Playing in the Garden

I am behind in the garden... trying to play catch up!  I have had it with summer, it feels like a damp blanket left out at night, mildew has set in.  I can't wait for autumn to arrive. Down here in the south, I call autumn, New England summer. ;D


The Sunday Challenge introduces us to poet and photographer, Teresa! She is very talented...I chose this photo to also go along with Marian's music prompt, Sinead O' Connor. 
The song featured was The Wolf Is Getting Married~

                                                                    Sunset

                                                           © Teresa ~ Razzamadazzle  

I am combining Teresa's photo with Marian's prompt:

Waiting and watching

I lick my wounds of distrust

Today the heat plays with my

half transformed thoughts

Talisman of memories arrive

the black n' white view 

now blurred into years

It took time to mix the paint to gray and 

find touches of sepia

I'm now split by the wonder of  my faded landscape

the Harvest moon dances with

 the horizon's black inked canvas

the silhouettes of youth remain

embers glow bright as the cabinet of wonders

allow me to hunt my path

the one I first encountered

I was mislead by a down wind

I waited on my haunches for others

to see their destined star

now I can follow mine~

Hannah challenged us to write a poem embracing snow and ice !  Great idea :D

Kerry inspired us to try a form of writing called  Zuihitsu (随筆)it  is a genre of Japanese literature consisting of loosely connected personal essays and fragmented ideas that typically respond to the author's surroundings. The name is derived from two Kanji meaning "to follow" and "brush", and thus works of the genre should be considered not as traditionally planned literary pieces but rather as casual or randomly recorded thoughts by the authors.


I combined the two and came up with this.   I use to live in Alaska, when you drove to the mini mart this was my view. It is a mountain range that looks like (a)The Sleeping Lady.   There is a legend about her, you can read it here.   The short version is about a young woman named Susitna. Her soon to be husband, Nekatla went off to convince invaders not to disturb their peaceful land. He never returned. She fell asleep while waiting. Her people didn't want to wake her, when they discovered he and all the others had died trying to keep peace.  They sewed a blanket of flowers, to cover her. She still remains a sleep waiting for her love to return to her.

Sleeping Lady by wrangell

( I wanted a  white, gray, blue photo...I have one somewhere. I couldn't find it...so here is a glorious view).  My poem reflects more of a somber one~

Sleeping lady lies dormant waiting for wispy clouds to gather, while you remain sleeping.

A few stars wink in her bruised horizon. The purply black blanket starts to spread and reveal

the midnight sun’s embrace. Her silhouette outlines the silence, a distant bell clangs like an echo in the fog.  Her face is lifted toward the sky, her eyes wide awake. She waits and watches for her love Nekatla to return, but her heart knows the truth.  Her hair now a gray robe tangled with termination dust. The edges of her Aquamarine gown have faded. Her flowers have wilted and hang their droopy heads, bowed in silence.   Soon she will wear a sheer permafrost gown. She hears the eagles, hawks and a green heron wail. She moans with them.  Her breath is becoming more crystalline as the Harvest moon will make its appearance tonight.  Her brain a bit damaged from  a lightening strike. She now hears the land's constant hum. She misses her love, but she must now protect the land. She worries about her cousins and what happened during the Portage Quake. They now stand like gray ghosts. Her hands remain in prayer position hoping this will not happen again...