Flower Moon
Weaving Years
Intricately woven baskets, made of
wild grasses, gathered from the hills where black bears graze in the summer haze --
(like a light-weight woolen blanket
faded in the fog of time's washing).
Weaving years into stories under
starry skies, celestial fires
burning in the brightness of our lives.
These artifacts remain, irrefragable - like the song of a bird echoing through a sunlit traceried vale - to our once being here -- passing through the pale.
note
Recently while packing up the house of a friend who had passed away I came across some beautiful old hand-crafted grass baskets, and some lovely old woolen blankets that have withstood the test of time, still vibrant and functional, as if they were made yesterday.
Bearded Iris
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© 2020 Verlie Burroughs
Comments
you are a powerful writer no doubt...
I loved reading it ❤
Hi Verlie. Sorry I'm late, and to to hear of your loss. Beautiful words. What I so love about your poetry is that you understand how words can be creative instruments of the imagination that is truly boundless. You have that gift. :-)
- AUTHOR
Dear Maria, Hello been offline awhile just seeing your note now. Thank you for your empathetic reading. I'm not finished with this poem, and your comment is helpful, thanks for that.
Dear Verlie,
Your friend lives on, as you honor these precious memories.
I'm sorry for your loss.
Love,
Maria
- AUTHOR
Oh gosh Dora, t I just got a little teary eyed reading that. Have to take a moment here to regain my composure. Thank you so much.
Beautiful expressions! "Like the song of a bird," your words make me want to listen/read over and over.
I'm not sure of the exact name of the iris but mine look exactly like this. The yellow ones are the local flag iris that can be found amongst the reeds in our 'rhynes', the local name for the irrigation ditches over the levels in Somerset (areas which are below sea-level). Both have been prolific this year, as indeed have many of my plants. I think it's what gardeners call 'a good year'!
Ann
- AUTHOR
Thank you Ann, I'm not so sure about that, but I will treasure your comment anyway. I don't know what happened with the Iris this year, they just exploded. Usually there are two or three that boom, but I counted 15 stems just loaded with buds. I wonder if it was the wood ash I dumped on the flower bed over winter? Are your Iris exactly like these? There are a gazillion different varieties, do you know what these guys are called? So gorgeous eh. The yellow sounds nice too. Thanks again Ann.
- AUTHOR
And Lorna, (sorry, I'm out of order here) Thanks so much for your generous response. Much appreciated.
- AUTHOR
Bill...Bill...Bill you sure know how to make a struggling poet feel good, what can I say? Thank you, you made my day!
- AUTHOR
Thank you John, I'm thrilled that you consider me a 'true' poet. High praise indeed. You made me smile. I appreciate the encouragement, very kind of you to read and comment.
- AUTHOR
Many thanks manatita. I guess what I was trying to say here is that time takes it toll on us, but the beautiful things we create are long lasting.
Bill's got it in one - 'you make words sing'! Wonderful!
I have irises just like that in my garden; yellow ones too.
Ann
- AUTHOR
Hey Eric I appreciate you reading, thank you kindly.
Weaving years into stories under
starry skies, celestial fires
burning in the brightness of our lives.
These artifacts remain, irrefragable - like the song of a bird echoing through a sunlit traceried vale - to our once being here -- passing through the pale
Verlie, this is incredible! Seriously incredible writing! You are in a very small minority of poets who can make words sing. I stand in awe of your poetic talent, my friend.
A wonderful poem full of the simplicity of nature, and the joy of discovery. I feel a little piece of our own history remains when we leave a home. Beautiful writing Verlie.
Verlie, what a wonderful way to describe old grass baskets and blankets. A true writer can use anything for inspiration. Lovely images as well. I love irises.
Yes, some people have been meticulous all their lives and especially with the home.
Your poetry is more than exquisite. It is sublime! Much Love.
I appreciate you sharing this. Thank you.
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