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Posts Tagged ‘flowers’

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It’s almost too much –

the bee in the center of the rose,

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the hummer mating

with the hot pink flute of August,

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puffs of clover in the honey

tied up in a bow

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with golden mari

and the lion’s yellow dandi.

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Oh glorious!

I must sometimes turn away –

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no wonder that the fly

needs a thousand eyes.

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© 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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Photo taken in 2014, Edmonds, Washington

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Neon-lit flowers

spill from their wooden barrel,

“Catch me if your can!”

 

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Young evergreen trees

reach out their limbs for a hug

and I shall comply.

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(c) 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Photos from my back yard, yesterday…)

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When we let it grow

a weed might just surprise us

with uncut beauty.

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(c) 2014, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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She talks to trees

and birds,

to flowers, bees

and dragonflies.

They like to hear

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how beautiful they are

and then they whisper

their own story

and she listens

care fully.

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(c) 2013, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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.(revision of an older poem)

.Photo taken in 2010 with my old camera

 

 

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Tight-clenched bud

lets go

its knotty grip

and rigid reveries

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yields its petals

to the pull

of sunlight

through the trees

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all the while

Gaia smiles

and sends for

honeybees.

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(c) 1977, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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I’m a stranger to this land.

Pray, what are these graceful creatures

with plush yellow blossoms

waving lightly

in the early afternoon?

Such a lovely garden you have.

But why are you cutting them down?

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“They’re dandelions!”

you say with disgust.

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Puzzling,

I bid you farewell

and walk away

tripping on a tin can

in the street.

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(c) 1991, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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Earth Tones

Legion Park flowers

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Summer loses its neon edge,

turns more to the gentle shades

of terracotta, celadon green,

and lavender gone to seed.

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Gaia takes a weary breath,

gathers her spent offspring

into a hushed circle.

There she tells them stories

of blithering winds 

and biting snow,

and cold, cold, cold.

You must rest, she says.

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Oh no, not yet, they beg her,

pointing to a shrinking

ray of sun.

And over on the hillock

there is one more splash of pink.

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Gaia smiles and nods her head.

There will be time enough

for them to sleep.

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©  2016  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Photo taken last week in nearby park.)

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