My irises announce new Spring:
sweet blooms, first in my tiny garden,
their vivid blue singing aloud
a glorious hymn to life.
Not mere fol-de-lol frippery
like sillier, frillier flowers,
they seem broad and strong –
though they are tender and too soon gone,
the brief delight glaring and fading
like sudden fireworks, or a trumpet note
bursting upon the air ... yet leaving
that bright memory fully imprinted.
Written (on Spring Equinox) for Friday Writings #246: Light-hearted words for Spring, at Poets and Storytellers United. Word list (use one, some or all): fol-de-lol, frippery, tender, delight, singing, sweet, new. (Yes, you may correct the first to fol-de-rol if you prefer.)
The blue is so striking...and the trumpet analogy is perefect!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you.
Delete"Not mere fol-de-lol frippery like sillier, frillier flowers," works perfectly. Nicely written Rosemary 👏
ReplyDeleteThanks; I had fun.
DeleteI love your poem about Iris, the harbinger of good times—a beautiful celebration of change, renewal, and the spring of life.
ReplyDeleteThank you. I can clearly see why this beautiful flower is symbolic of such things.
DeleteOh yes, I fully agree. My irises are out now too.
ReplyDelete*Smile.*
DeleteBeautiful! I particularly love the use of synesthesia here!
ReplyDeleteThank you for noticing!
DeleteA wonderful fanfare of celebration for joy in the present and the world around you (Is that synesthesia?) I'm glad they touched your being - Jae
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jae. Synesthesia is experiencing something sensual via a different sense (or senses) from the usual one, e.g. the sight of the irises experienced like the sound of a trumpet.
DeleteIris in my poem is blooming too... fireworks at play and all spring like as well...Beautiful flowers
ReplyDeleteThey are indeed.
DeleteBeauty can be strength too
ReplyDeleteSo it can, indeed.
DeleteOh yes!
DeleteAn fitting ode to Iris. We have a long wait now for our springs.
ReplyDeleteYes, even though their stems are strong the iris bloom is fleeting like much of life that arrives like a quick trumpet blast in Spring.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeletethey seem broad and strong –
though they are tender and too soon gone
Invariably that's the paradox strong but fast disappearing. Lovely poem Rosemary, love it!
Hank
Thanks, Hank. Yes, they're a lesson in enjoying what is there because it may be soon gone.
DeleteA delightful poem, Rosemary! The Iris was my Mother's favorite flower.
ReplyDelete"Not mere fol-de-lol frippery like sillier, frillier flowers" is my favorite line. It's a tongue-twister! 😁
Thanks, Helen. I did have fun writing that line!
DeleteThis poem is a delight Rosemary. In spite of their brief stay the irises have brilliantly done their job, indeed. A wonderful capture.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sumana. Yes, their effect lingers!
DeleteLovely expression.
ReplyDeleteI am always grateful to God for the memories.
No one can steal them from us.
Oh yes, Anita. Me too!
Delete