Between brushwood & yellowed walls, she tends
wild daisies peeking with eyes like hers, old.
A mulberry tree stands guard. She pretends
spring is soft as she pulls out weeds so cold.
Grey clouds saunter above crisscrossed railings
Where this garden hides, a man ascetic
watercolors artlessly 'til ailings
turned his canvas madly poetic.
Her knees dig for moist in dry soil, here lies
seeds, wrinkled & wind-shaken. Her unclean
fingers gather mulched brown leaves under skies
piling layers, an altar. Her heart mean
as whiskey is now crystal. Blue instead
of red, she buries it 'neath thorny bed.
Artist: Vandy Massey
Posted for: Poets United ~ Mid-week Motif- Hearts~ Thanks for the visits ~
love the way nature flows in it.............
ReplyDeleteThank you Vandana ~
Deleteouch, just as i thought it was turning to hope...being cultivated in putting her hands in the dirt and finding life...she is burying her sad heart....oy...emotive...
ReplyDeletewell played sonnet grace.
Thank you Brian ~
Deleteooh, Grace, I wish you would do rhymes more often, I do love it so when you do that!
ReplyDeleteI have to use the rhyming dictionary a lot for the words ~ Thanks Dezzy ~
ReplyDeleteOwWOOO. Spring is not soft; there is no sun; death is not kind; and altars in tear-less hiding can be tombs over chipped and hardened hearts. I am transported by every element, hoping that in the blue garden the heart root can sprout again. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThank you for the lovely challenge Susan ~
DeleteYou really took this sonnet in an interesting direction, Grace. You have made the scene come alive.
ReplyDeleteThank you Mary ~
DeleteVery carefully written, with such patience, the image came alive, the sonnet form I will try soon maybe... ~ Happy Valentine's Day, Grace!
ReplyDeleteThank you humbird ~ Happy hearts day to you too ~
DeleteLook at you go with the flow and putting heart below has to be rough indeed
ReplyDeleteYours is a unique perspective on the prompt. I really like the variety of shades, hues, colors.
ReplyDeleteI love how this swings between soft and harsh..echoing the painting..very visual and emotive
ReplyDeleteso much pain in the closing couplet....
ReplyDeletestrong emotion Grace. This digs down to the pain that can be wrought in a willing heart.
ReplyDeleteA sad tale, well told. I like where you took this prompt.
ReplyDeleteO the blue heart is so sad, but the old eyes and the dirty fingers seeking fertile earth makes that sadness all the more poignant. Wow!
ReplyDeleteThis is very powerful and so full of desire and passion. A forlorn chalice of love. Powerful poem.
ReplyDeleteSuch juxtaposition
ReplyDeleteMaybe with a little care her heart could grow new and red.
ReplyDeleteThose last couple of lines are just fantastic. Powerful piece.
ReplyDeleteyou lead us through a series of visuals with your words... letting the reader create...so well done Grace...
ReplyDeletepoor baby....blue hearts are nice too...i think she should unbury it and wear it on her sleeve
ReplyDeleteReally lovely--blue instead of red--there is a quiet sense of power in this piece--
ReplyDeleteBeautiful composition, Grace. You poured out deluge from your heart...so well done :)
ReplyDeleteVery beautiful, Grace, and somewhat unexpected. I had thought to find something steamy, but you chose to treat the theme with delicacy and depth. :)
ReplyDeleteLOVE... especially the ending.
ReplyDeletehmmmm there is nothing so pure as a sonnet that sings of love.... heck, any kind of love.... and as a gardener who so loves the soil... love it even more...
ReplyDeletea heart buried beneath thorns is a shackled heart, indeed ~
ReplyDelete