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In the Fallow Field
Folder:
Love
How many sweet and savage summers
lie buried here,
their weedy bones telling the story
with a wavering, pale gold voice
like chimes across a canyon
or a sprinkle of glitter falling,
falling like false hope
through the brambles
where the arms that cradled berries
cage the mist.
Was this where I learned the
religion of zealous mints,
redeemed the unconverted garlic,
ravaged the chamomile with
geisha's skin and the conjurer's
craft?
Is this the same world I trusted my
soul to,
this fallen Olympus
fading to white
like justice and mercy,
gestating slow, sleeping late?
Oh for July's golden armor,
green lust, inspired crystal.
My love, come and touch this
field with fire,
ignite one more season, this speck
set like a gem upon infinity:
so much vastness I never knew
and so much more containing
my endless spirit, and my endless love.
Now winters live like embers on
death's dust.
It was always you shining there
like the crocus,
like the gold that blooms in snow.
Patricia Joan Jones
As winter sets in again, this
As winter sets in again, this 2022, an opportune time to meditate and imbibe from a poem such as this. And it speaks with an eloquence that is familiar to your poetic voice as it is to the heart that seeks. First to be invited to peruse the burial ground of both sweet and savage seasons past. And that image of mints which seem to be a constant companion of aging together with throat lozanges, chaptstick, and a handy bottle of lemon water. Last winter we had our first successful planting of crocuses and though they bloomed rather shyly at first there is hope that they will bloom again with renewed vigour when their time has come. Thanks for having kept this poem posted for 2 decades running.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver
I'm always left humbled and
I'm always left humbled and breathless by your comments that hit the mark with stunning precision and beauty. Thank you so much for reading and understanding the nuances of this poem that was an anniversary gift a lifetime (or so it seems) ago.
My deepest gratitude, fine Poet.
Nice Phrasing
Read aloud, there is music."...winters live like embers on/death's dust." This write is truly "...a gem upon infinity." ~S~
Thank you so much! I'm always
Thank you so much! I'm always honored when you show up and leave such brilliant comments.
please tell me how you feel about my
posting your poetry unedited
including the copyright symbol
and the link on other sites
i have a desire to share its beauty
with others