This past winter in Central Oregon was longer, grayer and wetter than it has been in many years. Thankfully, patience was rewarded when spring delivered a fairyland of flowers. My lilac bush has never worn a dress so lush and fragrant. For miles in every direction, lawns that had been brown due to a long stretch of drought looked as if elves had painted them neon green. In no time, however, the glorious green lawns were polka dotted with gold when those pesky dandelions, snakes in the grass, even  during years of drought, enjoyed a field day. 

Today I am sharing two poems I wrote about these indominable plants--a pantoum that romanticizes them and a limerick that displays my true feelings. 

Wild Gold

She lives but for anhour

a lioness resolute—

this gold that is aweed that is a flower                                        

with healing in herroots.

 

A lioness resolute,

she grows inimpossible places;

with healing in her roots,

produces hardy goldenfaces.

 

She grows inimpossible places.

Her wind-borne manetakes hold,

produces hardy goldenfaces

that turn white whenthey grow old.

 

Her wind-borne manetakes hold,

making summer rifewith riches

that turn white whenthey grow old,

then soar onchildren’s wishes.

 

Making summer rifewith riches,

she lives but for anhour,

then soars onchildren’s wishes—

this gold that is aweed that is a flower.
                                       GingerDehlinger

The Invasion

They pounce on my lawn with a roar,

survive curses, spade and lawn mower.

In spite of the spraying,

they seem to be staying.

It’s time to declare all-out war.
                                      Ginger Dehlinger