By Phyllis Peacock and Nevada Poetry Society
Beside a rusting barbed-wire fence,
its sun-bleached wooden posts awry,
a field of purple thistles thrusts
its spiky blossoms toward the sky.
Small yellow birds that forage there,
seem bits of ribbon in the wind;
perched lightly on a slender stem,
in tune with nature’s sway and bend.
my floral triumph of the year:
eleven sunflower plants,
almost regal, as tall as
I (and more), inviting
hosts of honeybees.
at the bumptious majesty
of huge, coarse blooms …
I marvel at the poufs of roses,
accents of dahlias,
carpets of lantana.
All … a transcendental treat!
Under opulent heavy boughs
Merciful shade from that
Monstrous fireball −