Yes, yes, there it is standing alone /stately red poppy/ in a field of white or undeveloped flowers, so conspicuous, the rugged individual, the pariah/singularly dejected/–yet entirely able to persevere, to promulgate its message, to be proud of its individuality, its uniqueness, as it /discovers new bud!/. Yes, as one of your commentors mentioned, sometimes we all have felt this way, the black sheep in the herd of white, the white tiger in a sea of orange stripes, the Scottish Highlander, hairy and long-horned billeted in a herd of Herefords. So, you the poetess, the poet, the woman, the person, has had this moment of introspection leading to a smile, an epithany, a realization that your very redness is God’s gift. So go forth, kiss the bees and birds, and spread your seed, smear the fields with your vermilion vigor.
The words suggest a dejection. The picture, to me, was resplendent with joy. I loved the dichotomy. Maybe it was a reflection of what I am feeling lately — a mixture of pleasure (good riddance to a job that caused me endless grief) and trepedition (being “unemployed” can be a scary place to be). Little wonder then that I feel like that flower – dejected and yet eagerly looking for new buds, new opportunities, new ways of enjoying life.
Thanks a ton for this vignette, Janet. (Also thanks for your posts at my blog. My blogging has become very irregular lately… might as well not do it than do it irregularly, I feel sometimes. And yet — why restrict myself by these self-made rules. I’ll blog when I feel like. :))
For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)
My soul laid bare ..tread lightly, please ;>
This is where I plan to bare my soul for all the world to see - warts and all. I plan on letting it all hang out here, so to speak, not knowing exactly what direction it may take, but I hope you're along for the ride. If you are, you'll be respected and valued here for your poetic sensibilities. We can explore the content of our hearts and intricate workings of our minds, together. But above all else, I declare this place a safe haven from the slings and arrows of life that may be bent on foisting themselves in our general direction, seeking to strip all heart-felt and pithy profundities from our poetic souls. Mercy! Do I hear an Amen?! :>
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It should be understood without stating that poetry written on Poetmeister is copyright material of Janet Leigh, unless otherwise stated, and all rights are reserved. Please respect my rights or I will visit you in your worst nightmare. Thank you. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
UPDATE 2 My Gentle Readers:
Please take note that my responses to your comments may be embedded along with your comments, or may stand alone as a separate comment. I'm in the process of catching up with my blog which is behaving like a whiplash smile. heh heh..
Emily Dickinson Do you have a 19th century sensibility? Or are you an intellectual? Do you write a lot? Because it seems like you have a lot in common with classic American poet, Emily Dickinson. Read more...