White Poinsettia

Aztecs surely knew
what glory they might
bring to hopeful eyes,
cultivating the brilliant

flor de Nochebuena,
delicate broad plant
mostly seen in season
of Christ’s Celebration,

wide green leaves with
snowy bracts fluttering,
gracefully curving to points,
so like wings of angels.

Angels’ Wings – Watercolor by Marilyn Peretti

 

 

 

 

 

Once Again

Not yet March
and the bright pink trumpets
are playing again!

They’ve come to impress me
and even though they bend
and droop

I hear high pitched tones
from the Christmas cactus,
tooting and roaring

a goodbye
to winter.

Fragrance

sweet tart orange—
tinges of this taste
embed a fragrance

the old mock orange
vines over a fence
in gentle greeting

 

At old house in Lombard, IL

Because

Because of what happened
this garden is my refuge,
this silence amongst purple coleus
trailing inquisitive vinca vines.

I hear not one opinion
uttered from the plants,
just their perky faces toward morning light,
their spines straight with innocence
and disregard for my life,

or possibly standing tall
to demonstrate graceful endurance.
Only their lives matter—being God’s
earthly ambassadors, holding
no one accountable for silliness.

Even the overgrown fern
showers delight from its crowded
nest of green fronds,
drooping, bowing to reality.

Time, I say.
Time they tell me is needed
for strides of growth. Time and rain—
rain from dark clouds pouring
into patient soil, rearing
the pointed caladium leaves of fiery red
and starlight of white impatiens’ flowers.

My Patio in August