Frozen Daisies.

By maisie

Mon, 21 Apr 2014
  • 1765 reads
4 comments
 

I

Frozen Daisies on the grass,
makes me think of ice and glass...
How cruel your fingers
as the stem
breaks.

Enclosed:
their beauty soars past the glow
of the rose,  star-crossed lovers
hum incessant meanings prior begun.
.
Blood between your fingers wells,
thicker than water. Still silence -
of the Blackbird's song, although
its past morning. Yet he's never done.

II
.
Oh!  I've missed the Blackbird's call.
Outside he'll have pecked for worms
as I pluck for words, juicy; quick.
Too cold in Arctic winds for fears.
.
Crush the Daisies under foot
as ice shatters
into glass: when I'm unsure
whose hurt who. Frost bite

blackens the whitest flower.
It's all too blinkered  inside glass.
How cruel we are.  How base -
beside the flower.

(c) Rosalind J. Lee 2014.

 

Certificate U
Poem
ElasticBand
Spiritual

Comments

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Really liked this, Maisie...the imagery, your use of vocabulary, and the layout.  Especially admired the stanza about the blackbird.

Good stuffsmiley

Tina 

 

Submitted by maisie on

Thank  you for the praise Tina, I think the end isn't quite up to standard yet.  I've been working on it since the last cold snap, when the daisies were actually frozen masterpeices :) Rosalind

maisie angel Guess what?  I'm still alive!

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Rather fascinating idea about plucking for words that feel juicy, like a blackbird finding his worms. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by maisie on

I'm glad you liked the blackbird.  He's an old pal, who wintered in the bushes in the midst of the lawn, as he was slightly broken.  I fed him on worms all winter (I had to put them in hot water and let them swell) stunk awful,, he got so friendly he'd perch on the windowsil to tell me it was time for some food.

Now he's foraging for himself again, and the other birds arn't attacking, so it's all good. 

maisie angel Guess what?  I'm still alive!