Redwood tree absorbs the mist.
Jasmine fragrance fills th air.
Scarlet, hot pink, peach, orange and multicolored
rose blooms grace the garden wall.
Hummingbirds drink nectar from the feeder
in the lilac bush.
Morning joy.
Delights 6
roses
“Barbie Doll”–in honor of my mother
Barbara Lewis Duke, pretty, petite, blue-eyed and blond, my
mother, one fearless, controlling woman. Long after Mom’s
death, Dad said, “Barbara was afraid of absolutely on one
and nothing.” They married late, 34 & 38. He adored her
unconditionally. She filled my life with horses, music, love,
cornfields, hay rides, books, and ambition. Whatever she felt she
had missed, my sister and I were going to possess: books,
piano lessons, a college education. Her father, who died long
before I was born, loved fancy, fast horses. So did she. During
my preschool, croupy years, she quieted my hysterical night
coughing with stories of run away horses pulling her in a wagon.
With less than one hundred pounds and lots of determination,
she stopped them, a tiny Barbie Doll flying across the Missouri
River Bottom, strong, willful, free.
Note: This was first published in an anthology and later in my poetry memoir, “On the Rim of Wonder.” My mom loved the color pink and roses, had a rose garden. In the summer there were always crystal bowls on the dining table with roses floating. Today I have roses floating in two stemmed crystal bowls in my kitchen.
Imagine–1
Imagine a world full of roses.
A Poem for National Poetry Month
roses
rainbow colors
joy
Mother’s Roses
roses, lush
pink, red, coral
roses floating in crystal bowls
remind me of my mother
her rose garden by the barn
summer roses on her kitchen table
An Afternoon Stroll at The Huntington
Friday, I decided to look around at parts of The Huntington since I had not been there in a while. For one thing, I knew the roses would be in full bloom, and even though I had been there a number of times, I had never looked around the rose garden. They did not disappoint.
Find the bird among the roses.
The building is the newly reopened Tea Room.
This rose has perfume as part of its name and smells divine.
I left the rose area and strolled in the herb garden seen above. Then I found a new kind of artichoke, Opera Artichoke. See below.
Facing away from the rose garden I could see all the way to downtown Los Angeles.
This tree is labeled Naked Coral.
Then I strolled through the tropical garden area.
Fig trees.
After leaving the tropical area, I wandered around cactus and succulent gardens.
In Honor of Earth Day
In honor of Earth Day
I present you roses:
may they bring joy
feelings of renewal
a sense of beauty
value of our precious planet.
Spring in LA County
Flowers grace life with beauty
Flowers bring everyone joy
Flowers invite humans to hike, laugh, love
Flowers sing songs of peace.
Winter Evening
Orange pink shadows ripple across the turquoise pool water.
Pumpkin colored and purple leaves drift across the rosemary,
land, bright little boats floating across the turquoise water.
A phoebe, dressed in his grey tuxedo coat and white tie,
flits along the red tile at water’s edge.
Green, minuscule, a hummingbird hovers among the scarlet salvia.
Fuschia, peach, deep red roses glow in the setting sun.
Suddenly, howls break the evening silence.
Coyotes, joyful, sing to each other,
preparing for the nightly hunt.
In Memory of Mother’s Roses
Mother’s rose garden
flowers for the family table
all my childhood summers.
Red, pinks, snowy.
No roses for decades
except those given, bouquets,
mostly red.
Now, I look out every window, roses
Pinks, reds, orange, lavender, yellow, snowy.
I love them, cut them,
And remember my mother.
writingontherim 