In open field
Bulbs bloom, come Crocus
Nexus, Viola, Trillium
Look to the bow and lyre
How opposing forces agree
Moon Poppies backdrop
A carpet of Columbine
Symphytum spoon spread
Red in bed of pink then cream
Variegate color and bass
Ah, the blues, the blues.
The most beautiful order is still
A random collection
Of things insignificant in themselves:
Cranberry rosettes and candied
Violets, frosted thumb plumbs
Sweating midday, and gingerbread
Shaped in stars and bells.
A buck, doe and fawn dunk
Apples down near the pound where
Blue heron stalks rainbows
That dart while light recedes.
Under feather comforters and tea rose vaults,
We sleep smelling of last night's
Spices. Outside, trees shed quilted leaves.
FOR THE SATURDAY EVENING GIRLS' POTTERY CLUB
Please, oh please, spread something sweet
Over my shredded wheat
That rests upon this yellow plate,
Fired in its biscuit state.
Mystic swastika hands abound,
Fortune, luck, well-being found
And bowls with bands of ducks
And trees, ring around the ABCs.
Hand-thrown pots incised in ink
Still-soft clay initials sink.
Please, today, come sip some tea
With small designs, each cup's jolie,
The harmony lies not in line
But deeper in the object's rhyme.