To Zephyrus
In a field of barley, I see you,
most temperate of winds,
bringer of summer and all of its rain,
combing the fine and fluent hair,
into surging waves of shimmering silk,
ebbing and flowing, ...
ebbing and flowing.
With your venerated breath,
the birds' tiding songs sung are spread,
from bark walls through foliage verdure,
softly eddying on a ledge,
until broken by a hedge,
where vine looking leaves,
have been nibbled to lace.
Lone poppies, blood orange like fire rose,
know each other's embrace,
only by the delicate touch
of dainty pollen-coated butterfly legs,
and then they fade, each
petal, into a pale shade of peach.
Whereas barley stands side by side,
rubbing shoulders,
only bearing ears,
when whispers ...
are exchanged by a wind,
wafting the sweet balm smell of chamomile,
only as gentle as you,
my sapphire rose,
my belovèd
Zeph-y-rus.
Copyright © Quirina Roode-Gutzmer 2012.
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Author's Note
This poem, inspired by the walks I have recently enjoyed through barley fields near my house, is an ode to the Greek God of the west wind ... a soft caressing kind of wind.
Other stories by Quirina Roode-Gutzmer
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Love this poem!
"vine looking leaves,
have been nibbled to lace"
I feel the wind, can see it blowing the poppies and the barley. Such strong images.
You wrote this so well, I love the feelings that it imparts, the way it takes me away and places me in the field. Very nice. *
The images and the musical sounds of the language are beautiful. I hope you enjoy my own latest work.
Yes, strong images, colors, rhythm and flow, whispering wind, 'sweet balm smell of chamomile.' *
Very visual and tangible. I'm glad to have been introduced to your work. I like how the point of focus fades into the setting.
I really like the images and rhythms of this. Makes me feel like I'm right in the poem. Glad to discover this today!