by Celia Warren
You probably know that a collection of poems by lots of different poets is called an anthology. But did you know that the root meaning of the word 'anthology' is 'a collection of flowers'? Poets use it metaphorically, but you could try collecting – or writing – your own anthology, or collection of flower poems? Now is a perfect time to start, when more flowers are coming into bloom daily, in the burgeoning spring.
Go and observe a flower closely and write down any thoughts, feelings, moods or words that come into your head inspired by the flower. Does it open and close at dawn and dusk, like the daisy (day's eye)? Can you blow its seeds to tell the time, as you can the dandelion? If you don't know the flower's name, look it up, or ask a knowledgeable grown-up. Here's one that I wrote, inspired by some kingcups growing in my mother's pond.
If you don't have any flowers nearby to inspire you, try and write your own poem about these. They are also called Marsh Margiolds – a nice alliterative name that you could use as your title.
Kingcups
Kingcups, kingcups:
Pond in the springcups
Make me want to singcups
Gold and silver ringcups
Kingcups, kingcups,
Brothers of the buttercups
Clear the winter cluttercups
In the dusk: shuttercups
Kingcups, kingcups
Nature's lovely blingcups
Lots of lovely kingcups …
But no queensaucers.
You probably know that a collection of poems by lots of different poets is called an anthology. But did you know that the root meaning of the word 'anthology' is 'a collection of flowers'? Poets use it metaphorically, but you could try collecting – or writing – your own anthology, or collection of flower poems? Now is a perfect time to start, when more flowers are coming into bloom daily, in the burgeoning spring.
Go and observe a flower closely and write down any thoughts, feelings, moods or words that come into your head inspired by the flower. Does it open and close at dawn and dusk, like the daisy (day's eye)? Can you blow its seeds to tell the time, as you can the dandelion? If you don't know the flower's name, look it up, or ask a knowledgeable grown-up. Here's one that I wrote, inspired by some kingcups growing in my mother's pond.
If you don't have any flowers nearby to inspire you, try and write your own poem about these. They are also called Marsh Margiolds – a nice alliterative name that you could use as your title.
KingcupsKingcups, kingcups:
Pond in the springcups
Make me want to singcups
Gold and silver ringcups
Kingcups, kingcups,
Brothers of the buttercups
Clear the winter cluttercups
In the dusk: shuttercups
Kingcups, kingcups
Nature's lovely blingcups
Lots of lovely kingcups …
But no queensaucers.
© Celia Warren 2011
Oh what a lovely daffodil
ReplyDeleteI sniffed it up my nose
It shot up my big nostril
And it popped out of toes
What a lovely and sensitive poem, Michael.
ReplyDeleteI knew you'd like it. It's one of my better ones!
ReplyDeleteBluebell, true bell
ReplyDeletePurple-blue of hue
I adore your hanging form
Tightly pinched at dusk and dawn
Fragrant bell of Spring
Never to ring-a-ding!
Queensaucers LOL, Celia.
ReplyDeleteObserve a flower closely, now that gives me an idea
Flower pollen makes me sneeze
are there bees with allergies?
Must go and write the rest of the poem (maybe it'll turn into a rhyming story about Sneezy Bee)
Our garden is struggling with flowers this year as our puppy likes eating them. Perhaps he's missed a daisy I'll go look...
ReplyDeleteOh what a pair of tulips
ReplyDeleteI licked one with my tongue
I ate one with my two lips
And now there's only one!
He he he. Glad you're having fun with flowers. If you can't decide which flower to write about, you could use my dip. (No, not the sort you stick carrots in; a playground dip!)
ReplyDeleteDip, dip, daffodil,
Trumpet shout.
Dip, dip, daffodil,
You are OUT!
Sue, it helps if you give your puppy DOG FOOD.
ReplyDeleteJust been in the garden.
Primroses
on fragile stems,
so delicate
a yellow,
so frail,
those five
open petal hearts
lift mine.
No-one's gladdies
ReplyDeleteWere better than my Daddy's.
Our spuds were duds.
ReplyDeleteYou mean you have to feed them, that explains a lot!
ReplyDelete