Flower

Bloom in sunshine delirious

from deep the ground mysterious

puts on a show for all of us

don’t make a fuss don’t make a fuss

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Before too long it will wither

turn dry and brown when we shiver

time to give thanks to the giver

oh come hither oh come hither

_______________

dVerse prompt to write a monotetra— eight syllables each rhyming line except for the fourth line which is a four count repeat. Of course I had to write about the garden.

Flower

Peter Piper

So many times

this nursery rhyme spoken

a tongue twister

with its own history

Pierre Poivre

missionary from France

with an eye on peppers

places to plant and grow

and a recipe for pickling

no refrigeration

so Peter Piper picked

and pickled

__________________

dVerse prompt on stream of consciousness following my first experiment with pickling peppers. This rhyme was a childhood favorite.

Peter Piper

Stoop and Conquer

In spring and summer most of my time is used in the garden

at times I think I have too much garden

 

Picking and plucking along the ground

weeds are like words in my garden

 

Time to share with hummingbirds and bees

who bury themselves in plants of the garden

 

Slugs don’t stand a chance if they climb through my fence

I will murder them if they enter green garden

 

I could buy a bag of peppers from the grocery store

would rather I harvest from plants in the garden

 

Joy of seeing a chipmunk or black-capped chickadee

as they pick out seeds from the garden

 

Now I know why my beans didn’t grow

because of that mole in my garden

 

________________________

dVerse prompt to write a ghazal

Stoop and Conquer

Churn

 

When summer came it was hot with no air conditioning.  None in the house or in the car, just midriff top, ponytail and short shorts.  I walked barefoot to the pool everyday, my soles grew tough from the  concrete.  When too hot to walk I rode my bike downhill, arms splayed out, look ma no hands, creating my own current of air all the way to the park and the pool.  My legs were strong from the journey home.

I loved butterflies, little green snakes and swimming, but mostly the weekends to churn the homemade ice cream.  The kids would turn the crank, add the rock salt and turn the crank more until the egg, cream and sugar mixture thickened.  Mom would serve it up after dinner.  There was no better way to chill than hand-churned ice cream.

 

temperature will rise

summer heat pours out memories

time not forgotten

______________________________
dVerse Haibun on summer

photo courtesy of Karen McDougal at KarensChicNShabby

Churn