The Pokeweed
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Birds denude
Dark purple fruit for food
Around here they call it inkberry
*
Derided by many as unnecessary
Removal from the landscape is customary
Diligent birds replant it by seed
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Can be messy indeed
The Pokeweed
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Daucus carota
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What is the spot in the middle
Of the delicate Queen Anne’s Lace?
Surrounded by snowy white blooms
It certainly seems out of place.
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They say Queen Anne was making lace
And tatting the designs by hand
When the needle caught her finger
A stain on the lace did expand
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Now the flowers cover the land
Thriving in forgotten places
Far from what people call nature
Despite the life in these spaces
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From afar all you see is white
Flowers waving across the field
It’s not until you get up close
That the colorful is revealed
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(A Redondilla Poem)
(A Serventesio Poem)
Dipsacus fullonum
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With a purple tutu
Covering those sharp spines
Simultaneously
Attracting, repelling
Roadside weed, food for bees
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Glistens with summer dew
Used to comb wool so fine
Grows spontaneously
Endlessly compelling
Now here from overseas
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Armored dangerously
Growing and excelling
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First Day of Summer
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Under an umbrella of sunshine, white clover flowers rise above their own heart-shaped foliage amidst a green mat of linear leaves. They shudder in the warm gentle breeze, stopping only momentarily before vibrating again.
Bees visit flowers
Buzzing to bring life before
Mower buzzes through
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(A Haibun Poem)
Don’t Judge
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Is that purple violet a weed?
No, Indeed!
*
Is the dandelion a pest?
Surely you jest!
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What do I see in these beauties?
Precious cuties!
*
Let’s stop being so plant snooty
Stop judging every small flower
Without knowing its great power
No indeed, surely you jest! Precious cuties!
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(An Ovillejo Poem)
A Picture and a Poem 