Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Stealing the sun 

Peruse the sketch
Upon your screen
My tiny sapling
In March grows green

With no snowberry 
Or thorns to protect it
It uses adaptations
To grow tall and fit

Although in shallow earth
In an indigo pot
It's happy as in a meadow
Avoiding ivy knots

As it becomes elder
Tawny twigs will grow
Clustered on the fence
Shunning any shadow

One day I'll see that
It's now stout-stemmed
That in stealing the sun
It's twisted at the end
But no bergamot fruit
Will grow on my tree
Through zigzag stems
Apples will be ready to leave
Upon that day
I patiently wait
For that apple crop
In their sun sweet state

Linked up at real toads where we were challenged to write a poem with words from The Book of Wild Flowers (National Geographic Society, 1924) from which the photo came.


Kim Nelson said...

And now I want to visit your garden!

Margaret said...

Quite a dreamy poem full of promise.

De said...

Me, too! Me, too!
What a gorgeous spill of words, Emma. :)
You did wonders with the list. Thank you!

Kay L. Davies said...

Very well done, Emma. A gardener's response to the prompt!

Anonymous said...

I can hardly wait for those wonderful apples! Very nice.

Susie Clevenger said...

What a wonderful piece you have created. I am like Kim. I would love to visit your garden.