Joe Pye Weed Along Stream
Bee the Morning
After a night’s rain
wind sweeps the sky
clean of sullen clouds.
Through the morning window
one sees the bees fly
to the balcony blossoms.
They exuberantly explore them,
hopeful to win sweet nectar
which will provide the necessary
nourishment to sustain them
through long and barren winter days.
Lainie Senechal
August Bouquet
Mid -August
The coming storm,
trumpeting like an elephant,
will sweep away
heat and humidity,
water thirsty plants,
and make room for
more pleasant days.
The cicada, summer’s bug,
will hum in the trees
and Black-eyed Susans
will decorate the hills.
Lainie Senechal
Paper White Narcissus
Imbolc
February first, a great spring festival
for the Celts, who waited
through a tired winter
to face the fresh air
of a new season
and sweep out winter’s lint.
Bellies now full with
milk from sheep’s freshening,
after their lambs were born.
A time to look forward
to the plowing of fields
and first planting of seeds.
Lainie Senechal
Dahlias in a Green Vase
Near Summer’s End
Morning mist leaves the meadow,
as the rising sun creates
rainbow arcs in the fog.
A humid day concludes
in storms which sprinkle
the dry earth – a gift
from the clouds above.
At night, cooler air
reminds us that summer’s
end is nearly in sight.
Lainie Senechal
Pink Azaleas
Fretful Spring
Blue skies are absent –
continual rain and gloom
shuffles spring season,
encourages wayward weeds.
Pewter lake lies languid and still
but perky goldfinches,
with white wing bars
like taut guitar strings,
perch on feeder and voice
their “potato-chip” objections
with each disturbance.
Below, forsythia blossoms mirror
birds’ bright yellow breasts.
Lainie Senechal
Pansies
Spring Breezes
Again, with warming breezes
daffodil blossoms pop open.
Their yellow trumpets shake
in strong spring winds.
Weather is quite fretful,
a frustrating tease.
Soon all will settle
with time to spend
soaking in season’s sun.
Lainie Senechal
Yellow Tulips
Wild March Winds
The wild March winds
slam feeder against the staff.
Squirrels scuffle below
to savor falling seeds.
In a moment of melancholy
one remember springs, now past –
whose times are missed.
A break in the weather,
return of sun’s warmth,
brings a smile as one steps
into the new season.
Lainie Senechal
Amaryllis
Mid-February
The winds are cold –
near the fire
one feels warm.
Each night, twilight
settles more slowly.
Our thoughts turn
to the next season.
We search seed catalogs
for a summer treasure.
Winter winds may howl
with heavy storms,
but they no longer have
a hold on our hearts.
Lainie Senechal
August Bouquet
Summer Moves On (an ovillejo)
Black-eyed Susan puts on a show,
summers go –
cicadas sing season’s song,
time moves on.
Corn grows sturdy and so tall,
soon comes fall.
Languid days that to us call,
August hours that give great joy,
but these moments are quite coy –
summers go, time moves on, soon comes fall.
Lainie Senechal
The ovillejo, which means ” tight little ball of twine”, is an old Spanish poetry form. I learned the form from Rhina Espaillat.
Anemones
Mid-Winter Reverie
In mid-winter, bitter cold
passes into warmth –
wind whispers Southern stories.
A bit of yellow brightens
goldfinches’ gray feathers.
Long nights dwindle
into early rising dawns,
seemingly, a hint of change.
Our hopes, with this small melt,
soar into thoughts of spring.
Lainie Senechal