Sweet peas through my window climb,
Descended from the vines of time.
Growing wild, in the mountains of Sicily,
Reaching out, with tendrils, so sisterly.
I watch the green shoots, stretch out and grow, a
Vision of my sister and her love doth flow.
Climbing those hills, where sweet peas wind,
Their fragrant embrace around two hearts entwined.
I wish those two hearts could come here and stay,
Linger, a while, in my garden, and play.
Those self-pollinating flowers amaze,
Every day there are new colours to gaze.
I look at those petals with a passion,
Knowing I am a little old fashioned.
I think of them, hand in hand, carefully
Climbing over Sicilian land.
One day our paths will meet, like a sweet embrace,
Just like those tendrils bring petals face to face.
My sister, her love – the climber, and my
Family of five.
Sarah Lee, © 2011
This poem was written with my sister and her boyfriend in mind. I haven’t seen them for three and a half years. I don’t know when we’ll meet again. But they have recently been climbing in the mountains of Sicily. When I looked up the origin of sweet peas, for my poem this week, it was with happy coincidence that I discovered them to have originated from Sicily. So whilst I gazed at the beautiful petals, climbing on the tendrils out of my kitchen window, my thoughts were far away in Sicily with my sister and her love.
Another coincidence, which I didn’t realise till after I’d written the poem and put the photograph of the painting up with it, is I painted 7 flowers, one for each of us x
Out the window I gazed,
And saw a yellow lilly.
It caught me by surprise.
Yellow sprouts of pollen,
Zoomed into the air, like
A fantail, fluttering in the clouds.
The golden leaves curled
Around and around,
Like a merry-go-round.
Then at the end it dried,
Like an Autumn leaf, fading,
Into thin air.
Every flower is so beautiful, that you
Would like to smell it, and touch it,
To pick it, and place it in a vase.
To sketch it and paint it,
I just wish the flowers could
Grow inside, really fast.
The sweet peas smell so nice,
That we like to make hand sanitizer from them.
Plant a little bulb
Plant a little bulb in the ground
It will grow with out a sound
Shoots grow up and roots grow down
Sun and rain will do the rest
A flower will bloom and look its best !
Now it’s your turn! Link up below with your ‘Flower‘ prose for this week’s ‘Lyrical Sunday‘. The linky will remain open for one week, so don’t worry if you haven’t written anything yet – there’s still time 🙂
Visit the blogs below for more ‘Flower’ poems: