Poe as a Gardener
One singular daffodilly did,
Poke up its little yellow head
In the second month of the year,
And though the clime was drear, crisped, withered and sear,
The little dear brought some cheer to my demeanor.
In the parlor of the manor, in this very haunted house,
Daffodilly hunted by the music of the spheres
Vivacious, and insatiable.
A variable torrent of art, or perhaps a typhoon!!
The songs come rolling off the tongue,
Sweet as silver in my goblet of blood red wine,
Like the columbine I hope to plant,
The salvia and carnations that I jealousy covet for my own.
Every spring, a single yellow dawning,
Peeks up its little nightcap and springs for the skies,
A wellspring of sunlight and hope,
A promise of an end to the onslaught of winter
A promise of an end to drizzling damp
A promise of miracles in the swooning month of June.
Oh, sweet sunlight, thou cannot bloom fast enough,
For my heart, perplexed by lack of peonies,
Abashed at love for peaches,
Beset by a need for roses
Desire most dire....
I have a petunia named desire ...
Oh, most fell demon Mrs. Greenthumbs.
How thou hast filled my head with barbarous bamboo shoots,
Garden vikings plucking at the heartstrings of my head,
Could I but summon spring, at the pounding of a drum,
I would bang out a tune so reckless as to wake the hands of death himself!!!
But alas, I cannot draw back the curtain of cold.
I have always been too hasty in my demands, and too fervent in my longing.
Impatiens a favorite flower...a summer bloom
But were I to ask any favors of God....
I would pray,
A golden host of daffodils to rain down from the heavens like a flood.
Little ones, I have a great need of you,
All of you.
My beloved golden flower,
The flower of this hour
Essie Lee is a poet, artist, musician, and student of massage therapy. She is whiling away the time sewing costumes, gardening, and learning the accordion and electric guitar.