Your green lions’ teeth—
devour neighboring sprouts.
Day by day we watch
your shafts erect until
phallus buds unfurl—
yellow fronds explode.
Honeybees jockey and feast
for pollen buffets. Pick a bouquet
for Madeline, squealing in delight
as she studies one in her tiny hand.
Braid her a princess crown
and she leads her unicorn
over the golden-flecked lawn.
Soon flowers shrink into green cocoons.
Before long, their green tubes bud—
tufts of white feathers peek out,
ignite, white frozen fireworks
yearning for the first breeze burst.
Blow one for Madeline—wide-eyed—
she puffs hers and they float the way
pixies promenade in her dreams.
“Look!” she points. Across the lawn
another one summons and
she saunters towards it.
Poem by Peter Venable
Like you, nature remains new, fresh, and always inspiring. This spring I see it though one-year old-toddler Madeline’s eyes. When the muse plays, back to the laptop again. Visit me at petervenable.com