The Blessing of the Flowers

Rose's  head rises up to meet the dawn
Nodding sagely at the garden lawn.
Yellow and pink, red and mauve
She is the queen of her flowery abode.
Her garden is filled with antique stone -
Some might say it has gone wild, overgrown.
Once upon a time Rose was pruned and 
Dead-Headed, but now she dances wilder 
Trailing steps tripping time lighter with St Jerome. 
Beware her prick as her power grows!
She is beauty and protection
She is the rose!

Lavender stalks have a fragrant embrace,
Born from sweet tears sowed by infant grace.
Not for them the thorn of the rose:
Their bushy bed it softly grows and grows.
Sleepy eyes they do implore to hit the hay:
Her gently peace settles over children at play.
Eyes get heavy, and anxious hearts submit
To the mystery of Lavender's insistence to sit.
Restful minds open to nature's hum
And dream of olive trees upon Mount Zion
Lavender is rest and relaxation, 
Summer's sleep, the healing of the nations.

Hyacinth stops to raise her heavy head
Listing sideways in her watery homestead.
Her roots grow white and long underwater
She is H2O's sullen and lazy daughter. 
She wears coats of many pretty colors 
To attract the attention of Bee, her busy brother!
Upon her long stalks, rising up from the bulb
Her fragrant brush holds stories to be told.
In ancient hands her stalks were twisted
By artful souls whom the Ancients had gifted.
Inspiration opening third eyes blind
Hyacinth and Absinthe open poet's minds!

Jasmine with her sticky scent 
Lights up the fields of innocence
Harvest not more than you can sow
Jasmine falls under the gardener's tilling hoe.
Queen of the Night with all her charms
Does not care for sleep nor to keep a soul
Safe from the delights of drunken harm.
The scent of lust and debauchery
Drifts from her woody twisting branches
And settles in the grateful scentless trees.
Jasmine mines pleasure and gifts the night
She leads the nose to trouble - no need for sight!

Lilly is intoxicating, an exotic bloom
She sits cut from the ground inside my room.
I keep her prisoner as she fades away
Hoping more of her sisters will head my way. 
I have no mercy for Lilies earthly
White and pink she begs for mercy
Orange with spots she is less fragrant
But tiger striped she fills that which is vacant.
Lilies blue rise up to see the moon
Equally fit for a wedding or a tomb.
Don't bring me lilies when I'm dead
They won't let me sleep and I'll rise instead. 

Peony, peony come over here to me!
Your closed blossoms fail to betray your beauty.
Spheres of pink and brown curious cabbages
Are your shy and sullen only soil-bound carriage.
But when you get happy and open up
Your modest buds turn into nature's luck!
You open in frills and sweet delicate lace,
You own a gentle scented embrace. 
No one would ever guess your complex dance
Until you show your face, and thus soul's entrance
Modest Peony, Enchantress to me, don't be so sure
That you can't open heaven's door!

And now, for good measure the cactus treasure:
Fleeting blossoms on desert floors 
That leave you gasping and wanting more. 
Ring a ring around the thorny roses
With your spiteful hooks and violent poses.
Your arms are up and your glance is wild:
You are parched sandy reaches most beloved child. 
Beware feeding on the Dew of the Sand
It will open your eyes and move your hands.
The saints line up to lend their names
To cactus as she shaman and magickians trains. 
Cactus with your secrets many hold me close
And teach me from the flowers how to raise
A blossoming fruitful toast!

Here's to the Roses in the Gardens of the Dead
And here's to Lillies to lay upon their eternal beds!
Here's to Peony with her modest yet heavenly beauty.
And here's to Hyacinth in her vase forced to be lonely!
Here's to Lavender as she calms the bower,
And here's to Cactus and her eye opening flower!
Here's to Jasmine, though my night-walking days are over!
Here's to the summer and the blessing of the flowers!
May their benediction fall on you
And hold you through the cold seasons
When you long to see them but they are out of view. 
Bene Bene Benedicti 
The blessing of the flowers
Is pure and holy. 

One Comment

Leave a Reply