"Bluebells," "Skunking at Mosquito Creek," "You are Me"

"Bluebells," "Skunking at Mosquito Creek," "You are Me" - student project

My Flower Poem

Inspired by Wordsworth’s “Daffodils” and my favourite childhood flower

 

Bluebells

Blue is the colour of the glade

Beneath the dappling branches

Vivid is the carpet

Where the bluebell dances

Your bells like cups of crystal fancy

A hat for a sprite or skirt for a fairy

The bluebells ring beneath my feet

Where the forest and meadow meet,

And sun meets shade in happy hue

A carpet spread of bluebell blue

In simple times when as a child,

I raised your bells to my nose and smiled

At the powdered scent of spring

But then I learned that you’re a being

Of the forest, not the table,

For in my hand your beauty faded,

Cut off from the Earth and Sun,

Each bell drooped her weary face

I could not possess you as my own,

For you are of the Bluebell race.

 

My Activity Poem

Inspired by “Blackberrying,” by Sylvia Plath

 

Skunking at Mosquito Creek

Over gnarled roots

we stumbled,

among Jurassic ferns lit

by ancient light,

along the trail

running parallel

to the old ladies

walking their poodles

on a gravel path

by the creek.

Hidden in the leaves,

we stopped to

ignite, inhale with relish

our wicked ways,

burn away our innocence,

blow away memories of

the yellow rainslickers and gumboots

we traded for leather jackets

and the beaded moccasins

we pressed into the cool

leaves of skunk cabbage,  

releasing their stench

to hide our smoke signals….

Heads whirling

we watched the ladies

flare their nostrils and frown,

our snickers drowned

by the river’s clatter

over rocks—

the river clatters still

in one unbroken line of time—

but the trail is gone,

and the old ladies

on the gravel path

are now us

and our wild memories

of delicious, spoiled innocence.

 

My Character Poem

Inspired by “She Walks in Beauty,” by Byron

 

You Are Me

 

You are the Me that is not Me

from the Other Side,

You the South and I the North—

Together We collide.

 

Our Worlds so different,

Sun and Moon

and yet We are the same

you the Earth and I the Sky,

our bodies joined by Rain.

 

Your Crescent Moon

And I my Cross,

Your Curls and my long Hair

How are We compatible,

Your Soil and my Air?

 

Yin contains a pool of Yang

and Yang embraces Yin,

Together we are Flames that fit

holding Each within.

 

Journalist and beginner painter