Izy's Prompt

Over in the Garden, Izy prompted us to write a poem with the mechanics of farming. I tried to do some research, but finally ended up watching a You tube video.  This was truly a brilliant challenge. So here is my contribution to Izy's prompt!

 *  Copyrighted, Isadora Gruye Photography.

                                              A whirr of wings among the fields of gold
                                             Blackbirds caw and announce the Queen's arrival
                                                       tree toads sing in the background
                                                              Ruby Queen sits high on her throne
                                                                       let the games begin
                                                                                 Steel grinds like a stripper
                                                                                          turning the deck's
                                                                                            plated blades as the bullet rotor roars
                                                                                                a war of steel battles darkness and
                                                                                                        allusive Ruby Queen
                                                                                                        marauders arrive in
                                                                                                        a whirr of wings
                                                                                                       swooping down
                                                                                                        to find treasured gold
                                                                                              Star wars type equipment sweeps
                                                                                         making a dent in the mature flesh
                                                                                  mold and vermin enemies in this war
                                                                            boys with big toys battle Mother Nature's fury
                                                                          and hope to win this round
                                                                        in time for the summer's eve movie   

                   and some matinee gold~   

© Ellen Wilson     

Over in the Garden

Kerry asked us to write a poem in the first person, as the Unreliable Narrator.  I just read a  story that did just that. I had to write an essay on it.  So, this is my poem, at the end I will share the book.  I am also going to add this to Poets United prompt. I think it has the layering effect, like Encaustic Art does.

 

My husband thinks I'm a bundle of nerves

and brings me to this colonial home

 by the sea

lovely outside, beautiful gardens

inside ick 

a flamboyant pattern of contradiction

Sickly sulfur yellow that commits the sins of
of stripping one's mood
Merry Sunshine couldn't live here
he thinks I'm ungrateful
he says, "You need rest my dear"
He may be a Dr for others, but he doesn't get me
I tell him that I'm fine,
He thinks I need rest
shutting me in a room, with barred windows
no stimulation
I need friends, tea parties and
 time out in the garden
Am I a prisoner?

Hubby sees blush pink 

in my cheeks

weight gained

 and I'm rested.

I write when no one is looking-some
think it

is the writing that
strangles my nerves

 this god forsaken ugly room

 hideous, dreadful scent?

a yellow smell

by the light of a candle I see her

she is there, plain as day

she puzzles me

only appears in moon's light 

on the wall paper I see her bulbous eyes

she shakes the walls, the windows

She is creeping...

Hubby knocks "Darling let me in?"

"I'm tired dear, not now"... I smirk
No way, not till the paper is removed
I'm helping the creeping woman tear it down
soon
I'll 
have 
my
 baby 
back 
we'll 
creep 
together!

 The poem is based on the book, "The Yellow Wallpaper" ~Charlotte Perkins Gilman
It is based back in the 1890s when a woman after giving birth was told her nerves were bad and was taken away from the baby and put in a quiet room, to rest.  The main character narrates the book. It includes her descent into Postpartum Depression. 

Words Count

Over in the garden, Mama Zen challenged us with a prompt!  Mama Zen asked us to write about conflict, in our poem.  The big challenge must be in 30 words or under...yikes!!!  Now, that is a conflict, lol     I mean challenge ;D

 

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Snapdragon thoughts 

scatter like gold dust

 between 

Rose colored glasses

Lime green lizards slither

their briny tongues

among 

Sulfur Mums

bleeding into my

Blue Iris 

dreams

Over at Poets United ,I provided a SARK challenge for Wonder??? Wednesday...

Deep Amethyst in a Calamine sunset looks

for the hidden mirage

of 

First Blush 

hidden Coral Blossom 

opening it's spirit

in a mystic, translucent glow

Yellow Duchess starts to move

like a Bumble Bee finding

a Pale moonlight Daffodil

Remote Green Sea Nymph 

waiting for the ephemeral bloom

to marry the

 Bonnie Blue sea

Nymph releases her gift

an amulet of

 Rose Quartz hope

I wanted to do a colorful poem for SARK~  I have an addiction-to paint chips! I decided to use some of their names in my poem~

 

Wonder ??? Wednesday #2 Weird

For me this is more wonderful, than weird.  When I first drank tea in this cup and saw the Geisha looking back at me, it was kinda spooky!  I discovered this fine Bone China came from Japan, during WWII.  My Mother-in-law didn't care for the color or look of it and gave me 6 settings.  There was not a tea pot, to be found.  It was a set given to her by a great aunt. This china is from
the 1950's, it is called Hayasi Kutani.  You can also look it up by referencing Geisha Ghost.  The molded art is made, by very thin translucent porcelain also known as Lithophane.  This process can create a 3-D image.  YOU can see the image when light n' shadows are in play, when you tilt your cup of tea.   You can also set the cup in a sunny window and view it at different times during the day.  Sunlight alters the image and the Geisha Ghost will appear.

It is believed this process was first developed in China.  In the 1930's, the Japanese started producing Lithophane on sake 'n tea cups.   During WWII many sailors and soldiers were buying pieces to bring back home, during 1945-1952.  This art form stopped production. sometime in the 1950's.

Over at Poets United I provided this prompt-so many directions to go in tea, Geisha, ghost, WWII,  and our memories.   Tea memories started for me with my Nannie Nonnie, at the age of 10, she decided I need a lesson in tea.  I think it was more of an excuse to check to see if her  daughter in law was giving me the proper guidance, in my manners.  Anyway I made Mom proud,  pinkies up and no slurping.  lol

Journey of steeped memories

wake me

 echoes from my past

arrive in one sip

tiny leaves in a ball 

placed in black tea pot with a peony

graced her table

small servings of refreshment

a test of my skills

Clouded memories arrive and the mist

affects my eyes

like a sparrow's tongue

I'm am encouraged to taste

the bitter brew

Nannie's sweet dew

nectar of the mountains

Nature's offerings captured in a moment

one can travel the world

 in a cup of tea

cultivate your dreams

earth's notes swirl

memories plucked like ripe fruit

arrive all in the celebration

ceremony of

tea

the character of full body or fruit

its boldness reminds me

of ghosts, from my past

they linger like musical notes

and

play a faded tune

I do not see the Geisha

I see my

Grandmother

reminding me

to be a lady

to be the best me

all instilled

in a cup of

 tea

 I took this photo with a hint of tea.  I wanted you to see the Geisha, the ghost!  

 

Wonder??? Wednesday

I thought it would be fun to start off the new prompt at Poets United in a zany direction. Who better than Dr. Seuss to take us there.  He was the man that so many of us enjoyed in our youth, read to our children, and  some are now enjoying with their grandchildren.

Here is my silly adaptation.  I chose to write a tribute type poem to Dr. Seuss.  I must say "Wacky Wednesday" did invade my life.  Once I discovered the book and read it with my daughter, life changed.  We celebrated "Wacky Wednesday" with dinner for breakfast and breakfast for dinner.  Once in a Blue Moon I would let my children eat dessert first.  I know wacky, right!  I did make sure it was something with some protein in it, like Peanut Butter Chocolate pudding!   I hope in honor of Dr. Seuss, you too will embrace Wednesday and do something wacky! 

Dr. Seuss

you silly goose

you set my mind a whirling

like oysters do, I too began a pearling

You made reading fun, when I was young

your rhyming gave me a twisted tongue

I learned to love the abuse

oh, Dr. Seuss you silly goose

Children came and you again entered my brain

allowing me to dance down memory lane

my thoughts scrambled like green eggs n' ham

 I need to live like a clam

or maybe like Horton hears a Who

then I think of red and blue and things one n' two

the Grinch reminds me of Cindy Lou

Then Wacky Wednesday had that silly shoe

How do you do it..get in my head

 you nested in my capillary bed

If I ran the Zoo

Horton would not have heard the who

The Cat in the hat

would have found a bat

inside his chapeau

How would we grow?

Would I have Hopped on Pop

What would I talk about at the bus stop?

Sneetches would their bellies have stars

Would a  green dog in a yellow tree have cars?

 

Oh, Dr. Seuss

You silly goose

would a fox wear socks

would Knox find a box

would my tongue be in knots

Thanks Dr. Seuss for all the crazy thoughts!!!

Thanks for tying my tongue in a bow

Thanks for letting me grow

Thank you, Thank you

 Dr. Seuss

for being zany like a goose

for giving me an excuse

n' setting my imagination on the loose***