Gardening

Gardening is a way of scratching through,
Hard surfaces, the crust of present time,
Where curly leaf-sprigs spring and spice drifts through  
Blue blossoms as they bloom in even rhyme
And fruited phrases hang upon the air.
Perfumed by clouds of pollen in each row
A gust will blow and punctuate with care
The rounded phrases as they ripen, slow.
 
Once we have pierced that rhythmic underworld
Persephone presents for our employ,
A bunch of tightly winding tendrils, swirled,
That rise in strict procession, structured joy,
 
Then dry to brittle, bleached out stalks that sway
Once Ceres comes and blasts it all away.





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Sally Cook is both painter and poet. Whether writ­ing or paint­ing, she keeps a sharp eye out for the psy­cho­log­i­cal por­trait. Her essays and poetry have been pub­lished in jour­nals such as The Chimera, Chron­i­cles, Con­tem­po­rary Son­net, Iambs & Trochees, Pivot, and The For­mal­ist Por­tal. Look for her in the next issue of Light Quar­terly. Cook’s review “Rhyming The Right”, of William Baer’s anthol­ogy “The Con­ser­v­a­tive Poets”, may be seen both in the cur­rent issue of The Uni­ver­sity Book­man and on its website.