Pink Peonies

18. September 2008 · Filed under: Photos, Poetry · 2 Comments 

The peonies are hung-over again,
dew-drunk from loitering in the moonlight,
after taunting the crab apples and redbuds
for having bloomed too soon after the snow.

Lashing out at the daylilies for their dysfunctional
shriveling from a single day of romance with sunlight,
and castigating those whores, the crocus, for being teased
into blossom by a few warm February rays, has become a ritual.

The mornings are now beautiful sermons.
On a manger of mulch, the peonies seem
to be sleeping. Through the sip and swallow of my hot coffee
I thought I heard a hiss or whisper.

It may have been the dogwood,
perhaps the hydrangea, saying to the lilac,
“Look at those pink dumb-asses.
That’s what happens when you get a big head.”

Poem titled The Morning After ©2007 by Steve Meador.

Image courtesy of tollen @ Flickr.

A Bee’s Life

30. August 2008 · Filed under: Photos · 1 Comment 

Disclaimer: No bees or photographers were hurt in the snapping of this photo.

Special thanks to Lordtrilink!

Dandelion

26. July 2008 · Filed under: Poetry · 1 Comment 

I wrote this poem in January and it was featured on my old blog. I thought I would repost it here.

I remember the first time I saw her-
she stood out in the crowd with her delicate golden hair.
How it shined in the sunlight!
I adored watching the light pass through the strands,
glistening as she swayed to and fro.

I loved that dance.

Then one day I noticed her hair was no longer golden, but white.
Had I not noticed the change?
Had time cheated me of relishing in her beauty and scent?
Or had all the long hours
seemed diminished to a few fond memories?

Even though she was now much more fragile and her scent had changed,
she was still my girl.

Until one day as I looked out my window I saw a mere child pluck her up and blow into her luminous hair,
and I watched as it scattered into the breeze and all that was left was her lifeless body,
thrown aside like a weed.
A tear flowed down my cheek as I stood there watching her demise.

Oh, how I had loved her.

But where there is death, there is birth
and now I count the days until I can watch her beautiful children grow.


Poem titled Dandelion. Photos courtesy of Stock Xchng.

Copyright © 2008 April Nanney