Image by Lariko
Labeled for non-commercial reuse.
Scotch Broom Shrub
In spring, scotch broom yields mille fois yellow blooms.
Breezes caress our trees, leaves swirl and dip.
A heady scent fills the air, sweet perfumes
tempt, beguile, offer memories: your lips
on mine. But you speak only of friendship.
The winds pick up. You shield your face from mine,
hold fast your hat and turn away—a sign
that love is fragile? Hawk flies in place, flails
against late winter storms. Clouds block sunshine.
(I long to yield my being to the gale.)
I was unable to participate in the earlier form challenges at dVerse, so tonight, for Open Link Night, I am attempting a Dizain…not an especially easy form. This is a first draft.
Image via Wikipedia
Were you to draw this life in black and white,
the lines would then be hard and not forgive—
no subtle shades to ease the journey’s plight.
With color’s tones and even tones of gray
the world assumes her nuances of grace—
the lights and shadows of our every day.
So you surrender paint and page and hand
unto the artful muse who lurks inside,
allowing her to guide your thought and pen.
You smear the brightest orange with yellow
taste the sweet scent of the fair Scotch Broom
and forge in black the loamy earth below.
Now play with texture to confuse one’s sense
and add perspective, draw the viewer in.
Create illusion to obscure pretense.
You will take risks when you engage in art,
allow your soul to bleed on canvas bare.
Be sure you understand this ere you start.
Submitted to Jingle’s Poetry Potluck where the theme for this week is ART! http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com