the fragrance
awakened, entrancingly,
a dreamy meander through
gardenias . . . no:
roses . . .
or, perhaps, it was
a heavenly field of
wild flowers for
– ever so softly – I was
whisked away, out of
that ordinary moment
to the edge of a page
in a romantic storybook
on clouds of fluffy white
angelic . . . . . . . . .
I turned and, there they were:
peonies – celestial peonies –
come to earth …
where, if they are cared for,
they put down deep roots
and live a hundred years
. . . or more
notes: posted for
Poets United.
Peonies, with their lush, full, rounded
bloom, exude romance and are regarded as an omen of good fortune and a happy
marriage. Their fragrance, depending on
the variety, varies.
photo:
Pink Peonies – W. Bourke
© 2015 Wendy Bourke
Ha. The peonies are beautiful and can def add a romanic element. I was tending the roses today. An invasive tree had tangled up in them and I have to extricate it before it detroyed the trellis.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your poem about peonies. An aunt of mine used to have a peony bush, and sometimes we took some flowers home with us to make a bouquet...but, alas, too many ants. I guess beauty always has a kind of downside. I had not realized they live 100 years or ore. Perhaps this busy I knew as a child is still blooming. Sigh. I wish I could remember my aunt's long ago address!
ReplyDeleteThat peony bush may very well still be there, Mary. Apparently, many peonies planted in the West by early pioneers are still going strong. That is actually what drew me to the idea of a "peony poem". I was blown away (and then captivated) when I first read about their their life span - as well as their association with romantic sensibilities and gracious living (sigh ... social conventions from another time - or so it often seems.)
DeleteWendy it seems we are thinking about similar things...and the scent of peonies is addictive and intoxicating....wonderful poem!
ReplyDeleteI certainly learned something here! A beautiful poem, and a beautiful flower.
ReplyDeleteThis is lovely and I would love to be taken to the edge of the page on clouds of puffy white..so dreamy and romantic..
ReplyDeleteI love peonies but the love has never been responded as they die on me. I know how they, once settled can live for 100s of years. The flowers are selectively in their bloom.
ReplyDeleteI adore peonies, their scent is heavenly. I also smelled a huge tree-like bush with white blooms the other day called orange blossom.......wow, what a fantastic smell. I enjoyed your poem, my friend.
ReplyDeletethis poem is a fabulous celebration of the gifts that Mother Nature bestows upon us...
ReplyDeleteThe beauty of nature in its full glory:)
ReplyDeletePeonies - i am trying to remember it scent. The longer you look at the the peonies, the more the become beautiful. A songlike poem for the peonies
ReplyDeleteBeing whisked away to the edge of the page is wonderful..how magical the simple things in life can be
ReplyDeletePeonies are stunning.. but not more than this poem :D
ReplyDeleteBeautifully executed!
Lots of love
Sanaa
Oh I love how you wrote this. Next year I must plant some peonies.
ReplyDeleteWonderful whiffs can be a truly nice distraction.
ReplyDelete