Being housebound has its benefits. I cleaned the carpets and read three books in the past two weeks. I have cooked (and eaten) more than ever before.
Today I fiddled with poems. What do you think? Do you have a preference, a particular style? Next week we are expecting temperatures around 80 degrees. I will be sitting in the sun, not under an apple tree!
Splash the barren earth with daffodils,
golden forsythia o'er the hills.
tint azalea blossoms raspberry bright.
daub dainty smiles that glow for weeks.
Paint spring on every branch, and blade.
Housebound Locked Down
In a crook of the rippled lake
by algae propagating
in sunshine golden as the finch
that flew its nest, confused
by the absence of visitors
missing out on nature's best.
The newly arrived immigrant
planted a dozen apple trees alright
there on his small front lawn,
and painted the trunks stark white.
Flowering orchard, twelve towering trees,
uniformed sailors taking orders from the breeze.
Blossoms drifting, swirling, floating down
from the best-dressed apple trees in town.
Who am I to say a spread of sweet Williams
or daffodils would be more apropos?
This man from "over there" probably doesn't know,
a hedge of roses in all their glory would certainly delight.
But who am I to say HIS front yard is wrong
and everyone else is right?
Neighbors mow their grass and whack away their weeds.
While we all manicure our lawns, he tends his apple trees.
This orchard is a few blocks from our home on a main street.
One year we were taking a drive and came upon an entire front lawn of pink flowers,
thousands of them.
What is the darndest thing you've seen on a front lawn?