Poetry Forms - the Letter B, part 3

[written_leaves]

And one more dose to finish off this letter, gardening themed.

Bref Double: Shrublets

The planting of bushes
Shrubs or trees, mere saplings
(ah, there's the rub), a breeze?
Whomever says so lies.

So innocent at start,
Bursting with leaves and blooms,
Garden-shop hearts flutter,
Lifting, digging to try.

Neverending holes dug,
Heavy clap plugs and clods,
Rootbound, reluctant pots
So hard, pray they don't die!

So small in a big yard,
Dig all, then watch for years.

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Bucolic: Country Flowers

I've seen the city's flower man,
With his buckets of roses that have
No scent. Bundles of exotic blooms,
All smelling of some greenhouse,
Plastic, glass and refrigerators.
I'd trade them all, I tell you,
I'd trade them all for
One bunch of daffodils or violets,
Picked wild at whim
On a windy, clear day's walk.
Sweet as old Arcadia!
Even the meanest pathway blooms
Sweeter and finer than
All the city's flower-men
Together.

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Burns Stanza: Glass

Quick robin with the orange breast,
So bright your eye and brown your crest,
Late winter, early springtime's guest.
Watched from the glass,
A sudden startle from your rest,
A fateful pass!

The glass reflected bluest sky,
Safely above your wings to try -
Cold hardened window, startled cry,
A thump and crash;
Small feathers wisp, below you lie
Upon the grass.

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Byr a Thoddaid: Trimming Grapes

In February barren grapes,
Across their shriveled remnants drape
The stiffened, darkened, juiceless vines twining
Old ringlets, brittle, fine.

Bright pruning knife, merciless, trims deeply,
Freeing heartwood, sap brims;
When seasons change what once was dear
Must fall away for the new year.

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