Poetry Friday: A Botany Poem

I have been soaking in Amy Merrick's stunning blog An Apple A Day whenever I get a spare minute. Between that, spring being present and spring cleaning addling my brain a bit my thoughts have become quite blossom-soaked. Why fight it? Spring wants to be center-stage...so let her.

Flowers on Dancing Woman (Photo credit: TheArches)

My poem today is all about this very favorite season of mine...and maybe explains a bit of the madness we all feel suddenly at this time of year. May she ever shake her blossomy mane on my street....

Sunlit leaves in spring with and without backlight (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Once A Sensualist Dame...

Spring is doing her passionate tarentella
All down our block and the next one too
Pursing her bold red tulips and fiercely
Kicking up chartruese, grassy spears.
She shakes her tinkling forsythia mane
And drops rings of daffodil at every door.
She lays herself a rosy, blossom rug on
The corner under the lush magnolia tree.
Where she blows a flirty kiss of pear petal
Confetti after every oblivious, passing car.
She winks a forget-me-not eye in each yard,
Reaches her long, leaf-tipped limbs skyward
And performs a saucy, hosta-fringed hip-roll
That always leaves my old house open-doored
Lolling dusty rugs from every window.

Wall painting from Stabiae: Flora with the cornucopia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You can find the other Poetry Friday participants contributions over at Book Talk, today's host blog. Feel free to chip in with your own additions too! Participation is open to all....just link up and join the throng.

My Happy Place

 We all have our "happy places" right? The kind of place you go when life is rough and you're not sure you can make it, the kind of place where you go and you instantly know you're going to make it. The kind of place that can make it all okay again. On of my happy places is Panera Bread.

Another one is this greenhouse. We make a point of going every year and have for five or six years running now. It is best to go in the dead of winter, when you've hit the dregs and are not sure you believe in spring anymore.

 You'd never know we were in a greenhouse in Connecticut. I feel like I'm in deepest jungle in Costa Rica...somewhere always warm, misty humid and vibrant with life.

This citrus tree has ten varieties grafted into it.

 This is one of those places I wish I could live. And a place that it's honestly good we don't live down the road from because I would work there for free for sure...and A might not like that.

Here is the entrance...the happy world you walk into through that door of light.

Oh Spring, am holding on for you! Come soon. Okay?

(The greenhouse we visit is Logee's, of catalog fame...you can go too if you find yourself nearby!)