Photo by Mike Flemming 2015 copyright.Published with permission
She wanted to come up with a mnemonic
For remembering the form of a sonnet She cried AB twice CD CD,EF twice ‘fore G. For GH is the last couplet,innit? .
She wanted to write for the dummies
Whose speech veers from f*ck to cor l*mmy. Vernacular they call it to which we cry,no sh*t,twit My eyes, like my cup, are now r*nny.
Mirth seems to rise from my studies.
As the breath rises up from our bodies. Our breath mingles each day From your way to my airway. Our lungs, if not minds, are all buddies
Pure gold walls Den of Catastrophe Spirit of well Night layers Bliss in Golden rod Still, small, wise Eye of storm Hurry,Cain Ah, bell. Original din Apples cry Snake in bladder Prodigal sun Stormy heather Bless us ,oh Bard Fore given, fore warned
From the sun, low in the sky,
Light falls slantwise to my eyes. Trees bud, though invisibly, Nothing that our eyes can see.
Bulbs shoot up from dark cold soil
Where worms and beetles quietly toil. We take for granted air and sky, Love the birds we see fly by.
But who can love the worms and slugs
And those creatures we call bugs? So in our dark cold winter time, Praise these creatures in the grime.
Without these worms, our crops would die.
No cornfields here for us to lie, Amidst the poppies’ wild red blooms. So we forget all winter’s gloom .
Praise the snails and bees and ants
For these and spiders, let’s give thanks. As the lightness needs the dark, From darkness come life-giving sparks.
Enrich darkness with our gifts.
Look not always to the swift. Slow and patient like these worms, Nature’s lowness is my theme
The sky pleases Its unity comforts Our bits and pieces
Gathers us up
A rich mother Accepting hate Whatever
To the holly tree Where sparrows hide To look and see
To feed the birds Shining points The leaves preserved