SUMMERS WILDFLOWERS (POETRY DUET W/ SEAN BIDD)

Reaching between the red cracked clay

Where the rains passed last wet season

And gave beauty meaning and reason

To be anything but dry because wildflowers were alive

And had eyes that saw everything

And nothing

Parched now waiting once more, for the dry, the drought to break

To come alive in the wet of snowflakes

The embrace of a season new

To hear the laughter on the old tin roof

In the long pause

To hear fresh again

The giggle of the trees

Birds playing hide and seek with the breeze

The water’s edge pressing at the front door

To bring on the wildflowers once more

Their dreamy scents

 Sounds

Of colors out beyond eyes reach

Buried between the martyrs of fall

Preserving its innocents until the seasons call

Sit with me awhile

To take it all in

Waiting to be beckoned

To kiss the rain again

The aroma brings a shift in power

As the moon shines on

A Summer of Wildflowers

OTHER DUETS BY SEAN AND ME

https://mentalnotes1.wordpress.com/2013/05/02/2034/

https://mentalnotes1.wordpress.com/2013/05/27/2152/

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6 comments

  1. This has been an amazing one to share the experience in writing, Latoya! Love it… Even though it’s Winter here in the southern end of the tropics, Summer is still not too different. (:

    1. WINTER WHERE YOU ARE! OMG, I FEEL BAD FOR YOU, ON THE FLIP SIDE I’M SURE IT’S A BEAUTIFUL SCENE WITH THE WHITE COVERING THE LAND. SEAN I LOVE WRITING WITH YOU IT IS ALWAYS A PLEASURE AND ALWAYS HAS SUCH A LOVELY FLOW. THANK YOU AGAIN (:

      1. No snow here in the tropics, no mountains in the northern half of Australia high enough. It’s 18*C which is 64*F, so not cold at all. Much further south for the snow, somewhere around a thousand miles. Love writing with you too, Latoya, the way our words, and lines mesh, love it… Thanks so much for being you (:

        During Summer (the wet season (the dry season now)) here a desert many miles south-west of where I live comes to life with wildflowers when the rains arrive. When I saw the image of the red cracked clay in your previous poem, it reminded me of the Simpson. Not my photo, but this is what it looks like…
        Simpson Desert Wildflowers

  2. Wonderfull word-weaving, I especially liked this part:”To hear the laughter on the old tin roof

    In the long pause

    To hear fresh again

    The giggle of the trees

    Birds playing hide and seek with the breeze”- I was there at this moment in my head.

    1. WORD-WEAVING INDEED! I LOVE IT (: I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR THIS GIFT OF WRITING NOT EVERYONE CAN BE SO IMAGISTICALLY EXPRESSIVE AS “WE” ARE. WORDPRESS HAS SOME FANTASTIC WRITERS. I ALWAYS WANTED TO SING BUT, I WONT COMPLAIN BECAUSE I LOVE WRITING (: THANKS FOR COMMENTING LOVE.

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