White Rose

As a bride adorns herself with her jewels, 
so the Lord God will cause righteousness
 and praise to spring up.

From Isaiah 61

White rose, you are 

Like a wedding in one bundle,

Silk and satin of a bride's gown,

White, white, white for purity 

Tiara of gold for honour, for dignity

Circle of gold for commitment and endurance

Touch of pink, like a flower girl's dress,

For innocence, for sweetness, for fun

White, white, white for true love

White rose, you glow with beauty, with glory, 

Sparked with yellow for light, for truth, and for joy

You are fragile as love that must be tended

Underneath—green for growing, 

Strengthening, renewing,

Love reblooms 

More beautiful each time.

Home

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

Be it ever so humble there's no place like home.

John Howard Payne

Home is where seven-sisters roses trundle on the gate;.

Home is where the door is always open late

Home is where supper waits to warm your plate

Home is where the morning glories grow.

A Good Read

"Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, 

 I  would still plant my apple tree." 

Martin Luther

I chose the book carefully

Mystery tale with the scent of the library

My favorite smell

I climbed up into the apple tree

Pulled my book up in a bucket after me

My favorite place

 Settled on a branch with a view

Chose an apple, red-skinned and white-speckled,

My favorite fruit

Sat quiet—and bit into it

While I sucked the sour apple's juice

My favorite story

Pasture

How wonderful, O Lord, 

are the works of Your hands....

The beasts of the field, the birds of the air bespeak

 Your wondrous will. 

Hebrew Prayer

Painted pony,

Grazing in the late summer pasture

Munching green prairie grass

Tail swishing away flies

Mane blowing in a light breeze

Do you see the barbed wire as a prison wall

Or the safe boundary of a home?

Apple Pie

I will send you rain in its season

 and the ground will yield its crops 

and the trees their fruit.

Leviticus 26:4

There is applesauce bubbling
 And a crusty deep dish pie

 Cortland, Granny Smith, and Northern Spy,

All the finest cultivars

Red Delicious, Enterprise, Elegant, and Rome
The smell of spicy sweetness calling us home;

To crisps, juice, and jellies

Pippin, Winesap, and Arkansas Black

Johnathan, Jonagold, and Jonamac

Macintosh, Honeycrisp, 

Red, green, and the prettiest yellow
Honeycrisp, Ozark Gold, and Sunnimellow

Autumn comes and summer goes

With apples, apples, apples.

Orchard

Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, 

I would still plant my apple tree.

Martin Luther

Green
 Orbs of white flesh
 And syrupy sweet tart juice
Wrapped in polka-dotted green 
Sunshine. Apples, apples, apples
Hanging ripe—ready to be picked 
Stems twisted and plucked 
So firm and real in my hand 
So imperfectly perfect 
Apples.

Sunlight

The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, 

shining ever brighter till the full light of day. 

Proverbs 4:18

 The sun's so bright in August

The sunflowers nod their heads

Groggy–sleepy–warm

By noon.

The sun with rays like primary

Yellow strokes on a child's painting

Bold–golden–rich

By God.

Is copied by this blossom

A sun on each stem–full faced

Boisterous–beautiful–loved

By me. 

Let's Go That-A-Way

Stylin' in Arkansas

Taking a Sunday afternoon drive

Going nowhere particular

Cruisin' Main; feeling free.

Rollin' down the highway 

Following a dream

Seeking my fortune

Rockin' to my tunes.

Bonnet

"One generation passes away and another generation comes,
but the earth abides forever."
Ecclesiastes 1:4

Great great grandma wore a bonnet

When she worked with her garden hoe

When she planted lettuce and radishes

And cleared the weeds from every row.

Grandmother wore a bonnet like this 

When she hung her laundry to dry

Fastening sheets with clothes pins

Out under the blazing blue sky.

My bonnet's just for playing

Pretending to be a pioneer

Working hard in my house on the prairie

Like she did in yesteryear.

Onions

"The present contains nothing more than the past."

Henri Bergson

Even the lowliest vegetable plants

Bear the most wonderful blooms

White as Easter lilies,

Soft as egret's plumes.

Petals perfectly symmetrical,

Masterfully designed

Bustled about by bumblebees

Considering such a find.

Swaying on leafless green straw stems

Stately as elegant roses 

Snowballs of flowers—onions 

Scented as sweetly as posies.

For You

"In search of my mother's garden, I found my own."

Alice Walker

I picked it from your garden

For you, Mama!

It's twirly as a ballerina skirt;

It's pink—my bestest color.

I sniffed it with my nose;

It smelled beeuww-ti-ful

Like you, Mama. 

Basket

"Do not handle brightness lightly;
It is the deepest darkness of our candle flicker."
Richard Montfort Cary

Grasses woven by nimble fingers,

Dried into a basket that can

Carry apples from the orchard,

Tomatoes, cucumbers from the garden

A picnic lunch to the sandy beach,

Pecans gathered from the big tree 

At the foot of the hill

Pinecones from the woods,

Pears in September.

Sturdy handles—easy, soft to grip, 

Balanced, breathable wicker

Washed with rain,

Dried by wind and sun

Full of the smell of fruit,

The smell of summer,

The scent of flowers

Carried in dried grasses
Woven by nimble fingers.

Earth Laughs

Earth laughs in flowers.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

The zinnia is surely the happiest flower

Dancing with abandon in an afternoon shower

Dressed in bright colors that startle and surprise

Wearing a crown of yellow.

He laughs at the weather: whatever—no matter

Sways to the heat waves; his petals like pennants flutter
Robust and hearty, he sings through the dog days

Impressive, the dapper young fellow.

His stems and leaves grow in glorious disarray

Joyous to be alive, lighthearted come what may;
When the leaves brown with shorter days
Only then his bold colors mellow.

Crape Myrtle

Oklahoma summers linger,

Hot and weary, but pieces are
Painted with red, white, purple, and pink.
Flowers fluttering in the morning breezes,

Nodding sleepy still in the afternoon heat

Notice how how they rest in sweetness

Sweet scented as roses. Stop! 

Smell the crape myrtle;

Smell the soft ruffled 

Color of summer!

Oklahoma summers dry

Grass to hay, people to weariness.

Painted with red, white, purple, and pink 

Growing in back alleyways, beside old houses, 

Outside my bedroom window, there they thrive

Ornamenting businesses; shading parking lots;

They're everywhere. Listen!

Hear them singing to the thrum of cicadas.

Hear the sweetest musical

Color of summer!

Rose

Nature is the art of God.

Thomas Browne

Love note—direct mail

From heaven

Scented with summer night air,

Loaded with sunshine,

Moonlight and dewdrops,

Speaking to us when we spare

A minute to stop

To notice 

God has a message to share 

Rose, you're a letter

From heaven 

Sending us God's love and care.

Zip Past

Earth's crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God;

But only he who sees takes off his shoes;

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Along the white-striped highway

Cars and trucks 
Zip past,

East and west
Zip past,

While just there beside,

Blazing Stars, 

Like Fourth-of-July sparklers,

Fizzling and sizzling

With purple pizazz,

Shoot up 

(Surprise!) 

From the ditch grasses.

In plain view

Butterflies by the thousands 

Sip the sweet grape soda nectar

Cars zip past, 

Zip past,

Zip past,

And I like to think
Zip past

Zip past 
No one sees

 No one—zip past
But me.

Barbed Wire

There is not a sprig of grass that shoots 

uninteresting to me.

Thomas jefferson

Framed by barbed wire

August is picture perfect with

Green grass beginning to brown

Along the pasture fence,

  Set with lemony wildflowers,

Alive with wind and heat,

Inhabited by leggy grasshoppers,

Watched over by yellow-throated

Meadowlarks singing 

From fence post perches,

 Inspected daily by gossamer-winged

Dragonfly drones.

Rainy Afternoon

Who can number the clouds by wisdom? Or who can pour out the bottles of heaven...? 
Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, 
that an abundance of water may cover you?

Job 38:34, 37 and 38

The sun slinks behind 

Thin grey clouds

Afternoon sky as hot as an

Oven waiting for loaves of bread

Cools with a sigh of relief

 Cools at the shower of heaven's

Bottled water poured out

From the frosty upper 

Reaches of the sky

God watering His garden

Blessing His earth with rain.

Oncore

God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone, 
but on trees and flowers and clouds and stars.

Martin Luther

Take a bow, Rose.

As you leave the stage

Hear my applause?

May it be boisterous enough to

Please you,

Call you back

Center stage for another

Spectacular bloom and dance

Another thrilling solo.

Outside my window

 And the earth brought forth... And God saw that it was good 
and the evening and the morning were the third day. 

Genesis 1:12–13

In the cool of the morning,

You open to drink dew drops

For breakfast tea,

To bask in the rising sun.

From my window I see you,

Bright and boasting

God's artistic talents, 

His creative skill, 

For here you bloom,

Some million dawns later, 

As you bloomed that 

Third morning in Eden. 

Exploring

Follow me, Little Sister

Let's go! Westward ho!

Let's find a place to play 

Where we can stay all day

In the woods, in the pasture

Wherever we go, hi-ho, hi-ho

Hurry up; come faster.

Explorin'— outdoorin' 

Follow me, now;

Follow me; Let's go!

Rose of Sharon

I am a rose in the Plain of Sharon,
 the lily of the valleys. 

Ca. 2:1

White cup with scalloped rim

With a sip of hibiscus tea

Left in your bowl—sweet honey

Bee lure, tonight you will curl

Your skirts around you,

Drop to the dewy grass

So another of your siblings

Sleeping on your budded branch

Has room to unfurl 

In glory at the sunrise. 

Memory

"Of the five senses through which we experience life, 
scent unquestionably has the most power  to evoke memory." Hallmark 

Passing
The garden, I smell it

That musky smell of fruit,

Like perfume in a bottle. 

The leaves vining along the fence

Seem to have more 

Scent than the

Fast growing green melon

Still, I can smell it ripe.

I picture the bumpy rind

And orange insides

See them split, seeds 

Spooned out, sliced 

Into bite-sized pieces

At Grandma June's hand

Taste it sweet and summer sunny 

With my lunch—again at supper 

Again at breakfast with biscuits, 

Bacon, eggs, and Mayhaw jelly

I remember, more than smell,

Another day—long past

And crave it.

Schoolgirls

Happy bright faced girls

Ready for first day of school.

Before you lies mystery, raw 

Adventure of learning. Soon

You will be gobbling up books 

Full of words—traveling the world

Through history and geography,

Soon you will be able to add

Subtract, and you'll figure the days

To Christmas break and summer's

Happy return!

Leafhopper

Your leaf disguise only 

Works for the deafest birds;

You give yourself away 

With your interminable rasping 

Whistle. When summer is over

I will not miss your song

From the crape myrtle

Outside my bedroom window.

Dancers

Like ballerinas 

Beginners all tuffed in 

Sweet sugary-colored 

Tutus ready for a first 

Day of practice 

For an upcoming recital

Ready for mom's camera flash,

Stage lights and applause.

What fun!

Painted bunting

Like a bright bit of kite
Tangled in a tree's branches
Stop Mr. Bunting
Let me see your true colors:

Blue as the sky on a summer day

Red as a candied apple

Green as the leaves on the sycamore tree

Yellow as lemon pie

Sing and flit in the treetops

I will not give your hiding place away.

Come and eat at my feeder.

Bumblebee

"I bomme, as the bombyll bee dothe" John Palsgrave

Bombyll bee

Worker, to your duty

Spread life

Spread sunshine

Carry the pollen

Flower to flower

Bloom to bloom

Bumblebee

Zinnias

Orange that holds the sun

Pink like sticky candy 

Zinnias flee summer inside

To my windowsill

To drink from a canning jar

To cool from the 

Heated nights where
Moths visit their crowned heads.

Bouquet

In the morning a lily

Opens to the light

Curving pink petals

Arms overhead
Like a ballerina

Spinning on tiptoe

To music 

Greeting the day.

Apricot Rose

Apricots ripe from the orchard

I can smell them still and feel

Fuzzy nap, the color of peaches

Salmon. We wash them and dry. 

"Oh, gentle now", cut them in two

Pry out the pit with its almondy seed

Heat them in syrup and spoon into hot 

Glass jars for the canner to boil and seal

Mama lifts them from the bubbling water. 

They sit on a red-stripped kitchen towel

To cool. As I go on up to bed,

I stop to look at the stacked circles,

Touch the lids to check each seal—go

Dream to the spicy sweet summer smell.

Apricots ripe from the orchard;

I can smell them still.