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October 13, 2016

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Photography, Poetry

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Clover Lit

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Queen Anne’s Lace is
backlit by clover,
like raspberry planets
around a central star.
My daughter picked
wildflowers for a nosegay,
held out to me on a mountainside
where every angle
lay slant, and the light
fell in patches
sewn by oak trees.
Each flower is a dream
she dreams for me —
to have beautiful things
always
and remember her.
Who I could never forget.
Her dreams can never wilt
or yellow
or fade
but instead they bloom always
in wildflower explosions
translating into color
summer’s
tart fragrance
and the start-stop,
start-stop,
spicy music of
songbirds.

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Notes: Have you been given a nosegay, a small bouquet of sweetly-scented flowers? My daughter gathered this one on Mount Okemo in Vermont. She had a wonderful time, and I will always memory. But not a single flower survived. The word nosegay reminds me of my grandmother, who I remember presenting with wildflowers when I was a tiny tot.

Thanks to Irene Latham of Live Your Poem for hosting Poetry Friday this week! Stop by for a rainfall of lovely words.

Poetry Friday with kids

48 thoughts on “Clover Lit”

  5. How lovely, Brenda. So much to appreciate in this poem, like: “where every angle/lay slant, and the light/fell in patches/sewn by oak trees” and “the spicy music of songbirds.” Those are the best sorts of spontaneous gifts, I think. I remember being presented with a few “bouquets,” myself…. usually fallen frangipani blossoms that we passed on our way to and from school each morning. Sometimes dandelions, buttercups, or some other volunteer flower with stems picked too short to save them in water. Your daughter looks like a beautiful flower herself in that photo, pink and cheery.

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  13. Sweetest memory & picture, Brenda. I help my granddaughters pick flowers in the garden to take to their mother, & I remember past ‘nosegays’ too. I love “the light/fell in patches/sewn by oak trees.” It’s a perfect image.

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