Sky House is overdue for a “Staircase” (self-care) post. However, Lee is on an unscheduled “wellness hiatus”. In the meantime, here is some poetry prettiness from the sick bed…
Your exotic horticultural brush sweeps
full my palm with feel of cats paw in
retracted claw or, sleeping arctic shrew
your petal needles like haberdashery wound tight
threads unspool to bloom, already sunseed ended
before you fire a rocket in still life you are
true scarlet make roses weep at your pebbled feet
you brighter than blood brighter than tulips
on dark leaf you can embezzle Christmas
you are ecstasy indulgence colour effulgence
of gnarly old tree, arrive to me in
young hands greedy for, generous with beauty
your botanical incarnations of buddhist
lama’s bodies of joy, undulating tassels
celebrate abundance, the one amongst
many, all your neat little bundles in rows
progeny tucked in ruby oriental hair bows
food for inspiration whisper poems: paint
compositions in each cough of wind breath
embroidered flower fluffs branches
all for nourishment and pleasure of our bell
spoken, silver watching ones velvet tongues
hungry in cooler months for foreign feasts
all to free your tiny yellow seeds
to voyage possibilities, live circularities
Pohutukawa, Rata and the only Aussie I
ever truely loved is Banksia, honeysuckle
christmas blooms as red bottle-brush.
Thank you to the beautiful Anouk for administrating this post.
Meri Kirihimete, happy holidays, and a soulful solstice to all.
Photo by Don Ricardo on Unsplash
Sky House Poetry 