers" tucked in my pocket. :-)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful.
ReplyDeleteSing well on Sunday!
Here's my attempt, version 3:
ReplyDeleteWeeds
Like unwanted immigrants,
they take over our fields.
We scythe them down,
hoping to cultivate,
tame their colors,
these weedy invaders.
Speak English, we caution them,
live within the borders.
But not these wildflowers,
weedy over-achievers,
leggy and ambitious.
They just keep on reaching for the sky.
©2014 Jane Yolen all rights reserved
Ah, Lady Jane's back! Yay!
ReplyDeleteI thought of you, croaking out hymns at the early service. Go, you. Meanwhile, thanks for the wildflowers - I have killed two pots of poppies (HOW??? It's the state flower, it grows by the freeway. HOW???? idk) and have given up on the fancy ones until it cools. But, the happiest butterfly flowers in the world are blooming, blooming...
I hope your singing went well over the weekend. Loved the wildflowers. :)
ReplyDelete