My National Poetry Month challenge to myself has become a collaboration between synaesthetic artist Sammy-John, myself, Anjum Wasim Dar and Jay Gandhi: Day Eight: Wildflowers

Wildflowers

Wildflowers

in the garden
shake at the sight of themselves
in Alice’s looking glass.

Pink are drained to white.
Pale flowers colour up.

The garden path tells
her to stay still
and she’ll have adventures.

She lets her feet lead her
up or down the garden path
but arrives where she started.

Alice can’t stay still.
She has to move but in moving
always returns to what
she already knows.

I want to have adventures
But nobody’ll let me. she complains.

Looks directly at a Rose
And advises it: Your petals
are a disgrace. They need
To lean in one direction,
not all directions.

By Paul Brookes

Native & dense roses
make colours radiant and
pink turns sky candid.
Happiness inside light;
Everyone is free—
~Wild Flowers~
Free is everyone;
Light inside Happiness.
candid sky turns pink and
radiant colours make
roses dense & native.

By Jay Gandhi

Beyond the beauty, revealed,
quest of finding more persists,
on green and brown sky on land
tiny yellow blue and white, exists

I have found flowers, flowers wild
dancing, waving, studded in green
visible in the weeds, I hear the velvet
tripping of the footsteps of Spring-

Summer pheasants’ eyes shine-
agave branches out to meet Alder
or trumpets  at ‘baby blue eyes’, or
the Barren Strawberry white roses’

Wild flowers touch me like poetry
swaying to soundless sacred sweet
symphonies side to side in obeisance
to invisible conducting companies,
Offering soft cool overtures to
burning soles of injured souls,
enriching meadows to the core,
offering ample colorful cures,
wild flowers in deserted desert
dunes, dream to possess, as King
Ozymandias waits in stony silence,
slithering snakes undulating weave
their colors in the sand, dreading
the deadly Peregrine, embroidered,
jaded, studded, laid for romances,
wondrous world of plant fragrances,

wave upon wave of variegated crowns,
at times, in remote treks, God’s prosody
wild flowers grow, the sight so asking for
journeys, ventures and a supreme odyssey’


2019 © CER    Anjum  Wasim Dar

One thought on “My National Poetry Month challenge to myself has become a collaboration between synaesthetic artist Sammy-John, myself, Anjum Wasim Dar and Jay Gandhi: Day Eight: Wildflowers

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