The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #258
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
first, call, smell, look, tide, dissolve,
branch, spin, trip, vote, give, spell
Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #69
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/
garden, hummingbird, hover, weeds, burdock, peony,
patterns, softening, stem, dwindle, loss, whirring
Poets United: Poetry Pantry #312
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/
Yet, Another “Yes” Vote
That first call came so long ago,
am amazed it hasn’t dissolved
in whirring patterns of seasonal tides
inside hummingbird memory.
Hovers there, amidst tall weeds,
burdock of loss, never softens, or dwindles.
Still spinning its spell, enticing smell,
and look of trip worth taking.
Sturdy stem, as thick as tree branch,
constantly gives support, as I once
again, lift myself toward imaginary
garden and these peonies of poetry.
Elizabeth Crawford 7/24/16
notes: When I stop and think of the fact that I have been writing for almost forty years, I sometimes feel tired. Like last week, and when I’m tired, I get ornery and rebellious, and turn away. This week, after collecting both word lists, my eyes fell on those two first words, first, and call, and the first line was dancing through my head, immediately followed by most of the rest of them. Have to admit that the call to poetry is the strongest one I own, and am not sure that is always a good thing. Yet, it also carries one of the greatest bits of satisfaction when completed. I did use all of the words. Image is from the internet.
Soul's Music 
The burdock of loss? I would have never imagined such a thing. Thank you.
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‘I once again, lift myself toward imaginary garden and these peonies of poetry.’
Sigh… such a beautiful calling towards destiny ❤
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gorgeous, specially the last three lines…
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Had to look up burdock! 40 years of writing is amazing.. and yet the call remains so strong! Wonderful.
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The call to poetry can be most annoying as everything else is put aside! My call came much later and has got me firmly in its grip!
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I can feel a passion for poetry through out your piece here.
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I admire what you do with these word lists.
My call to poetry has been strong for nearly 70 years – and rather than tiring, it energises me. A good or bad thing? I don’t know; it just is. And therefore I might as well enjoy – as I do. Surely it must bring you joy too, to write your beautiful verses!
For the most part, it does bring me joy, Rosemary. But, unlike you, I came to it late and learned rebellion and resistance along the way. On rare occasions, those things step forward and simply say, “Nope, not today.” And when that happens, I’d like to blame the words, but know deep down it’s something in me. Something that fights being trapped or led unthinkingly, so I kick up my heels and buck away from it. That rebellion and resistance are major reasons for my continued survival, and I must honor them as well. After all, they were particularly helpful in my ever picking up a pen in the first place. North Wisconsin hillbillies are a proud lot, and relish their continued individuality, but they don’t often love to write poetry, lol. Heaven forbid! Which only means I’m a walking dichotomy, having also learned to love all the different parts of me. Thank you so much for letting me get that out and clear,
Elizabeth
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YES! What a wonderful write!
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“burdock of loss”
“peonies of poetry”
What a wonder-filled world you have created for us!
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I especially love the hummingbird memory and the peonies of poetry. Delightful to read, my friend. That call is strong and we are so lucky we get to read your response to it.
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What a beautiful blossom of peony petals and words
Happy Sunday Elizabeth
Much love…
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The poem itself carries some wonderful thoughts, as does your note. I love that idea that we are almost a victim of poetry, a servant to it. And it both rewards and cripples us somehow. Wonderful sentiments and thoughts!
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Yes! well captured. ❤
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Love the call to poetry and the images you conjured of the garden….my home and sanctuary!
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Talk about amazed – I always am at the way you take so many words to weave so effortlessly into your image-filled poetry.
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I love the “hummingbird memory”—such a unique way to phrase things. I am so glad you answer the ‘call’ every week and incorporate these word lists into your posts. It is a pleasure to read them 🙂
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even the imaginary garden has its season’s Elizabeth and some days it can look quite dull…glad you turned again and saw the peonies
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lovely thoughts.
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